The Dream Team

PART ONE:

“Well…everything’s packed up,” he says as he sticks his pale, skinny fingers into his tight jean pockets. At least I will never have to go out with a man that doesn’t know his proper jean size. I tried to stare him down one last time—trying to find more imperfections to make this breakup easier. But I couldn’t; I unfortunately was still obsessed and in love with the man that just dropped me like a bad habit after two years of being together—and only eight months of living together. He couldn’t even finish out the lease and give me time to find a roommate. In my opinion—he at least owed me that.

“One more swoop? Just to make sure,” I desperately stared into his eyes, trying to signal one spark of love to make him realize falling out of love doesn’t exist… and he is just being silly. But no—that’s just being dumb, not hopelessly in love—he was through. Regardless if I was ready or not.

“I think it’s best if I just go… it’s already hard, Maria.” I wanted to question him. To be honest—this move-out process has been nothing but a breeze for him. As soon as he broke the news of “no longer being in love” he packed a duffel bag that was collecting dust in our closet and stayed with his parents. He would randomly pop in to grab items in small increments for two months. It was gut-wrenching to see him come and go—but I couldn’t stop what was already happening. I didn’t understand how a man that just said he would marry me and make me the mother of his children one day—falls out of love on a random Tuesday in March. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. He claimed the relationship became way more than he thought it would be—whatever that means. He was suffocated, stuck, and losing himself. I knew these were excuses—or maybe this really was more than he signed up for.

“Right. I don’t even know why I bothered… you’ve been ready for quite some time,” I say coldly as I fold my arms.

“I still love you… Maria,” he says, not even daring to make eye contact.

“You mean loved?” I had to correct him—to remind him that all this was happening, because he “fell out of love.”

I couldn’t help but turn away. I let him roll his last suitcase out the door and the door slammed to follow. I let out a forced breath between my lips and sunk into the couch.

We were officially released from each other—and it felt awful.

Memories of us circulated through my brain, all I wanted to do was go through this breakup properly. Ice cream, alcohol, and a stupid one-night stand—then I can really heal. But, honestly? I was never really a one-night stand girl, so ice cream, booze, and a hangover will do. But all that had to wait… my no-good cowardly ex-boyfriend left me in the middle of a lease. So in other words, if I didn’t get a roommate not only would I be heartbroken—I would be homeless.

I was supposed to set up my ad on Craigslist… a month ago. Honestly… spare me. I thought I would be with this man forever, I needed time to process. I still need time to be honest… but I needed to keep my downtown Seattle apartment more. I knew my little barista salary would not cut it. Ian, my boyfriend—ex, I mean, had a job in tech. So in other words his half was a lot bigger than mine.

That brings us to reason number two. Besides no longer loving me, my finances and long-term goals did not match his. He was a tall, skinny white boy with a trust fund from California. He had a full ride to UCLA and had a job in his dad’s tech company at the Seattle office right out of graduation. Me on the other hand… I went to a small community college in a tiny town that was three hours away from Seattle. Just me and my mom busting our ass. I should have known our lives were too far apart—but I didn’t care. He was this sweet ginger I met at a bar in Seattle that opened up my world. Took me on romantic dates, boat rides, trips across country, and even widened my book selection. He was the man I always saw in the movies, and I had him—until he stopped seeing a future in me.

I reluctantly opened up my laptop to return to my reality, which was; broke twenty-four-year-old that needs a roommate—like now.

After I sacrificed my only hour of free time to creating THE roommate ad for Craigslist, I rushed over to the job that pays the bills. I burst through the doors and got consumed by the smell of espresso, hot milk, and overpriced pastries. It was a small but chic coffee shop downtown Seattle, where a small will cost you nine dollars, I’m just glad I get it free.

“You are so late.” I turn around as my apron is slanted and see my manager and best friend—Izzy. I throw myself towards her breast and look up at her with innocent eyes.

“Oh no! Please don’t fire me… I’ll make it up to you,” I sarcastically say as I bat my eyelashes.

“Oh please… you couldn’t handle all this even if I let you,” she says, winking. We laugh at our usual playful routine and she assists me with my apron.

“So… what’s the excuse?” she asks, pointing to the clock. Lateness was a part of my charm… but also got me fired from many jobs up until this one, of course. I bite my lip and turn around to face her. Her eyes of disapproval looked me up and down.

“Well… Ian officially moved out and it finally set in that I can’t afford rent without him,” I say, smiling so hard my face hurts. I figure if you smile—it doesn’t hurt as bad.

“Oh Maria—I completely forgot that it was today. Oh fuck, you still haven’t set up your ad?”

“I did today! It looks so cute and artsy! I hope I get someone fun and not like a murderer…”

“Hey, as long as they get rent on time,” Izzy jokes.

“Amen to that, sister.” We high-five at our insanity and prepare to feed the sleep-deprived animals we call customers.

About two hours after the morning rush—I was fully engulfed in my ex’s Instagram. It was a daily thing to stalk his socials through my burner account. I just needed to see if he was as publicly sad as I was—he was not. I was posting sky pics with fucking Adele lyrics as he was posting after-work cocktails. It was as if I never existed or—he was finally released back into the wild. Which obviously made me look like the loser or the delusional ex. So every day I continued my humiliation ritual hoping that at some point—he would miss me too.

“That better be Craigslist… and not Ian’s Instagram,” Izzy says behind me as she snatches my phone.

“Stopppp! I can’t help it… I’m still sore,” I say, giving her puppy eyes.

“Yeah, and you can’t heal by shoving the pain in your face.”

“It’s like exposure therapy!”

“No, Maria… you’re a sadist,” she says, pushing my phone into my chest. I put my hands up in defense. She was right though—I always drag myself through emotional hell. I’d rather push myself through all the grief now—instead of it hitting me all at once six months later.

“Out of sight, out of mind,” Izzy says, poking my forehead.

“Maybe that’s not healthy at all! Maybe that’s our way of avoiding… and not healing,” I say, poking my temple.

“No, you’re just not over him and this is unhealthy.” I shake my head and pull a ticket from the register.

“Whatever, I have four triple macchiatos to do so… bye,” I say, smiling.

“Now that is avoidance,” she says, pointing at me and walking away. Maybe she was right, but I couldn’t help but pine after the man that was once my world.

Eight hours of being stained by caramel and burned with black coffee had finally come to an end. I walked through my newly empty apartment and plopped my work bag at the entrance. I slipped off my beaten Converse and tried to settle into my new norm. By this time Ian would be awkwardly maneuvering through the apartment—it sucked, but I didn’t mind because awkwardness was better than him being completely gone. I held onto the time where he was still moving out because to me—there was still a chance. Maybe I am a sadist—I would rather be close to my pain than away with it… because to me there was at least an ounce of love left—now there was nothing but old memories and slight regret looming around the apartment.

I popped open some cheap white wine—breakup ritual. I poured it in my mug from college because Ian took all his fancy wine and champagne glasses with him. He took everything that made me feel like I escaped my world of living check to check and six-dollar wine. He took the fancy silverware, the cool expensive decorations, and of course—his love. The very thing that made me feel the most wanted. Someone as established as him wanted me—even through my flaws and inability to ever pay a bill on time. We came from different worlds and I thought that was okay—until it wasn’t, of course.

The minute his father promoted him prematurely he started talking about the future and I slowly realized there was no place for me. It stopped being “we” and started being “him” and him only. The plans of a simple life together changed—and we stopped seeing eye to eye. The Ian I got with wanted to go backpacking and didn’t mind getting cheap takeout and smoking weed. But after two years and eight months—things changed. It was all about keeping up with appearances and representing his family name and according to him and his relatives a Mexican girl from a small town in Washington—didn’t cut it.

I sighed as I took a gulp of wine. I never thought my background and what I could afford—would ever matter to him. But people change—even if it’s not for themselves.

PART TWO:

The next morning my alarm screamed at me through the piles of blankets and plushies. I groggily tapped snooze and kept my eyes shut. Ian used to have the blinds open to prepare for a morning run—I never joined him, I’m usually a “lay in bed for two hours” kind of girl. I slowly sat up, slightly regretting passing up those morning runs—maybe if I was the productive clean girl that fit in his world, he would still be here. Whatever—he’s there and I’m here. I rip off the covers and push my hair out of my face. I turn on the bathroom light and start to brush my teeth. In the midst of my morning routine I get a notification on my phone. I quickly grab it, hoping it would be Ian changing his mind—I’m delusional.

But it wasn’t Ian, and most likely never will be. It was a message from Craigslist, I quickly click on it and hope it wasn’t a creep. To my shock it wasn’t a creepy old guy but a girl. She was a twenty-four-year-old bass player… okay. She usually works at night. She is 4/20 friendly… okay I’m warming up. She also can pay half the rent if, interesting. Her name is Cammi or Cam for short. Her message read:

Cammi: Are you still in need of a roommate…?

“Wow… you’re early. You know your shift doesn’t start for another hour, right?” I arrived at work an hour early for every reason besides being a better employee.

“I need your office.”

“What?”

“I need to interview a potential roommate!” Izzy holds out her hand, waiting for me to show her. Nothing goes without Izzy’s approval—best friend rules. I hand her my phone and she immediately makes a face.

“Oh, come on. What now?”

“How is a bass player going to split rent? You might make way more than her.”

“Not true… unless I’m getting a raise.”

“This is the first time you have ever been on time… and it’s been two years. I’d rather give the raise to the homeless guy that keeps taking our tip jar. At least he is on time.” I slap her arm playfully, but she was right… it was a risk. But I was desperate and lonely… not only did I need to keep my apartment, I needed to be distracted from my breakup that felt like it had been dragging.

“Let me just interview her before my shift… I need this, Izzy,” I plead as my eyes get wider and wider.

“Okay… But I need to be there, the last thing I need is you ending up on some crime documentary.”

“Okay, mom.”

I gave Cammi the address of the coffee shop, and she came right away. She had on a thick leather jacket that was way too big for her; it had patches sewed in and pins all over. Her hair was light brown and cut into short layers—shaggy, but cute. Her green eyes were smudged with eyeliner, but it looked good on her. She had a few nose and ear piercings, and when she smiled her teeth were perfectly straight with a smiley piercing in between. She smiled from the glass front doors and waved with both arms. I gave her a small wave back. My cheeks grew red as she pushed through the doors. It felt like she was an angel coming down from heaven to save me from eviction; as soon as she opened the doors—Seattle’s grey skies dispersed and the sun poked through.

“Hi! I’m Cammi! So… which one of you is about to be my new roomie?”

“Uh—me—Maria Cruz.”

“Oh this is professional.” She clears her throat and straightens out her jacket and wife beater underneath,

“Its… Miss. Camilia Sanders… your future roommate.” She does a curtsey and I giggle. She seemed fun… a little odd, but I loved her energy. It was fresh. I looked over at Izzy and she had her fake half-smile plastered across her face—she didn’t like her. I could tell by her arms staying folded and her lack of movement.

“Follow us,” Izzy says, turning quickly as her ponytail slaps me in the forehead. I rolled my eyes and Cammi smirks. I whip my head towards her and see her holding in her laugh. I suck in my cheeks and shake my head. Cammi leans in to whisper to me—she smelled like mint mixed with marijuana.

“Am I being fired?” she whispers. I let out a snort as we sit in Izzy’s office.

“You have to be hired first—Cammi,” Izzy says, sliding into her office chair.

“Sorry,” Cammi says, sitting across from Izzy. I slide my chair closer to Izzy, and fold my arms—time to get serious. I open my mouth to speak.

“So all your income comes from playing bass?” Izzy questioned.

“Izzy,” I groan as I give her a side-eye.

“Oh—I meant to update that. You are talking to the new lead singer of Razzled Snakes,” Cammi says, smoothing out her jacket. Razzled Snakes was an up-and-coming band that played in all the clubs in downtown Seattle… when they played the entry fee went up times three. They were good… rumor has it, they may have a record deal soon.

“No fucking way! I love y’all at the clubs.”

“Wait—you’re a fan?”

“UM… YES. I love it, my boyfriend—I mean ex—used to get drunk and listen to you guys. Never got to see you guys though… and you all have this anonymous vibe… I LOVE IT.”

“Well screw him for dumping you… but points for listening to my band. Oh my gosh, you guys would always get free tickets… we’re roommates now and friends!” Cammi says, grabbing my hands—I felt instant warmth from her.

“Hold on—We still have questions,” Izzy says, holding up her hands.

“We do?” I ask innocently.

“Yes, dammit.”

“Oh… right. Okay, so the apartment is twenty-five hundred a month… utilities included. Your half would be 1,250. I just need a pay stub for technical reasons… and there are ground rules. Number one, let me know if you’re gonna have guests. Number two, clean-up days are Saturday and Sunday mornings, and lastly, PLEASE have the rent on time.”

“Easy enough—roomie.” Cammi grabs my hand, giving it a good shake. I smile.

“Pay stub?” Izzy questions.

“I gotchu, girl.” Cammi pulls out a crumpled pay stub and also a check for the first and second month rent.

“Here’s the key!”

“Oh Jesus Christ…” Izzy says.

“I mean—when I get off I will make a copy. You can start moving in tomorrow… just need to review the information,” I say, fixing my posture. Cammi smiles as if she knows my mind is already made up—she was my roommate and she was perfect.

After pulling a double, I rushed home to check any updates from Cammi and to my surprise she was at my stoop. I had my keys dangling from my pinky and two of my hair strands glued to my forehead. Not only was I in shock, but I was starting to regret my optimism—this girl might be a little crazy.

“Jeez… did you go to the gym?” she asks, pushing my hair off my sweaty forehead. My heart slightly skips a beat.

“I thought we said tomorrow…” I say, lightly pushing her hand.

“Oh… you were for real? I thought you were just being like that because of your nosy friend.”

“What?—No. I just thought waiting a day would be responsible.”

“Why? I gave you everything you need, babe. Trust me—you won’t regret this. I’m SUPER responsible… and I already told my friend I no longer need his couch…” I sighed and pushed past her. I held open the door and signaled her to come in. She smiled and quickly grabbed her two duffel bags.

“That’s all you have?”

“I travel light.”

“What about your music stuff?”

“Storage… duh.” She lugs her bags up my five-flight walk-up—by the time we reached the fifth floor, we could barely breathe and I was more sweaty than before.

“Okay… Welcome home.”

“Oh shit… yeah you need a roommate to afford this place.” She was right; it was a two-bedroom in downtown Seattle.

“What’s with the extra room?”

“Oh it was my boyfriend’s office.”

“Ex,” Cammi corrects me with a smile. I raised an eyebrow—but I was grateful, I needed that reminder around.

“You gotta speak reality into existence… or you will be stuck checking his Facebook when you’re forty.” I rolled my eyes… she was annoyingly honest, but I was glad to have her so far.

“Okay, so the office is now ur room… I see you only have clothes, but I have a blow-up bed. I can get you set up with some blankets or towels. Then this weekend we gotta get you furniture.”

“Aww it’s like a sleepover. But this weekend is bad for me… I got a gig and as my new roommate and BFF you have to come.” I sighed but couldn’t help the smile that was growing on my face. She was charming and it felt like she could convince me to do anything even after only knowing her for a couple of hours.

“Okay… blow-up bed for the week and weekend it is.”

“Or we can share.”

“Cammi…”

“My bad—too far,” she holds up her hands and then begins to lug her belongings into the room. I shake my head and search for the blow-up bed and blankets in the closet. In the midst of my hospitality, I hear loud metal from Cammi’s room. I cover my ears to stop future bleeding and barge into her room. She had a rolling tray and two blunts lined up. She quickly turned off her music and bit her lip.

“Too loud?”

“Uh… yes.”

“My bad,” she says, sticking the blunt between her lips.

“Oh. Do you wanna hit it?”

“Uh… duh. But first… let me get your stuff ready.” She was obviously a mess and I knew she would eventually annoy me… but I could tell she meant well. I smiled to myself as I prepared her linen.

Once I set up Cammi’s bedding a blunt followed. I took the biggest inhale I could and an aggressive cough followed. Cammi winced and laughed at the same time.

“Someone had a long day.”

“More like a long year,” I say, rubbing my forehead. I pass the blunt back to Cammi and turn to make my exit.

“Wait, that’s it? Come on, it’s our first night as roomies,” she says, still holding the blunt for me to take. I look at the door then at her, contemplating going to bed or staying up with my new roommate from Craigslist.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t oversleep—I’m very punctual.” That probably wasn’t true, but her charming and borderline flirtatious demeanor made it hard to say no to her. So I sat on the vacant floor and took another pull from the blunt.

“So… what happened with the ex?” Cammi slides into her pile of linen and her eyes go low as I pass her the blunt.

“Come on, dude. Let’s just get high and vibe.”

“Okay dude, but I deserve to know… it’s tenant courtesy.”

“Oh, shut up!” I say, nudging her.

“Nah, my bad. I’m just nosy. Also a bit confused.”

“Confused?”

“Yeah… you seem like a decent roommate so far, I have no doubt you weren’t a decent partner.”

“I tried to be,” I sigh as she passes me the blunt back.

“We were just from two different worlds. He was a preppy Ivy League baby and I’m just—me, a broke barista trying to just survive.” I shrug and take another huge pull. No cough followed, but there was some release.

“Yeah, that combo hardly works.” I sit up and fold my arms.

“Okay, that was rude.”

“No—I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. It’s just—it’s better to stick with your people. I would never date a girl outside of my orbit. She wouldn’t get me—humans need understanding.” I didn’t want to admit that she might have been right. Maybe it’s best to stick to what you were used to—but I didn’t know who I was used to. Ian was my first.

“What if he is what I’m used to.”

“He’s not… you still look like you’re finding your people.”

“Not really—I found Izzy.”

“The mean one at your job?”

“Okay, stop.”

“Sorry, it’s just you don’t seem like you’re on the same level as her… she seems uptight—and you’re not.”

“We balance each other well. Sometimes opposite is what you need.” I take one last pull and stand up.

“Going to bed?” Cammi questions.

“Yeah, I open tomorrow,” I say, reaching for the door.

“Well—goodnight, roomie,” Cammi says. I turn to face her and her smile is closed but genuine and almost sweet. I wave and smile as I exit the room. For some reason, for the remainder of the night—I couldn’t stop feeling fuzzy.

“You reek,” Izzy says, folding her arms as I slip into my apron.

“So now weed is like the ultimate sin.” She shoves me and we both share a laugh.

“No, but seriously—it’s giving freshman year, when we hotboxed my dad’s car.”

“Oh shit—that’s bad,” I say, snatching a ticket from the espresso machine.

“Matcha needs to go.”

“Fucking tell me about it,” Izzy says, showing me four tickets of matcha lattes. I snatched a few to help her with the load. As I entered into full barista mode a pair of green eyes with fresh eyeliner appeared over the espresso machine.

“Cammi?” My cheeks began to fill up with heat and my stomach felt like it had butterflies—but on steroids. I was happy to see her.

“Hey roomie—I gotta head to the studio. Caffeine for your favorite roommate?”

“You’re my only roommate.”

“Still.” She winks and pouts her lip.

“Even roommates—have to pay,” Izzy calls out from behind the noise of the milk frother.

“I’ll cover her,” I say, winking back.

“Just an espresso! I just gotta be AWAKE.” She says, widening her eyes with her hands. I let out a loud giggle and her face goes into a gentle smirk. I quickly hand her a double shot and shoo her away.

“Now go—before you piss off Izzy,” I say, poking her forehead.

“Alright, bye, roomie… BYE IZZY.”

“ALRIGHT, GET OUT, IT’S 8 AM,” Izzy yells as she sets down the online orders. Cammi makes a run for it but pauses. She looks back and gives me a smile with an energetic wave. I give her one back—but she’s already out the door. I take a deep breath and place my hand over my heart.

“Oh God.”

“What?” I say defensively.

“Do you like her?”

“Oh my God, Izzy—shut up.” Izzy smirks and puts her hands up as a defense.

“Can you stop—seriously,” I say, shaking my head.

“Okay. I’m sorry—it’s just you’re blushing…”

“STOPPP,” I yell, shoving her forehead. We laugh, shaking off the comment. I had only just met Cammi and I’m not gay—I knew Cammi was. I just haven’t felt this way before. Maybe Cammi is just what I need after the whole Ian fiasco—and I was already grateful for her. It was the first morning where Ian didn’t cross my mind.

After a shift of endless matchas—I was stained in green powder and ready to head home. I folded my apron up and placed it in my cubby.

“Maria?” I hear Izzy say behind me.

“Nope! No doubles for me—I don’t care who called out.”

“No—no it’s not that. It’s about Cammi. How do you know you can trust her? It’s just she just got here and you seem so like—into her.”

“Oh my gosh—you’re jealous. Oh baby—no one could replace you,” I caress her cheek and go in for a kiss. She pushes my face and we laugh as we playfully slap each other.

“No, seriously—be careful. I know you’re vulnerable right now… I just don’t want just anyone coming into your life.”

“I know… but I’m fine. Plus, I really need help with the rent. Also if I ever turned to lesbianism… you would be my first.”

“Oh shut up! You couldn’t handle this even if I let you,” Izzy swishes her waist as she walks away. I roll my eyes and blow her a friendly kiss.

“Bye, lover,” I say playfully as I make my way to the exit.

Before I could put the key in the door—loud metal music was pounding from my apartment. I quickly push open my door and see Cammi pushing a bed into the room.

“Cammi! The music… I GOT NEIGHBORS!” She rushes to turn off the music and rushes over to me on her knees.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry… forgive me?” She pouts her lips and gives me that sad puppy look—the same look I usually give Izzy. I laugh and shake my head.

“Just keep it down… these people are so prissy.” She stands up and opens her arms for a hug.

“Hug and make up?” she asks. I sigh and embrace her fully. Her arms wrapped around me and suddenly my body felt as loose as silk and I fell into her.

“Long day?”

“Yeah… too many matchas.” We pull apart awkwardly and Cammi scratches her head.

“So… you got a bed?” I say, trying to avoid silence.

“Oh shit—yeah!” She pulled my arm towards her room, I began to trip over my feet.

“Cammi, please.”

“Sorry, I got a little excited… but here it is!” She pushes open her door and the room is completely transformed. She had new sheets that were mix-matched and fluffy across her bed. There were blackout curtains and LED lights were along her ceiling—they phased out into random colors. She had posters and tapestries along with a small dresser—she even had a section for her music stuff.

“Wow,” I say, grazing the posters and tapestries.

“Which band is this?”

“Oh—that’s Mötley Crüe, it’s an older band—you may not know it. But how do you like the transition…?”

“I love it! You really made it a home.”

“Yup! All thanks to the junkyard and Facebook Market.” I look over to her with a beaming smile.

“Not bad.”

“Yup! See! I am responsible… fully furnished this bitch in less than twenty-four hours.” She says, folding her arms. She was selling me—she was fun, down to earth, and efficient. Izzy’s skepticism felt like pure best friend paranoia—I really enjoyed Cammi so far and it felt like we could become great friends. I was excited that I had replaced my emptiness with life and vibes—and I get to keep my apartment. Things were far from perfect when it came to getting over Ian—but it’s a start to a new and healing friendship. I backed out of Cammi’s room to get ready to wash off any matcha residue.

After my shower I fully dove into stalker ex-girlfriend mode. In the midst of trying to forget I found one of Ian’s items in the closet while looking for pajamas. I guess one more swoop was needed. I held onto the bland navy blue tie and began to search him up from my burner. The deeper I got—the tighter my grip. He was living it up—as if I never existed. Drinks with coworkers, work trips to Italy for work, and a new apartment in LA… as if one in Washington wasn’t enough.

No more pictures of us or his previous life with me were up. Now his new life was the reality and I was his past. Before logging off—a particular post caught my eye. It was him and a girl at dinner. It was posted around the time he had come to get his last box.

There they were—cuddled up in a booth in some restaurant. She had her blonde head leaning on his broad and strong shoulders. His hand was interlocked with hers and the caption was “with my favorite girl.” As I sat there with his now wrinkled tie in hand I realized—I was old news, a phase even. Tears poured out of my eyes and streamed along my nose and lips—I was a mess and looked it too.

I sat up trying to get myself in order and my door crept open. I looked up to see Cammi in shorts and a tank top and her hands were filled with wine, weed, and snacks.

“I heard crying so—I decided to take my me time and bring it to you,” she shrugs with a half smile. I let out a struggling laugh and wave to her to come in. She smiles and gently sets her things aside and crawls next to me.

“This is so weird—we just met and you’re in my bed,” I say, shaking my head as I grab the blunt from her.

“I’ve slept with girls sooner—like fifteen minutes into meeting.”

“That’s terrible, Cammi.”

“No—it’s realistic.” I roll my eyes and giggle as a smirk appears on her face.

“It’s so easy to make you laugh, man.”

“What can I say? I’m a giggle bot.” Cammi slowly looks at me and gives me a side-eye—we both burst out laughing. We hold our stomachs and fall all over each other.

“Yeah… you’re high,” Cammi says, taking the blunt from me.

“Hey! I only had one puff,” I say, laughing hysterically—it would be shameful if that’s all it took.

“Anyways—What’s with the tie and the tears?”

“Well my ex that I was with for two years—has completely forgotten me. He just moved out, by the way—it’s like I didn’t matter.”

“Let me see him—that will tell me everything.” Cammi holds out her hand and I look at her like she has two heads.

“No way—you’re going to just judge me.”

“I’m not Izzy,” she says. I lightly slap her arm.

“Hey… that’s my best friend you’re talking about.”

“Whatever. Let me see the loser.”

“SEE!” I yell, snatching away my phone, but she reaches over to snatch it back. For a moment our noses almost brush against each other and her eyes stay locked into mine. I look away feeling embarrassed for some reason.

“Oh… Maria. A GINGER? Of course he’s an asshole.”

“Stop! That’s so stupid… he was sweet, we just didn’t align.”

“Or he’s just an asshole… a rich asshole. You couldn’t marry him, divorce him and get all the money?”

“It’s a prenup kind of family.”

“Ah!” she says, handing my phone back. We lean back into the bed and smile. She passes me back the blunt with a wink and suddenly—it wasn’t all bad.

The next morning the sun beamed on my face. This time it felt less blinding and more warm and welcoming. I began to stretch within the covers. I looked down and found Cammi’s arms wrapped around my waist. I smile as I break away from her embrace. It was the first morning I didn’t feel so sluggish or over it. I made my way to the bathroom for a morning piss. I closed my eyes and let my body release. In the middle of my morning solitude I hear the bathroom door swing open. I immediately close my legs and stretch my t-shirt over my knees.

“Cammi? What the hell?”

“What? I gotta brush my teeth and—we’re both girls,” she says, twirling her hair jokingly. I wanted to protest, but for some reason a part of me didn’t mind. I smile as I shake my head. She grabs my face and plants a kiss on my forehead.

“Morning, roomie,” she says as she heads over to brush her teeth. I smile instantly and hold my hands to my face. It was confusing. The only other woman that kissed my face was my mom. The kiss didn’t feel nurturing or even platonic, but it was warm and I didn’t mind it at all.

“Morning,” I say as I wipe and flush. I quickly head out the bathroom and slide on my sweats.

“I’m gonna stop at my job for coffee. Want any?” I called out from the bathroom door.

“Just an espresso!” I nod as I search for my keys.

“Oh—Maria. My show is tonight at the club called Monarchy—you gotta come. I’ll send you the link while I’m at practice.”

“Oh, okay. Can Izzy come?” Cammi rolls her eyes with her toothbrush sticking out her mouth.

“I promise you—she’s way more fun outside of work, and she just takes more time to warm up,” I say, nodding.

“Fine. Just no boring bullshit—and no hogging you. I want you to meet my crew.”

“I’ll pass,” Izzy says as she restocks the half and half.

“Ugh… WHY?”

“Cammi just seems… not genuine. I can’t put my finger on it—but I just don’t know about her.”

“Please, Izzy… we barely hang out and I really think we could all be an iconic trio!”

“Right,” she says as she cleans the countertop. My shoulders fall and I look at her with my classic puppy dog look—hoping my bullshit would work. She shakes her head as a smile creeps on her face.

“Fine,” she says in a low tone. I run to the back of the counter and kiss her cheek.

“Woah… I thought we were jokingly lovers.”

“Sorry… Cammi gave me one this morning and just wanted to give you one.”

“Right.”

“Relax. Don’t overthink it,” I say as I speed out of the café. It felt good to start to feel close to Cammi and to leave everything behind for a night.

PART THREE:

Hours later I had my outfit laid out and my hair in rollers as I lined my eyes with mascara and eyeliner. As I perfected the only makeup I knew how to do I heard a knock at the door. I rushed over and swung it open—Izzy carefully walked into the apartment with a bottle of tequila.

“Cammi is setting up with her band! Oouuu—let me have some of this,” I say as I bring out the shot glasses. Izzy hugs her arms as she watches me overly pour the liquor into our glasses.

“Bottoms up!” I say as I pass her a glass—but Izzy was unamused. She was looking to the side and had her arms folded.

“What’s wrong?”

“I saw something on Ian’s Instagram—he was with a girl,” she says anxiously. I smiled gently—Ian was the last thing on my mind.

“I know, I saw last night and Cammi really cheered me up… so, fuck him and take your shot.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I got over it in seconds, with Cammi there. I’m actually super happy with a roommate!”

“Right,” she says, slowly picking up her glass.

“Hey—I love you. YOU are my best friend,” I blow her a kiss and we down our shots.

“Oh fuck—I need a chaser.” I pass her some Coca-Cola and return to getting ready.

We arrived at Cammi’s show just in time—or so we thought. The line was already out the door and everyone was dressed in denim and leather. Everyone but us—I had on a brown crochet top with a tube top under with a maxi skirt to follow. Izzy had on a bodysuit with a jean jacket and Converse.

“I need to change.”

“Why? You look fine,” Izzy says as she chugs her beer. I take a drunken sip out of mine—the pregame drunkness started to get to me.

“I don’t know. Do you think Cammi will think it’s lame?”

“Jesus… Maria.”

“No—No, I’m just saying… I just want her to think I’m cool… because she’s cool.”

“Oh my gosh—please don’t turn lesbian because of Ian. Not only is that insane but offensive.”

“Izzy… you’re drunk,” I say as I wobble where I stood.

“So are you,” she says, poking my nose. The line moves and two bouncers come behind us.

“Lead singer says to let y’all in—follow me.”

“How does he know it’s us?” Izzy whispers. I shrug—I didn’t bother asking questions. Whispers and eye rolls came from the crowd as we entered. The club was filled with sweaty bodies and EVERYONE looked like they were a part of a band. We surfed through the crowd, trying to make it to the front. We held our beers close and each other closer as the lights began to dim. A strum from an electric guitar fills the room and the stage is in the spotlight. The crowd roars and moves in waves—shoving us closer to the front.

There she was—in her leather jacket and white t-shirt. Her shaggy but glossy hair fell over her black eyeshadow-stained eyes. She grips onto the mic as her eyes search the crowd—our eyes lock and it’s like—we were the only ones in the universe. I take a deep breath—she winks and smiles. The lyrics flow from her mouth and suddenly I feel like she put a spell on me. Her eyes stay locked into mine as her song grows stronger. Izzy and I bounce to the music—my smile grows bigger as I shake my hair to her tune. It was almost as beautiful—as her.

Cammi’s band played about four or five songs—I loved them all. Throughout the whole concert—our eyes didn’t leave each other. In the middle of the show, Izzy got us cocktails; in other words—we were fucked up. Even in the middle of my drunkness, I had one goal—find Cammi. Izzy and I wandered through the club that was now less congested.

“Wow, Cammi can really sing, Maria!” Izzy says, nudging me.

“Yeah… she looked great,” I say as my eyes searched the crowd.

“She kept looking towards us! I think she saw us in the crowd.” I gulped what was left of my drink and thought maybe I should just wait for Cammi at home. After all—she was basically on her way to fame. As I turned to finish my drink and find an exit—a pair of warm arms wrapped around my waist. I quickly turn and see—Cammi.

“Oh my gosh! You did great,” I say, embracing her. She hugs me back tightly and kisses my cheek. My stomach starts to turn. I can’t tell if it was the booze or my body trying to tell me something.

“Thanks, baby,” she says, smiling and holding my hand. I had no idea if I was too drunk to enforce my boundaries or I no longer needed them.

“We saw you looking towards us, you were great—Cammi,” Izzy says, smiling warmly. Everything felt good as if it was meant to be this way all along.

“Thanks, Izzy!” Cammi says, holding me closer—by the waist this time.

“Well, I’m going to get Izzy and I in an Uber. I’ll see you at home.”

“Wait—I wanted to introduce you to the crew,” she says, tugging me. Izzy looks at me as if she was waiting for me to tag along in the Uber.

“When we go out—we usually leave together,” Izzy says, folding her arms. I had a sour taste in my mouth—I was torn between my friendship and whatever was happening between Cammi and I. I couldn’t help to be torn towards Cammi.

“How about this—My guy, B-Dog. He’s my dealer, he’s super cool and can drop off Izzy and take us back to the club.” Cammi looks at us with wide eyes and a smile.

“Alright…” Izzy says.

“Cool,” Cammi says. She gives me a kiss on the cheek and runs off. Izzy starts to walk inside and I follow after her.

Once we get outside we hug our bodies for warmth.

“Are you mad?”

“What? No.” Izzy says. I knew she was lying.

“Dealer for what?”

“Huh?”

“Cammi’s dealer. What does he sell?”

“Weed, probably. Cammi always has some.”

“Are you sure? I’m not trying to be mean… but, Cammi looked really high tonight.”

“Izzy, please. Everyone smokes.”

“No—Maria. It looked like a different high—the high you get from hard drugs or something. Her pupils—were heavily dilated.” Izzy hugs her body tighter as she looks down at her feet.

“Maybe she’s just excited because she put on a good show,” I say coldly. I didn’t know if it was the drunkenness getting to me or Izzy’s judgment, but I couldn’t take all the questions.

“I’m sorry—you’re my best friend and I love you.”

“Yes, Izzy. My friend—not wife, jeez.”

“Right. So Cammi is your wife now?” We both fell silent and the only thing that filled the silence was the sounds of Seattle at night. Cammi burst through the doors with a tall white man—he had dreads, an oversized hoodie that reeked of weed, and tore-up Air Forces.

“Ladies—meet, B-Dog.”

“Wassup, mamas?”

“Excuse me?” Izzy says, looking him up and down.

“Where’s the car?” I ask, smiling as hard as I possibly can.

Once we were in the car—it really got weird. Izzy kept her arms folded and her head facing the window. Cammi had sat on the opposite side and I was caught in the middle of not only the car—but the tension. Cammi placed her hand in mine, I look up to her smiling at me. I wanted to look into her eyes to see if Izzy was right. But at that moment I didn’t want the night to be tainted by what was or wasn’t reality. I look over to Izzy and see her facing nothing but the car window. I grip onto her wrist and she whips her head, facing me. Her face wasn’t annoyed or angry but filled with worry.

“It’s the red and brown building on the left corner,” Izzy says, pointing towards the mini brownstone on the corner.

“Oh nice—real artsy, Izzy,” Cammi chimes in.

“Uh huh,” Izzy says, side-eyeing her.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” I quickly jump out the car. I keep my hands clasped against each other as I quickly follow behind her.

“You could have stayed in the car, Maria.”

“I just wanted to make sure you got in okay.”

“Right. Maria… I love you, I mean that. I hope you have fun tonight—make good choices.” She looks up at me with disappointing eyes as if she expected me to snap out of it. But to my knowledge I was in control—and Izzy was just paranoid. As usual.

“I’ll be fine—see you tomorrow to open.” I give her a small hug and squeeze her gently.

“I love you,” I say as I turn to walk towards the car. I hop in and Cammi pulls me close and it almost feels like this is exactly where I should be.

“Ayeee, my favorite girl is back,” Cammi says, hugging onto me.

“Now you’re just kissing my ass,” I say, poking her forehead.

“I wouldn’t mind.” I try to hide my shock—but she was definitely hitting on me now. Boundaries didn’t cross my mind—just pure butterflies.

“Careful, homegirl—Cammi falls fast.”

“I’ve heard,” I say, giggling as we hold onto one another in the back seat. In the middle of whatever we were, I noticed we passed the club and kept going straight.

“Wait? We aren’t going back to Monarchy?”

“Nahhh… we’re going somewhere way better,” B-Dog says.

“Aye Cammi. Want a hit?” B-Dog says, reaching for something.

“Not now, man,” Cammi says. Her lips form into a line and her eyes are alert and wide—and her pupils are dilated.

“Cammi, your eyes,” I say, weakly smiling. She pulls out her camera and her cheeks get red.

“I’m good. This just happens when I’m looking at something I like,” she says, inching closer to me. I turn my head and smile into my chest—I didn’t know what was going on, but I was excited.

“You’re so drunk,” I say, pushing her face from mine.

“Barely—but I know you’re wasted,” she says, shaking me, and we fall into our laughter as we speed onto the highway.

We pull up to some loft-type of apartment. House music was bumping so hard the door sounded like it was on its last straw.

“Yo Cam… we should do a bump before we go in.”

“I said—not now,” Cammi says even sterner than before—she even gritted her teeth.

“A bump? What’s that?” I ask out of curiosity and slight fear, I was new to the party scene—I was more of a “lets get wasted inside” kind of girl.

“It’s nothing—don’t worry, you’re safe with me,” she says, gripping my shoulders. I immediately felt trusting, even more than I already did—maybe it’s the liquor or maybe Cammi really was just what I needed.

The doors opened and the lights were a dull red, the air was smoky, and everyone looked borderline naked or high off of something. A whole group starts to swarm up to us—mainly for Cammi.

“Hey baby—long time no talk.” A girl with long silky brown hair and olive skin wraps her arms around Cammi. I feel my throat tighten and I begin to let go of her hand but she grips it tighter.

“Wassup, Laura.” Cammi says with a straight face and low eyes. Laura pushes her lips against Cammi’s. I quickly turn away and force my hands out of her grip. I move quickly through the crowd, I was embarrassed. Whatever was happening between us—I clearly read wrong.

I search for an exit but the deeper I got—the more lost I felt. I pull out my phone to text Izzy that maybe she was right. In the middle of my panic—a text from Ian.

Ian: Hey… I know it’s late, but I left a box of some items in the closet. I guess I should have taken that one swoop, huh? Anyways… let me know a good time to pick it up.

Great. Just what I needed. The girl I basically have a crush on? Kisses whoever the fuck Laura is—and then this text. I couldn’t take it anymore—I needed an out but I knew I was far from the exit. I run my fingers through my hair, all I wanted to do was go back to Izzy and let her say “I told you so.”

A pair of warm arms wrapped around my waist—I knew it was Cammi. I turned around with tears streaming down—even better.

“Oh baby…”

“Just—please. I’ll meet you at home.”

“No—Maria—just wait.” Cammi steps in front of me—her eyes are wide but not from whatever she was on. She just seemed desperate. She grabs my hands and drags me through the crowd and we push ourselves in a tiny bathroom.

“Okay—I’m sorry. She’s my ex and she’s insane and lacks basic boundaries—especially when she takes Molly and she definitely did tonight.” I could barely process what she was telling me. The cocktails still tainted most of my judgment, all I knew was—I liked Cammi and I was angry—at everything.

“Hmm, sounds familiar.”

“Molly?”

“No—Cammi. Lack of boundaries.”

“Between us?” I didn’t know what to say. Deep down I knew I wanted more boundaries to fall between us and I didn’t know if it was passion or pure recklessness.

“I don’t know,” I say, covering my hands with my face.

“I like you.” The words spill out of Cammi. Her face is straight and she grabs my hands.

“I know—this is fast.”

“Yeah…” I say, stepping back. I was still not over Ian… and I was sure I wasn’t gay. I didn’t know what to think… or feel.

“It’s just so much… Ian texted me. You like me and to be honest—I like you too. Which is crazy because I’m not gay.” Cammi smiles and grabs my face. She gently places her lips on mine. The kiss was gentle, calm, and sweet. The opposite of Cammi—minus the sweet part.

“Well now—I’m even more confused.”

“I’m always confused,” Cammi says, smiling.

“Here, this will make you forget all the bullshit—minus me.” She pulls out a small bag with white powder. I immediately flinched—I couldn’t believe what I saw.

“Is that… cocaine?” Cammi looks up and her smile drops.

“It’s just a party drug for me, not a regular thing. Plus—I’m only giving you a little. You’re my roommate, don’t worry—you’re safe with me, Maria.” I know words and potential promises shouldn’t mean shit—but I couldn’t help but indulge. She had me convinced—that I would be safe with her. I didn’t know a woman I only lived with for a few days could convince me—with just sweet words.

“Okay…” I said. Once I let her in—my mind filled with regrets—but my body leaned into the powder she placed on her finger.

Suddenly the magic party drug dipped its toe in my bloodstream—and it was just Cammi and I.

The next morning—my head was pounding and my eyes were on fire. My alarm was also going off—for thirty minutes. I jerked out of bed and immediately fell as I touched the ground. Cammi comes rushing out from the living room and picks me up—with a giggle to follow.

“You okay, babe?” she asks. I look at her with confusion, my eyes wander to her neck and body that were filled with hickeys.

“Did you hook up?”

“Yeah.”

“With who?” I ask as my eyes widen.

“With you…” I close my eyes immediately and memories of last night pop in my mind like old photographs. Cammi and I—on the dance floor. Hugging, kissing and everything under the sun. I remember getting home and us fully undressing ourselves.

“You okay…?” Cammi asks, rubbing my arms. I look up at her warm green eyes—her pupils were normal and she was herself again, it seemed like. I didn’t bother to fill myself up with questions—I was just excited to be with Cammi.

“Yeah. I’m good,” I say, smiling. She pushed her nose against mine and our lips do the same, it felt right—but slightly insane.

“So, what you wanna do today?”

“Oh, I have work… like—NOW,” I say, pushing her aside to speed brush my teeth and to attempt to make myself not look like roadkill.

“Ugh, I look like shit and feel like it,” I say, rubbing my head.

“Want a pick-me-up?” Cammi calls from the bedroom.

“I do. I’ll text Izzy to make my order.”

“No—something better than coffee.” She stood by the bathroom with a small bag of powder. My body stiffened—oh yeah… I did cocaine. I hug my body out of shame. I always said no hard drugs. I feel like I just broke an oath of my personality or something,

“I thought it was for parties.”

“And… an occasional pick-me-up. You need it—and I just don’t want Izzy barking at you, baby.” After last night—I couldn’t take any more tension. I never had an addictive personality—crazy, but not addictive.

“Alright.” I take the drug in and—I was alive.

“MORNINGGGGGG IZZY WIZZY,” I scream as I burst through the doors—just in time, of course. Izzy looks at me as if I was a ghost—I grab her face and plant one on her cheek.

“Someone’s on time… and energized.”

“You know me, baby. I’m here—I’m there. I’m—EVERYWHERE,” I say as I slide out of Cammi’s jacket.

“You’re wearing her clothes now? Maybe you are falling for her,” she teases as she hands me my apron.

“I’m falling—falling, hard,” I say, swishing my waist.

“What do you mean?”

“Cammi and I—are much closer now.”

“Maria… you didn’t.”

“I DID. I can’t remember much but wow she’s—amazing, beautiful, FUN, and the best part about it—I can be me.”

“You’ve known her for three days.”

“Four… going on five,” I protest.

“Maria. You barely know her and to be honest… she’s exactly what you don’t need right now—especially with the Ian stuff.”

“Fuck him—I’m with Cammi now.”

“You can’t be fucking serious… YOU JUST MET HER. She’s crazy and you know it.”

“You know what—you’re so uptight! Cammi literally said you would bitch at me. Like oh my gosh, my boyfriend LEAVES ME with not only a broken heart but a FUCKING LEASE. And all you do is—judge me.”

“Maria…”

“What?”

“Are you on something…?”

“Oh give me a BREAK,” I say, slamming my fist on the counter. The weight of my hands triggers Izzy’s lattes to fall to the ground. Izzy’s eyes stay planted on the ground.

“You’re fired.”

“What?”

“You’re fired. It’s long overdue anyway.”

“Fuck you.”

I push into the apartment and immediately get bombarded by smoke and heavy metal pounding through the walls.

“Cammi?” I call out.

“I got fired!” I yell out. Still no response. I push open her door and see a room filled with randoms, but also familiar faces. B-Dog and—Laura.

“Ayeeee Maria! Wassup, mamacitaaa,” B-Dog says, waving his hands in the air. Cocaine stained his nose and his eyes looked as if they could pop out his head. Cammi was stuck in the corner with her forehead against Laura’s—I push through the bodies that crowded the room.

“Cammi—What the fuck.” She looks up and her eyes widen.

“Baby—I thought you were working.”

“I got fired,” I say.

“Damn, Mary,” Laura says, rubbing my arm. I slap it away and drag Cammi from her grip. I lead her into my room and sit her down.

“I thought she was an ex with boundary issues?”

“She is—and she’s a connect.” Cammi pulls out an even bigger bag—but filled with pills.

“I can’t.”

“Baby, relax—you just lost your job. Relax with me.” I started to feel like I was heading down a slippery slope. I lost Ian and Izzy, all that was left was Cammi—and whatever was in that bag. I nod as my head hangs down.

“That’s my girl.”

I didn’t wake up till the next day. The blinds were closed and my room was a mess. I was fully naked and confused. The last thing on my mind was Cammi handing me some pill.

“Cammi,” I called out weakly. My throat felt dry and my chest felt caved in.

“Cammi…?” I called out again as I slipped out of bed. But there was no response. My heart began to pulsate as I quickly wrapped myself in blankets. I pushed open her door and the room was empty.

I grab my phone and quickly dial her number. One ring—and it hung up. I try her again—nothing. I let out a frustrated scream and slam my phone on the wall. I decided to get dressed and check the studio. I searched for my wallet and keys but could only locate my wallet. I began to feel more frantic by the minute. I opened my phone out of fear and send Cammi a text—instantly it went green. I pressed my forehead against my phone and slid against the wall. My phone rings and the number was unknown. I pick up immediately.

“Cammi?”

“Uh… no. It’s Izzy—I couldn’t reach you from my phone… I guess you blocked me. Um—anyways, you gotta come pick up your last check so…”

“I need to find Cammi—have you seen her?”

“Wow… you’re a piece of work, Maria.”

“No—Izzy, my wallet is missing and she’s gone. I think she’s hurt.”

“Jesus, Maria…”

“What, Izzy? What fucking now?”

“She’s a junkie—Maria. Your wallet is gone—and I suggest you look for a new roommate.” The line clicks—and the words Izzy said echo in my mind.

“She’s a junkie—Maria.” I close my eyes and lean my head on the door.

I sat there the whole day—feeling at a loss. After hours my phone rings.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Maria.” It was Cammi.

“Oh my gosh—Cammi. Are you okay? Where are you? I lost my wallet—”

“I have it—I needed to borrow some cash.”

“Why…? You’re a lead singer for an up-and-coming band.”

“I was just filling in… I usually fill in for bass but I did some convincing. I’m going to give your wallet back—I just needed some things.”

“Like drugs?” The line was silent—that’s when I knew what Cammi was—a fraud.

“Don’t bother coming back—even though I know you’re not.” I hung up before her manipulation could pull me in deeper.

As I laid in the middle of the floor, I realized not only was my heart broken—but my soul.