Heat Wave

Chapter 1: The Signs

The end doesn't just happen. It sneaks up on you, slowly, intimately, while your back is turned. You may see some of its signs out of the corner of your eyes, but when you swirl around, determined to catch whatever is hiding behind you, you get a big, fat nothing. It makes you crazy, desperate to see the dots, and when you do, you quickly close your eyes again wishing you hadn't seen anything. Denial is the most prominent of human flaws.

So when you see the dry grass in front of the library you shrug and sit down beneath the canopy of leaves, basking in the shade. After all, it was just a particularly dry summer.

+++

Tuesday, July 6th

"Hey, it's me. I'm just about to leave and, well, wanted to know how you guys' day was. If now's not a good time- I mean, obviously it's not, I'm talking to the voicemail- I'll just call back later. So yeah. Just wanted you to know I'm still alive and stuff. Okay, bye!"

I pressed the end-call button and hefted my book bag over my shoulder. It was unbelievably heavy. I'd need to return a couple of books soon, or maybe get an extension. Maybe tomorrow. Yeah, I should do it tomorrow, lest I forgot it again and had to pay another fifty bucks.

The keys were sticky in my sweaty palms, really uncomfortable to hold on to. It shouldn't surprise me that they slipped out of my fingers before I could properly lock the door. It didn't stop me from swearing, though.

"God dammit!"

"Watch your mouth, young lady!" came from the window above me. A wrinkly, grey-covered head poked its nose outside, mouth curled into an unpleasant smile.

"Sorry, Mrs. Green!" I quickly gathered my things, locked the door and disappeared down the garden path. Out of view (and out of hearing) I stopped and plopped my earbuds in. In the summertime- Good old 70's music.

+++

"- This is the kitchen, pretty new as you can see and we have an extra fridge in the common room. Do you cook?"

"Not really", I admitted with a half-smile. "Mostly I just warm stuff up. Pasta's as far as I can manage. I'm pretty good at baking, though."

The guy laughed. "Then you'll fit right in with this guy." He motioned over to where the other guy was slurping instant ramen at the counter. He gave a lazy wave before turning back to his phone. I nodded back. This wasn't so bad. I could do this.

The first guy (I forgot his name, dammit, look for clues, look for clues, he was wearing a Game of Thrones t-shirt-) led me back through the hallway to a big, completely empty room, saying "This would be yours. There is furniture stored in the basement, but if you prefer to take your own furniture with you, that can just stay down there. There's a small balcony right over there- yeah, just yank the door, it's a bit rusty- the sun doesn't shine directly on it, at least not in the afternoon."

"That's nice", I said, only quickly sticking my head outside to take a look, because- ugh, hot. The balcony was small, sweet, a tiny table and two wooden chairs, all in the shade of a big ass tree right in front of the house. I closed the door before too much of the too warm air could come inside. Even this short exposure threatened to bring sweat to my forehead. The guy (Game of Thrones, I really needed to find out his name) caught my expression of distaste and nodded sympathetically. "It's really been hot these last couple of weeks. I wouldn't mind some rain by now."

"It's great for swimming, though. Pool time", I answered.

"Do you have one?" Game of Thrones asked, an eyebrow raised in doubt.

I snorted. "Would I look for a new place if I did?"

"Good point."

We both fell into silence, staring at nothing and standing awkwardly around in an empty room, before Game of Thrones clapped his hands and moved us into the common room for a possible future roommate interview. Turns out Game of Thrones was actually called Augustus Constantin and long haired, Instant Ramen from before was aptly named Ephraim.