For the Seventh Time

A Prolonged Prologue (Episode Zero)

All I ever wanted was to find the right girl.

I wanted someone to care for, someone to spend time with. I had dated around, but none of them ever stayed for more than a week... And just one week was an accomplishment. Eric was the same way. Well, in a sense. I wanted to read the Sunday Times book review section in an unfurnished apartment, lying on the hardwood floor, with my lover massaging my bare feet...

Eric wanted tacos.

I thought I had a hold on what romance meant, but now I'm not so sure. I did end up on the floor... but not quite the way I had pictured.

"Eric?" I stood outside the door of the apartment, carrying a paper bag containing groceries, half of which we probably didn't need. While we lived together, our refrigerator was usually crammed full of fast food and desserts, along with leftovers. I don't know how, but Eric always found a way to restock it, even while it was fully stocked.

"C'mon man, these are getting heavy!" I shouted, waiting for Eric to unlock the door for me. Either he wasn't home, asleep, or leaving it locked just to mess with me. All three were equally likely. Immediately I regretted forgetting to bring my set of keys. But I soon heard the words that would save me:

"Hold your horses, I'm coming."

"I'm holding my groceries..."

As I waited for my bumbling guest to let me in, my eyes traced the bronze letters nailed to the door. 3E. Two interesting, but good years spent behind that door. Well, nearly two. Eric had recently moved out while Rachel and I were dating. She was visiting with her family in Texas that week in August, so I invited Eric to take a break from sleeping in Feeny's car and come stay in the apartment with me. It felt good to have him back. My time spent in this apartment didn't seem right without him.

He opened the door, hands free, wearing those boxer shorts I had seen on him one too many days in a row. I shoved the bag into his arms, paying him back for the two minutes of waiting he put me through.

"What took you so long?" I asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, already fishing through the bag for "good" food similarly to how an animal would scavenge through a dumpster.

"What do you mean?"

"Your entry-pren-warship class ended like three hours ago," he responded, growling because the contents of the bag did not fit his trashy requirements.

"Entrepreneurship," I corrected him. I'd been taking a summer prep class. "How did you know that? You couldn't even remember when your own classes started last year." He shrugged and made his way to the counter.

"I know that because I used to wait for you to come home at the same time every day," he said, quietly. By that time, I began to wonder if Eric actually was a puppy. He dumped the bag out over the countertop, as if it would somehow make junk food appear.

"What do you do all day?"

He stopped what he was doing to give me that look of his. You know what I do all day, it implied. Eric and I knew each other so well we didn't even need words to communicate.

"Nothing, huh?" I sighed. He looked back down at the table. Apparently I had answered correctly. I felt sorta bad for the guy. Yet again, he probably enjoyed doing nothing all day. When we were freshmen, he did nothing whenever he had the chance. But at times he was bright eyed and bushy tailed... He was always dragging me into wild situations. He kept me on my toes. He still does. I'm contradicting myself again. That's what living with this guy does to ya.