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demands

The universe, however, was seemingly unfinished with peddling its confusing agenda and vague demands. Mitch’s pocket vibrated, and he pulled his phone out. He didn’t even need to unlock it to see that the message was from Calvin, and that it was a demand -not a request- that he come get his stuff by the end of the week, or it’d be tossed out. He threw his back and choked out a laugh, though it was more of a cough from the way that his throat tightened.

He weighed his options. Realistically, it wouldn’t be the worst thing if his meager possessions were thrown away. Sure, it wouldn’t be sustainable to keep using Jodie’s laptop for work, but that could be said for everything else currently going on in his life. He’d miss the guitar that he’d bought for himself as a teenager with the money from his first paycheck. He’d grieve over the small mementos given to him by his mother, mostly letters and photographs he’d kept putting off on digitizing, but that sort of stuff could be found in his uncle’s attic as well. Cendre, the worn stuffed rabbit he’d had since he was born, had probably already been put into the trash, anyway; Calvin always thought it was tacky and disgusting, even if he didn’t use those exact words. Although irreplaceable, it may be the price to pay to never have to interact with his ex again.

Except, he had to sort out the health insurance situation. That was enough to push him over the edge, and tears began to well up. “C’mon, not now,” he whined, and threw his arm over his face. The locker rooms were nearby, he could possibly lock himself in one of the bathroom stalls there and not risk anyone seeing him like this. Just because his life had blown apart into shrapnel didn’t mean that anyone else needed to be subjected to it. Especially at a birthday party, of all places.

The creak of the kitchen door ripped him right out of his self-flagellation. His head snapped so fast that, for a moment, it was as disorienting as whiplash. There stood Avi, perhaps the last person that he wanted to see, effectively still nothing more than a stranger, with the doorknob in his grasp and appearing to transition from surprise to gentle concern. Mitch desperately wanted to scream at him to leave, unleash his anguish and fury on literally anyone instead of continuing to bottle it up, but bit his tongue. He didn’t have the energy, and no one deserved to be on the receiving end of that.

And it wasn’t that he was angry at Avi, or that he didn’t want to deal with him. Avi represented everything that he wasn’t, and he didn’t want to face his own antithesis at such a low point.

“Jodie wanted me to tell you to grab the ice cream from the freezer,” he started to explain, but then stopped. “Are you…are you OK?”

“Does it look like I’m-” Mitch snapped, then took a deep breath to shut up.

“I’m sorry, that was…” Avi shook his head. “Uh, you know what? Lemme just grab the stuff, I’ll leave you alone.”

Though those were the exact words that Mitch thought that he wanted to hear, his insides sharply twisted. It was he as though was drowning, despite boats full of people that were passing by, moving on without him and leaving tidal waves in their wake. Leaving him to die. Yet, here he was, doing nothing to signal his location, or that he needed help.

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When Avi’s back faced him, he blurted out, “My boyfriend broke up with me.”

Avi’s head swiveled away from the freezer, the surprised expression back in full force. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry.”

Mitch’s mouth hung open slightly, shocked that he’d said anything at all. He’d hoped that Avi would resume his errand, but they just stared at one another. “He’s-” words tumbled out again of their own accord, faster than he could reel them back in. “He did it the day after I got injured…” Trailing off, Mitch clutched his right arm, either to illustrate his point or to try to force himself to stop talking. “I gotta get my stuff back, like, soon, really soon, or he’s gonna-” Another laugh was huffed out, wet and thick, as though there was water in his lungs; but the dam had sprung a leak, and the water was flooding out. He let go of his arm, dropped his head into his hand, and tugged at his hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m sorry.”

“How far away does he live?” Avi’s voice gently broke through the static that was building in Mitch’s ears.

“Southern Connecticut. Uh, like three-ish hours from here?”

“OK. Do you just need a ride to get your stuff?” asked Avi.

Mitch blinked, then looked up in disbelief. “What?”

“Because of your rotator cuff? I’m assuming you can’t drive, right?”

“That’s right,” Mitch warily responded, too confused to ask why Avi was still staring him.

“So…I can drive you?” Avi spoke as if he was saying the most obvious thing in the entire world, like he was giving away the answer to 2+2.

“Wait, what? Why?” Mitch’s face scrunched.

“Iunno, we’re roommates?” Rubbing the back of his neck, Avi sighed. “And we work at the same place, I assume we’re gonna have to get used to one another.”

“It’s a three hour drive,” Mitch reiterated. “That’s one way. Six hour round trip.”

“That’s fine,” nodded Avi, a bit too enthusiastically for Mitch’s liking.

“That’s fine?!”

“Yeah man, it is!” For the first time since they met, Avi dropped the pleasantries and sounded exasperated. “Look, if you don’t want a ride, just say so. But it seems like you could use a break from…dunno, whatever you’re going through.”

“Yes, but! You barely know me!” Mitch exclaimed, feeling the hysterics slip out; his bottom lip trembled and he began to curl inward. Avi’s face softened. He walked away from the fridge and strode across the room, then gingerly sat down on the loveseat next to him. They sat in silence for a few seconds, and Mitch sniffed.

“I don’t have any ulterior motives, if that’s the concern,” Avi softly spoke. “Aside the aforementioned ‘we live and work together’ thing. And maybe I want to get on my boss’ good side to avoid paying rent for the foreseeable future. Point is, I’m not gonna go all serial killer on you or whatever.”

“That sounds like something a serial killer would say,” Mitch joked, and he prayed that it stuck the landing; he exhaled when Avi grinned.

“Fair, fair. But I don’t think they target people that they know, especially not the ones that they live with. So that should disqualify me.”

“OK.” Mitch nodded. “If you’re actually fine with driving six hours to lend a hand to someone that you barely know, I’d really appreciate it. I’ll even give you gas money.”

“Great, just let me know when. My schedule’s pretty open until next week.” After lightly patting Mitch’s back, Avi then got up and returned to the freezer.

“Is Saturday fine? Or is that too soon or-”

“Saturday’s perfect. Lemme know if you have any bands that you’d want for the road trip playlist.” Cartons of ice cream retrieved and juggled, Avi took his leave, repeating “Saturday” under his breath then shutting the door behind him and leaving Mitch to stare vacantly into space.