Page 90 of Trust Me

“Hey!” I shouted, trying to take it back. There was a giant grin on his face as he touched the screen. My parents’ faces appeared, both of them sitting side by side staring at my batshit crazy roommate.

Oli saluted with two fingers. “Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy. I’m Oliver.” Even though he sounded confident, there was a tightness around his mouth that wasn’t usually there. He brought his lip between his teeth and lifted his gaze to me briefly before he looked at them again.

My parents exchanged pleasantries with him, and I tried not to snatch the phone away immediately. Just from their voices, I could tell they liked him. How could they not? He was goddamn likeable, which I would’ve never said a month ago.

“Dean told me you’re a veteran, Mr. Kennedy.”

“Please, just Lee.”

“Well, I want to thank you for your service, Lee. For sacrificing so much so that people like me can live our happy little lives.”

“I like you,” Mom said. “Dean, I like him.”

“I heard you,” I replied.

Oli winked at me. “Congratulations on the job. Where are you going for dinner?”

“Just a little pizza spot down the road,” she said. “It’s not fancy, but it’s familiar.”

“Familiar is better than fancy any day. I’d love to try it sometime. My treat, of course.”

Great. He was romancing my parents, getting them under his thumb like he’d done to me.

“Or better yet,” he went on, “you’ll have to come to Seattle one day. You can see where your son snores at every night.” He made a sound like a congested Wookie, which drew a laugh from both of them.

“That’s enough of that,” I decided, reaching for the phone. He let me take it, but he pouted a little. Looking at my parents’ faces, I smiled. It was nice to see them together, especially in their going out clothes. “I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too,” Mom replied warmly. “Every day. Maybe you can visit this summer. Bring a girlfriend this time.”

I forced a laugh. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Well, we should get going. Talk to you soon?”

“Of course.”

“It was nice to meet you, Oli!”

After I ended the call, I sat on the couch. I pulled up Google and typed ‘Dr. Matteo, New York.’

Fuck, it was definitely upscale. This was the kind of doctor that I imagined celebrities seeing. It was hard to picture my mom in that office, but I knew that she would thrive if given the chance.

What was harder to imagine was Dr. Matteo in an ER. Maybe he’d rather scope places out to find a nurse he liked instead of posting a job ad. People would apply by the hundreds, and that sounded tedious to sift through.

Weird or not, she needed this. They both did. My family was long overdue for a lucky break.

Oliver dropped down beside me, holding his new figurine to his chest. I wondered if he’d sleep with it tonight.

My eyes traveled to my bedroom door, and I thought about how I’d woken up this morning with my arm slung over him. It wasn’t on purpose, of course. Thankfully, he hadn’t seemed to notice. No harm, no foul.

“Want to watch a few episodes?” he asked.

Sinking lower into the couch, I propped my feet on the coffee table. “Absolutely. I need to find out what bitch was using that guy as a yoyo. It was goddamn traumatizing.”

“Oh man, if that’s traumatizing, I have bad news for you.”

“Damnit.”

“Need emotional support?”

He turned on the TV, then threw an arm around my shoulders. I shrugged him off, and he laughed, but he remained right up against me. Taking out my dab pen, I smoked it for a few long seconds while the show loaded up. I’d need it, and not just to get through the emotional damage of this fucked up show.

And yet, I was obsessed.