Rough Drafts [bxb]

|5|

                                   "Humans must all learn to make sacrifices."

                                                              - Ulrich Feist, Beacons, 2014.

"Bear, you're being a baby." Doris's faint voice sounded from outside my room.

"Am not." I retorted before dragging my blanket over my head again. This was a terrible idea. No, a horrible one. How on earth did I ever get convinced this was a good idea? Money is definitely the root of all trouble. It had landed me a housemate who I would not be able to look at ever again.

She sighed "I think Ulrich understands now that you weren't trying to get with him."

"Doesn't matter. You tricked me into this mess and now I'm confined in here for the rest of this summer. Not going to come out until he leaves." I shouted from underneath the blanket.

There was a groan.

"You'll starve."

"I have a whole stash of cookies and Skittles in my closet so suck it." I replied snarkily.

Doris sighed "I don't know why you're acting this way. It was an accident. Ulrich understands."

"I don't care. This is your entire fault for bringing him here. My life contained the perfect amount of complications I could manage until you decided to help me add another. I can't even enjoy my freaking summer in peace now." I said. Yes the whole thing was an accident, but in three tries I had singlehandedly convinced our third wheeling guest that I was a clumsy weirdo. Normally people's opinions of me didn't count but not when he was literally across the hall from me and we were under the same roof.

I had to face the man every single day for two months.

After the incident Zen called Doris explaining everything to her which promptly caused her to drive all the way down here to convince Ulrich that no, her little brother was not a somnophilic sex offender. It took about thirty minutes for her to calm him down with the conviction that he was safe.

His judgmental eyebrows twitched around watching my every move and critizing me. I may have been a pathetically divorced twenty six year old with no further career prospects other than designing labels for like Cheezy Itz (weird name for a box of mac and cheese I know), but I was a man who still had his pride. My pride prompted me not to leave my bedroom again.

At least not until everyone was asleep so that I could sneak peach yogurt and lasagna from the fridge.

"Will you consider coming out if Ulrich comes himself to say that he's over it?"

I threw the covers off completely "No! That's even worse!"

"Do explain." My sister was obviously frustrated.

"If he comes it'll only be because you forced him to. Anyone forced to do anything gets grumpy and since he's already grumpy at me, it'll only be a matter of time before he's driven to tie me to the bed and break my legs with a hammer."

There was silence.

"Ridge have you been watching Stephen King movies again?" Why does everyone attribute my behavior to Stephen King?

"The man is pure genius!" I defended.

"Just need to know if I have to talk to Mom and Dad about your nightmares again." That witch. Get spooked out a few times because you watched some Stephen King movies at 17 and no one ever lets you forget it. Not that it was even my fault. Misery was one hell of a creepy ass movie.