Billy has to convince his roommate that she is still he.
(adapted from CD Rudd's SailorSun.Org)
by Joyce Melton
I used my key to get into the courtyard then up the stairs to our third floor flat, pausing at the heavy brown door. I still had my keys in one hand, and the bag of leftover Chinese food under my other arm, so it wasn’t too awkward, except…I’d forgotten that the lock sometime stuck. I couldn’t seem to turn the key to unlock the door. Using only one hand
I didn’t normally have this much trouble, even when the lock was being sticky, but I didn’t seem to have the strength in my hand to turn the key. I contemplated putting the bag of food down so I could lift up on the door while twisting the key which had sometimes been necessary. Why hadn’t Jack or I had the apartment handyman fix this stupid lock already?
Suddenly, the door opened, pulling the keys out of my hand hard enough to draw a startled, “Ow!” from me. I stood there, stupidly looking up at Jack.
He had his head cocked sideways in that movement he has that makes him look both amused and a bit of a smart ass at the same time. “Hello,” he said. He glanced at my chest but brought his gaze back up to my eyes. “Do I know you?” he asked.
“I’m Billy,” I said.
He blinked.
I moved to push past him into the apartment, and he automatically got out of the way. A good thing, Jack was a couple of inches over six feet, much bigger than I was now.
He made a noise. “Uh?”
I ignored him, going to the kitchen to put the bag of food in the refrigerator. “I brought home some Chinese leftovers,” I said, pretending nothing was wrong. I stowed the bag next to a six pack of Corona, noticing that while we had plenty of beer and mixers for stronger drink, we were a bit low on real food. I mostly ate out of the freezer and Jack went out to restaurants a lot.
“Um,” he said.
I turned back to look at him. He stared at my chest for a moment then glanced at my face. “I’m Billy,” I repeated. I waved a hand. “This is just a special effect for the movie they’re filming at the studio.”
“Say who?” he asked, looking confused.
I pointed at myself. “Billy. I’m Billy. Jack, it’s me.”
He shook his head and made noises, like a dog about to sneeze. “Wuf?”
I gestured at my chest and hips and all the hair. “It’s a special effect for the filming.”
He stared some more. “Fuck me stupid,” he muttered. Then he asked, “You’re from the studio?”
I nodded. “I’m just getting home. I got a bunch of overtime and they used a special French camera for special effects. That’s why I look like this….”
He grinned slowly. “Wow,” he said. “That’s quite a story, babe. Are you one of Billy’s classmates in the film school? Or just another extra from the studio? I hope he’s paying you for this gag, it’s great.” He laughed, looking me up and down.
“Jerk,” I said. “I’m Billy.” I went to my room, and showing him my key, I unlocked it and went inside.
“Hey!” he said. “That’s Billy’s room.”
“I know,” I called through the door. “It’s my room, I’m Billy.”
“No, you’re not,” he laughed. I heard him go to the front door and went to my window to look out. I saw him come out of our apartment and look both ways down the outside walkway. I could hear him call out, “Billy? Where you hiding, man? This is a great joke.”
I opened the window the two inches allowed by the stop in the slide. “I’m right here, Jack. I’m Billy.” I knew he didn’t believe me, and who could blame him. But I had to come up with some way to convince him. “Ask me something only I would know,” I suggested.
He pointed at me. “You’re cute,” he said, still grinning.
I frowned at him. “Come back inside,” I said and closed the window, then the curtain. I looked around the room, still frowning. “Jeez,” I complained. “I never realized I was such a slob.”
The bed hadn’t really been made, just the cover pulled up over the pillows. Dirty clothes spilled out of the hamper onto the floor. My desk was piled high with books and papers and a few paper plates. I’d apparently left the door of my standalone wardrobe open and the clothes in there looked as if they had been crammed in, rather than being neatly hung up.
They also didn’t look like they had been altered to fit the new me. I glanced down. Only what I’d been wearing at the time had changed. I rolled my eyes as it occurred to me that I really didn’t have a thing to wear except what I had on.
I heard Jack coming back inside and went to the door of my room and opened it to meet him.
He came around the corner of the entryway, still grinning. “Okay, Miss Billy,” he said. “I’ll play the game. What’s my full name?”
“James Urquhart Willoughby the Fourth,” I said. “You really are a Jurq—you’re just spelled funny.”
He frowned. I’d made that same joke the first time he told me his full name. “Where did I go to high school?” he asked.
I snorted. “You got kicked out of four different ones, including some military academy in Virginia.”
He nodded. “Okay. What’s my standard order at Starbucks?”
“Cinnamon Hazelnut Latte. Anybody could know this stuff, ask me something hard. Like what were you and your Aunt Frieda doing in the boathouse on Martha’s Vineyard when you were twelve and she was thirteen?”
He turned red. He’d told me that story when he was pretty drunk and I didn’t think he told it to everyone. They’d gotten naked but never went any further.
“Nothing happened!” he protested.
“But your father didn’t believe you and your grandfather sent Frieda off to school in Europe.”
“Yeah, well,” he grunted. He liked his bad boy reputation and the story didn’t jibe with the image he projected. “Why would Billy tell you this stuff?”
“I’m Billy, Jack. I really am.” The Frieda story should have been a clincher.
He stared at my chest, as if trying to work something out.
I glared at him. “Hey! My eyes are up here,” I said pointing at my own face.
He grinned again. “If you didn’t want me to look at your nipples, you’d be wearing a bra. Billy,” he added, “is it really you behind that rack?”
I looked down at my chest. No wonder everyone stared at me. I’d been aware of my nipples showing but trust Jack to assign me a motive for wearing a tight t-shirt. I sighed. “Yeah, it’s me.”
“Unbelievable,” he said. Then he grinned. “I’ve always wanted a roommate like you.” He leered at me.
“I’m going to move as soon as I can,” I told him quickly.
“You can’t afford to,” he pointed out.
He was right, I couldn’t. “I’ll find something,” I said.
“I’ll sweeten the deal,” said Jack. “I’ll pay the whole rent if you stay.”
My glare was obviously not forceful enough since it had not knocked him down. “Jurq,” I said.
Comments
Caught between a rock and a hard
Not an easy choice.
Stay rent free but at what cost?
or
Find a new place to live + Restock closet.
Find money for above.
Good thing I'm reading about this and not living it. Much funnier this way.
I hope it's funny :)
It cracks me up when I write it. Jack is a real Jurq but he's fun to write.
Hugs,
Erin
= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.
“Jurq"
well, that could have gone worse. but I agree with her, he's a jerk - no matter what the spelling
Maybe
Maybe he's an adorable jurq. :) Time may tell.
Hugs,
Erin
= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.
LOL, Jurq, just spelled funny
On a second reading I laughed a lot more. My eyes are up here. So how and when I'd Billy going get a bra? Good story.
>>> Kay
I laugh
I laugh on rereading it too. I really don't know how I come up with some of this stuff. :) I'm glad others enjoy.
Hugs,
Erin
= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.