Ficorpio
Chapter 1
Right after graduation, I was broke, so sharing an apartment was my only option.
Then I found out all seven of my roommates were women.
To say I was nervous would be an understatement. I hesitated for days, but in the end, the dirt-cheap rent proved impossible to resist.
After moving in, I was treated to a nightly soundtrack of different men and women enjoying themselves through paper-thin walls. I became convinced I must have committed some terrible crime in a past life.
The problem with having a bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering was that if you didn’t want to work in a factory, your diploma was about as useful as a panhandler’s cup.
At the career fair, I read one factory’s offer and felt a storm of emotions rise inside me.
Base pay: $450 a month. Performance bonuses. Housing included, meals not included. Potential take-home pay of over $1,500.
What exactly did their performance review involve? Storming a war zone to rescue hostages?
Even overseas scam rings wouldn’t lie that shamelessly.
Another factory offered $375 a month, with room and board included, plus “ample opportunities for growth.”
The entire factory barely had room to expand. Where was all this supposed career growth going to happen?
Every college graduate faced the same impossible question: take the civil-service exams or apply to graduate school?
For mechanical engineering majors, it wasn’t much of a choice.
There were practically no civil-service positions open to us, which left graduate school as the only realistic option.
And just like that, I quietly joined the army of students preparing for the graduate-school entrance exams.
My family had never had much money. Mom and Dad had pinched every penny to put me through four years of college. Now that I had finally graduated, I couldn’t bring myself to ask them for more when I should have been helping ease their burden.
So I scraped by on whatever odd jobs I could find, earning just enough to keep myself fed while getting a difficult firsthand education in both the bright and ugly sides of the adult world.
“Evan, if things don’t work out, you can always come home.”
I pinned the phone between my ear and shoulder and shifted my luggage from one hand to the other, trying to ease the burning ache in my arms.
“I’m fine, Mom. I found a place. It’s huge.”
“Being out there on your own isn’t easy.”
“I still can’t come home. If the neighbors find out I graduated without getting a job and moved back in to live off you and Dad, God knows what they’ll say behind our backs.”
“Let them talk.”
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be fine. I have to go.”
I hung up. The young rental agent beside me gave me a look of understanding.
“Fresh out of college, huh? It’s hard for everyone at first. Things will get better. You know, when I first graduated—”
I waved him off before he could launch into a full motivational speech.
“How many more damn flights are there?”
Chapter 2
“The apartment’s on the seventh floor. Just two more.”
“Fine.”
An old building. A seventh-floor walk-up. No elevator. Shared apartment living.
Stack enough disadvantages together, and apparently you could achieve the miracle of rent at just $280 a month.
By the time we finally reached the top floor, I was drenched in sweat. Ryan Cole, the rental agent, politely knocked on the door.
A moment later, a pretty, quiet-looking young woman opened it a crack.
“Who is it?”
“Oh, hey, Tessa. Don’t you remember me? I’m the rental agent. I’ve brought someone else to look at the apartment.”
The woman named Tessa Reed pulled the door all the way open, then hurried back inside.
“Is it okay if we come in?” Ryan asked.
“Sure.”
I wiped the sweat from my forehead and looked around. The place was actually pretty big.
Three bedrooms, one living room, and one bathroom, with more than seventeen hundred square feet altogether.
“Evan, let me introduce you to everyone.”
My gaze followed the sweep of Ryan’s finger across the apartment as if I were watching a general survey the territory under his command.
“That room is the master bedroom. One girl lives there by herself. She’s a really sweet kid.”
I nodded.
“The room next to it is the second bedroom. Two girls share it—they’re best friends.”
I nodded again.
“Across from that room is another bedroom. One girl lives there alone too. She’s about your age, fresh out of college.”
I nodded.
“The living room’s been divided into three separate spaces by the landlord. The one closest to the door belongs to an older sister who’s pretty busy with work.”
I nodded.
“The middle one belongs to another young woman. She’s a nice person.”
I nodded.
“And the space farthest inside belongs to the girl who opened the door earlier. Her name’s Tessa. She’s a little shy and doesn’t talk much.”
My head was starting to swim. I didn’t feel like nodding anymore.
“Man, I’m not here to find a date. Just tell me where I’m staying.”
“There.”
I followed the direction of his finger and frowned.
“Isn’t that the bathroom?”
“Yep.”
“So I’m sleeping in the bathroom?”
“No, no. I’m just explaining the layout.”
“Man, I can figure out the layout myself. Just tell me where I’m sleeping.”
Ryan didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in until his breath, thick with the smell of chewing tobacco, brushed my ear.
“Buddy, have you noticed something?”
“What the hell am I supposed to have noticed? A sniper scope? A level-three backpack?”
“Your roommates are all women. And they’re all pretty.”
“So?”
“Do you realize what kind of perk that is?”
Chapter 3
At first, I had no idea why Ryan was dragging the conversation out. Then I saw my bed and finally understood what all his whispering had been leading up to.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m sleeping here?”
My new “room” was a neat little rectangle, barely five feet wide and six feet long.
If I actually slept there, the first thing I’d see every morning would be the range hood grinning down at me with grease dripping from its nose. Pots, pans, plates, and bowls surrounded the bed on every side, ready to perform a merry little dance. Every now and then, one would probably hurl itself to the floor and die with dignity.
“This is a kitchen.”
“Well, technically, yes,” Ryan admitted. “But the women here almost never cook, so using it as a bedroom shouldn’t be a problem.”
“And this bed is just a plank propped up on beer crates, right?”
“Of course not. Those are bricks.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
I turned to leave, but Ryan hurried after me.
“Come on, man. Think about it. An apartment full of gorgeous women.”
“Not interested.”
“I’ll knock thirty bucks off the monthly rent.”
I hated to admit it, but that got my attention.
“Two hundred and fifty a month? That number sounds unlucky.”
“Then two-sixty.”
“Get lost.”
“Wait, wait. Two forty-five. How about that? Ask around anywhere in the city. You won’t find another place for two hundred and forty-five a month with running water, electricity, and an actual bathroom. It doesn’t exist.”
So I carried my luggage into the cramped little space.
I pulled a sheet from my bag, shook it out, and hung it over the transparent glass door as a curtain.
For a moment, I stood there with a strange heaviness in my chest, unable to put a name to what I was feeling.
I took out a cigarette and lit it.
Thin ribbons of smoke curled toward the ceiling and vanished. Suddenly, I missed home.
Knock, knock.
Someone was tapping on the glass.
I pulled back the sheet and found Tessa standing outside. The instant our eyes met, her cheeks flushed.
“Smoking… in here…”
“Oh, I’m not allowed to smoke inside? Sorry. I’m really sorry.”
I was about to stub out the cigarette, but she stopped me and pointed toward the range hood.
I understood immediately and switched it on.
Wisps of smoke drifted into the vent as the motor began to rumble. The ancient thing sounded like an old man I’d nearly choked to death with a single drag.
Once I finished the cigarette, I unpacked the rest of my things. Then I took a quick look around the living room and checked out the Shared Bathroom. It was surprisingly clean.
“Um… when you smoke from now on, remember to turn the vent on,” Tessa said. “I’m allergic to cigarette smoke.”