Sign in with Facebook
Roommaid Quotes
Roommaid
by
Sariah Wilson29,896 ratings, 3.83 average rating, 2,576 reviews
Open Preview
Roommaid Quotes
Showing 1-30 of 36
“Speaking of scents, we’ve been discussing insects this week and I learned a certain type of orb-weaver spider puts out a scent that smells just like a female moth in heat in order to attract and trap male moths. It made me wonder what my lure scent would be. You know, the thing that would make me fly blindly to my death. I think it would probably be warm apple cider and cinnamon sugar doughnuts.”
― Roommaid
― Roommaid
“So this Tyler guy wants someone to live in his apartment who will clean up after him, look after his dog, and not have sex with him. Don’t they usually call those people wives?”
― Roommaid
― Roommaid
“came to ask me why all the Cs in Pacific Ocean are pronounced differently. She’s so smart.”
― Roommaid
― Roommaid
“Do you want to come with me?” I asked Shay, hopeful for a moment after I texted Tyler’s address back. “Oh, I would but I have this thing where I don’t want to go.”
― Roommaid
― Roommaid
“I wanted to tell you how much I loved coming home to you every day. That I found myself heading home early even though I should have stayed at the office. At some point you became more important to me than my job. I wanted to be with you, all the time. I couldn’t admit it out loud, but I knew that I was falling for you.”
― Roommaid
― Roommaid
“A cat?” he scoffed. “Never. I’m not bringing home some sociopath intent on luring you into a false sense of security before they eat your face.”
― Roommaid
― Roommaid
“Inside, there was a small plush Hello Kitty holding an apple in one hand and a book in the other. She was a teacher.”
― Roommaid
― Roommaid
“He smiled. “I’m pretty sure she’s not plotting my demise. And it’s nice to love somebody who doesn’t want anything in return.”
― Roommaid
― Roommaid
“By the way, I say yes to you teaching me culture.” His words were hot against my skin, sending waves of tingles across my neck and scalp. “I am going to culture you so hard,” I whispered back, trying to joke but failing in the attempt.”
― Roommaid
― Roommaid
“So it seems like your biggest expenses fall in this miscellaneous category. Part of setting a budget is figuring out how much you should be spending and then discipline yourself to stay under that amount. You should also be looking at monthly expenditures that maybe are unnecessary. Like . . .” He scrolled down a bit and said, “Do you really need Netflix?”
That was like asking me if I needed my firstborn child. “Uh, yes. I need it. That’s nonnegotiable. If for no other reason than it allows me to consume television the same way I do ice cream and alcohol.”
He laughed and said, “Okay, okay. You win. Netflix stays. What about this expense for Sephora? A hundred and thirty-two dollars?”
While I’d had to downgrade my hair dye, makeup, cleanser, and toner, I was not willing to give this up. “That’s for my moisturizer.”
He blinked at me a couple of times, as if he hadn’t heard me correctly. “You paid a hundred and thirty-two dollars for lotion for your face?”
“It’s not lotion. It’s moisturizer.”
“For one bottle? What’s in it? Dragon’s blood and the scraping of a unicorn’s horn?”
I wasn’t about to tell him it wasn’t for a whole bottle, but for like two ounces. “Ha-ha. I need it. My face needs it.”
“You don’t need it. You’re beautiful.”
“It’s why I’m beautiful!” I was caught between sheer delight and disbelief at his words, and partial terror that he was going to make me stop using it. But then I started thinking about the way he’d complimented me—he’d said it so matter-of-factly, like it wasn’t his personal opinion, just a truth he happened to agree with.
I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
While I was trying to figure out his deeper meaning, he chuckled and shook his head. “Come on, you’re easily the hottest girl in this apartment.”
If I thought I’d been thrilled before, it was nothing compared to what I was feeling now. A flush started at the top of my scalp and went down to my toes—unpainted because I couldn’t afford to get a pedicure. Then I realized that Tyler was quoting back to me what I’d said about him at the charity event. Did that mean . . . it was a joke? A callback and he didn’t really mean anything by it? Or was he trying to butter me up so that he could pry my moisturizer out of my cold, soon-to-be dehydrated hands?
Not willing to be taken in, I said, “You’re not going to flatter me to get me to change my mind. I’ll remind you that I’m the only girl in this apartment.”
“That’s not true. Pidge is here and she’s gorgeous. Aren’t you?” he asked his dog, bending over to pet her. She licked his cheek and I had never felt more of a kinship to her, ever. He turned his attention back to me. “Do you really need it?”
“The only time I get a facial now is when I open the dishwasher midcycle and the steam hits me in my face. I don’t buy the moisturizer every month. I’m really careful with how much I use on a daily basis. But I’ve had to give up so many other things. Let me have this one.”
“All right, all right.”
― Roommaid
That was like asking me if I needed my firstborn child. “Uh, yes. I need it. That’s nonnegotiable. If for no other reason than it allows me to consume television the same way I do ice cream and alcohol.”
He laughed and said, “Okay, okay. You win. Netflix stays. What about this expense for Sephora? A hundred and thirty-two dollars?”
While I’d had to downgrade my hair dye, makeup, cleanser, and toner, I was not willing to give this up. “That’s for my moisturizer.”
He blinked at me a couple of times, as if he hadn’t heard me correctly. “You paid a hundred and thirty-two dollars for lotion for your face?”
“It’s not lotion. It’s moisturizer.”
“For one bottle? What’s in it? Dragon’s blood and the scraping of a unicorn’s horn?”
I wasn’t about to tell him it wasn’t for a whole bottle, but for like two ounces. “Ha-ha. I need it. My face needs it.”
“You don’t need it. You’re beautiful.”
“It’s why I’m beautiful!” I was caught between sheer delight and disbelief at his words, and partial terror that he was going to make me stop using it. But then I started thinking about the way he’d complimented me—he’d said it so matter-of-factly, like it wasn’t his personal opinion, just a truth he happened to agree with.
I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
While I was trying to figure out his deeper meaning, he chuckled and shook his head. “Come on, you’re easily the hottest girl in this apartment.”
If I thought I’d been thrilled before, it was nothing compared to what I was feeling now. A flush started at the top of my scalp and went down to my toes—unpainted because I couldn’t afford to get a pedicure. Then I realized that Tyler was quoting back to me what I’d said about him at the charity event. Did that mean . . . it was a joke? A callback and he didn’t really mean anything by it? Or was he trying to butter me up so that he could pry my moisturizer out of my cold, soon-to-be dehydrated hands?
Not willing to be taken in, I said, “You’re not going to flatter me to get me to change my mind. I’ll remind you that I’m the only girl in this apartment.”
“That’s not true. Pidge is here and she’s gorgeous. Aren’t you?” he asked his dog, bending over to pet her. She licked his cheek and I had never felt more of a kinship to her, ever. He turned his attention back to me. “Do you really need it?”
“The only time I get a facial now is when I open the dishwasher midcycle and the steam hits me in my face. I don’t buy the moisturizer every month. I’m really careful with how much I use on a daily basis. But I’ve had to give up so many other things. Let me have this one.”
“All right, all right.”
― Roommaid
“I called Shay and before I could speak, she said, “Did you figure out a way to get her last name?”
“I’m at Yuto’s and she’s here and it looks like she may be on a date.”
“Oooh.” She sounded way too excited. “How does she look?”
Like she always did? The same way she had when she’d been in my apartment earlier? “Like a shark wearing a human costume? Gorgeous but deadly? And she makes me feel inadequate in every way that a woman can possibly feel inadequate?”
“Well, that’s not true. You’re not a mother yet and that’s going to be a whole new level of inadequacies. I meant, is she dressed up?”
“I don’t know. She’s wearing a dress, but she was wearing the same thing at my house.”
“What kind of woman makes a guy what we’re calling soup and then meets up with another dude?”
Much as I didn’t want to be fair, in this instance I had to be. “You can’t mock the borscht. It was really good.”
― Roommaid
“I’m at Yuto’s and she’s here and it looks like she may be on a date.”
“Oooh.” She sounded way too excited. “How does she look?”
Like she always did? The same way she had when she’d been in my apartment earlier? “Like a shark wearing a human costume? Gorgeous but deadly? And she makes me feel inadequate in every way that a woman can possibly feel inadequate?”
“Well, that’s not true. You’re not a mother yet and that’s going to be a whole new level of inadequacies. I meant, is she dressed up?”
“I don’t know. She’s wearing a dress, but she was wearing the same thing at my house.”
“What kind of woman makes a guy what we’re calling soup and then meets up with another dude?”
Much as I didn’t want to be fair, in this instance I had to be. “You can’t mock the borscht. It was really good.”
― Roommaid
“I scrubbed at the mirror harder and wondered how Tyler cleaned the one in his bathroom.
Or if he had someone else do it for him.
Someone like Oksana.
“Oksana, Oksana, Oksana,” I muttered as I continued cleaning the mirror. It was weird to be so deeply jealous of someone I knew nothing about.
I had just finished up when I heard a noise. I figured it was Pigeon, but then she came in to sit on the floor next to my feet. She was whimpering.
Which meant . . . I went down the hallway and found Oksana in the kitchen.
I tried not to gasp. I’d chanted her name and had accidentally summoned her.
She had spread groceries all over the counter. A large pot sat on the stove, and I heard bubbles popping, as if something was boiling.
For all that was holy, I hoped it wasn’t a bunny. Whatever it was, it smelled a little like dirt and sulfur. Wasn’t that how brimstone was supposed to smell?
Maybe she was cooking up something for her good buddy, Satan.
“Hello.” I smiled and waved at her.
She had a cigarette hanging from her lower lip. She paused from cutting up a head of cabbage to glare at me and then resumed her cutting.
When it was obvious she wasn’t going to respond, I opted to be more direct. “What are you doing here?” Did somebody accidentally leave the gates of hell unlocked? I hoped I didn’t come across as too accusatory. I was genuinely bewildered to find her in my apartment again.
Her eyebrows went up, as if my question were stupid. “Cooking.”
“Oh. So, what are you, uh, making there?”
“Borscht.”
That was a kind of soup if I remembered correctly. “What do you use to make borscht?”
She glared at me again, obviously not in the mood to talk, and it kind of surprised me when she answered. She held the large knife she was using against her shoulder, making me feel the tiniest bit of fear. “Beets. Cabbage. Knucklebones. And other things.”
Knucklebones? Like . . . from people? What other animals had knuckles? This concerned me.
“Well, that sounds . . . great. Have fun. I’m going to go clean.” She so didn’t care what I was going to do. I wanted to ask her not to smoke because I was a big fan of my own lungs and breathing in general, but I didn’t know if I had the authority to say so.
I scampered away, trying not to think about how unfair it was that she not only looked that way but could cook, too. She’d probably never stick a cast-iron pan in the dishwasher.”
― Roommaid
Or if he had someone else do it for him.
Someone like Oksana.
“Oksana, Oksana, Oksana,” I muttered as I continued cleaning the mirror. It was weird to be so deeply jealous of someone I knew nothing about.
I had just finished up when I heard a noise. I figured it was Pigeon, but then she came in to sit on the floor next to my feet. She was whimpering.
Which meant . . . I went down the hallway and found Oksana in the kitchen.
I tried not to gasp. I’d chanted her name and had accidentally summoned her.
She had spread groceries all over the counter. A large pot sat on the stove, and I heard bubbles popping, as if something was boiling.
For all that was holy, I hoped it wasn’t a bunny. Whatever it was, it smelled a little like dirt and sulfur. Wasn’t that how brimstone was supposed to smell?
Maybe she was cooking up something for her good buddy, Satan.
“Hello.” I smiled and waved at her.
She had a cigarette hanging from her lower lip. She paused from cutting up a head of cabbage to glare at me and then resumed her cutting.
When it was obvious she wasn’t going to respond, I opted to be more direct. “What are you doing here?” Did somebody accidentally leave the gates of hell unlocked? I hoped I didn’t come across as too accusatory. I was genuinely bewildered to find her in my apartment again.
Her eyebrows went up, as if my question were stupid. “Cooking.”
“Oh. So, what are you, uh, making there?”
“Borscht.”
That was a kind of soup if I remembered correctly. “What do you use to make borscht?”
She glared at me again, obviously not in the mood to talk, and it kind of surprised me when she answered. She held the large knife she was using against her shoulder, making me feel the tiniest bit of fear. “Beets. Cabbage. Knucklebones. And other things.”
Knucklebones? Like . . . from people? What other animals had knuckles? This concerned me.
“Well, that sounds . . . great. Have fun. I’m going to go clean.” She so didn’t care what I was going to do. I wanted to ask her not to smoke because I was a big fan of my own lungs and breathing in general, but I didn’t know if I had the authority to say so.
I scampered away, trying not to think about how unfair it was that she not only looked that way but could cook, too. She’d probably never stick a cast-iron pan in the dishwasher.”
― Roommaid
“A few days later, I was hunting under the bathroom sink for a bottle of window cleaner. Which I had, in my naivete, assumed only cleaned windows. As per the label. While cleaning the mirror I’d been using the kitchen cleaner, which had falsely labeled itself as “all-purpose.” It was not all-purpose and made bathroom mirrors streaky. “Deceitful advertising,” I mumbled to myself.
Once I found the window cleaner, the internet recommended I not use paper towels but since this wasn’t 1996, we didn’t have any newspaper. I also highly doubted that Tyler had microfiber cloths.
The paper towels worked well enough. Which freed me up to indulge in one of my favorite pastimes: daydreaming about Tyler.
It was one of the few ways to make chores entertaining. I imagined him coming home, finding me in the bathroom, washing the mirror. He would sneak in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, nuzzling my neck. I’d lean against his brawny frame, loving the way he felt and how he touched me. Shivers of anticipation would rack my frame, making me rely on his strength to keep me upright.
Then he’d whisper words hotly against my ear. “There’s something I want to ask you.”
My rib cage would constrict my breathing, my heart speeding like a jackhammer. “Yes?”
“Madison . . . how did you get the mirror so clean?”
Ugh. It had been so long since I’d been with someone that even my fantasies were lame.”
― Roommaid
Once I found the window cleaner, the internet recommended I not use paper towels but since this wasn’t 1996, we didn’t have any newspaper. I also highly doubted that Tyler had microfiber cloths.
The paper towels worked well enough. Which freed me up to indulge in one of my favorite pastimes: daydreaming about Tyler.
It was one of the few ways to make chores entertaining. I imagined him coming home, finding me in the bathroom, washing the mirror. He would sneak in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, nuzzling my neck. I’d lean against his brawny frame, loving the way he felt and how he touched me. Shivers of anticipation would rack my frame, making me rely on his strength to keep me upright.
Then he’d whisper words hotly against my ear. “There’s something I want to ask you.”
My rib cage would constrict my breathing, my heart speeding like a jackhammer. “Yes?”
“Madison . . . how did you get the mirror so clean?”
Ugh. It had been so long since I’d been with someone that even my fantasies were lame.”
― Roommaid
“You know,” I told him, “Bitsie missed out. If she’d just auctioned off a dance with you, she would have raised all the money she needed.”
“Ha-ha.”
“I’m serious. You were unquestionably the belle of the ball tonight. Did you leave behind one of your shoes just in case?”
This time he did actually laugh. “I’m not trying to land a prince.”
“You’d be the only one.”
― Roommaid
“Ha-ha.”
“I’m serious. You were unquestionably the belle of the ball tonight. Did you leave behind one of your shoes just in case?”
This time he did actually laugh. “I’m not trying to land a prince.”
“You’d be the only one.”
― Roommaid
“Do you have any fun plans today?”
“I’m going to buy a car.” I couldn’t keep the glee out of my voice, and it made him smile. “I’ve never bought a car before. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“That does sound . . . well, I don’t know if fun’s the word I would use. Having the car is fun. Buying it usually not so much.”
“I’ve been adequately warned. And my friend Shay is supposed to be here in a few minutes. I’m hoping to get to the lot before it opens so I can get the car I want.” This was the dealer’s busiest day of the week and I was afraid the car would get sold. My phone buzzed with a text from Shay. “Speak of the devil.”
“Oh no,” I said.
“Everything okay?”
“Not really. Shay had to cancel. I’m going to try one of my other friends.” I called Delia and she didn’t pick up. Which was unlike her. I tried texting her and waited.
“No answer?” Tyler asked.
“She didn’t reply,” I confirmed, a sinking feeling settling in my stomach. “Which means I’m going to have to take an Uber to get to this dealership.” It wouldn’t be cheap.
“I can drive you.”
“What?” Had I heard him correctly?
“I can drive you,” he said, repeating his offer. “I don’t have much going on until later on this evening, so if you want, I can go with you.”
He’s not interested in you. He has a girlfriend who looks like a Russian Barbie come to life. He is just being your friend. Stop being so excited.
My pounding heart didn’t listen.
Something in my expression made him laugh. “Is that a yes?”
Um, obviously the answer was yes. Because I might have been a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them. It was, in fact, an overly enthusiastic “Yes!” It made him laugh again. So even if I was embarrassing myself, it was worth it to hear his reaction.
“From what I’ve read online, you’ll be even better backup than Shay,” I told him. “Because you’re a man. And you’re tall.” And hot.
Thankfully, my lips refrained from uttering that last part.
“You don’t know any other tall men?” he asked.
“We did discuss this as a friend group, and no, we didn’t have anybody else to ask that we thought might do it. Delia did offer to send along her giant cardboard cutout of Edward from Twilight, but I passed.”
“Good choice,” he said with a grin. “Are you ready to go?”
“Let me grab my purse.”
― Roommaid
“I’m going to buy a car.” I couldn’t keep the glee out of my voice, and it made him smile. “I’ve never bought a car before. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“That does sound . . . well, I don’t know if fun’s the word I would use. Having the car is fun. Buying it usually not so much.”
“I’ve been adequately warned. And my friend Shay is supposed to be here in a few minutes. I’m hoping to get to the lot before it opens so I can get the car I want.” This was the dealer’s busiest day of the week and I was afraid the car would get sold. My phone buzzed with a text from Shay. “Speak of the devil.”
“Oh no,” I said.
“Everything okay?”
“Not really. Shay had to cancel. I’m going to try one of my other friends.” I called Delia and she didn’t pick up. Which was unlike her. I tried texting her and waited.
“No answer?” Tyler asked.
“She didn’t reply,” I confirmed, a sinking feeling settling in my stomach. “Which means I’m going to have to take an Uber to get to this dealership.” It wouldn’t be cheap.
“I can drive you.”
“What?” Had I heard him correctly?
“I can drive you,” he said, repeating his offer. “I don’t have much going on until later on this evening, so if you want, I can go with you.”
He’s not interested in you. He has a girlfriend who looks like a Russian Barbie come to life. He is just being your friend. Stop being so excited.
My pounding heart didn’t listen.
Something in my expression made him laugh. “Is that a yes?”
Um, obviously the answer was yes. Because I might have been a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them. It was, in fact, an overly enthusiastic “Yes!” It made him laugh again. So even if I was embarrassing myself, it was worth it to hear his reaction.
“From what I’ve read online, you’ll be even better backup than Shay,” I told him. “Because you’re a man. And you’re tall.” And hot.
Thankfully, my lips refrained from uttering that last part.
“You don’t know any other tall men?” he asked.
“We did discuss this as a friend group, and no, we didn’t have anybody else to ask that we thought might do it. Delia did offer to send along her giant cardboard cutout of Edward from Twilight, but I passed.”
“Good choice,” he said with a grin. “Are you ready to go?”
“Let me grab my purse.”
― Roommaid
“Pigeon observed me silently as I took my pile to the stackable washer and dryer located next to my bathroom. I decided to do a rinse cycle and then wash them. I then grabbed my phone to figure out where I’d gone wrong. Turned out only dishwasher soap should go in the dishwasher. Which was different from dishwashing liquid. And there were also handy directions on how to clean soap out of a dishwasher when you used the wrong kind.
Feeling reassured that I wasn’t the only one who’d ever done this, I pulled all the dishes out of the dishwasher. When I got to the bottom rack, I noticed that the heavy pan I’d placed in there looked . . . rusted.
I finally gave in and called Shay. I explained what had happened, and after she stopped laughing she told me to send her a picture of the pan in question.
“You put his cast-iron pan in the dishwasher?” she shrieked when my text arrived.
“Is that bad?”
“So bad! I mean, there’s things you can do to try and fix it once you’ve rusted it up like that, but if you don’t want him to know . . .”
“I definitely don’t want him to know.” I’d been at his place for twenty-four hours and I was already destroying his property. This did not bode well.
“Then I think you’re better off buying him a new one. When you do, watch a video on how to take care of it. They’re not like regular pans.”
“Why would someone buy something you couldn’t put in a dishwasher?” I asked.
“Because it cooks certain foods so much better. It’s one of those things where if I have to explain it to you, you’re not going to get it. But time to replace that sucker. And make sure you season it.”
She hung up before I could ask her what seasoning it meant. Time to do more research.
I looked his pan up on Amazon. I gasped when I saw how much it cost. “Why would anyone spend this much on a pan that, I repeat, you cannot put in a dishwasher?”
Pigeon cocked her head at me.
I’d put a self-ban on online shopping mainly because American Express had invited me to stop using their card.
But desperate times and all that . . . I put the pan in my shopping cart and then entered my new address and my debit card information. The new pan was going to arrive in two days, which was plenty of time before Tyler was due back.
Pigeon had continued to study me, keeping her distance. Was it an improvement that she was choosing to hang around me?
“We just had our first adventure together,” I told her.”
― Roommaid
Feeling reassured that I wasn’t the only one who’d ever done this, I pulled all the dishes out of the dishwasher. When I got to the bottom rack, I noticed that the heavy pan I’d placed in there looked . . . rusted.
I finally gave in and called Shay. I explained what had happened, and after she stopped laughing she told me to send her a picture of the pan in question.
“You put his cast-iron pan in the dishwasher?” she shrieked when my text arrived.
“Is that bad?”
“So bad! I mean, there’s things you can do to try and fix it once you’ve rusted it up like that, but if you don’t want him to know . . .”
“I definitely don’t want him to know.” I’d been at his place for twenty-four hours and I was already destroying his property. This did not bode well.
“Then I think you’re better off buying him a new one. When you do, watch a video on how to take care of it. They’re not like regular pans.”
“Why would someone buy something you couldn’t put in a dishwasher?” I asked.
“Because it cooks certain foods so much better. It’s one of those things where if I have to explain it to you, you’re not going to get it. But time to replace that sucker. And make sure you season it.”
She hung up before I could ask her what seasoning it meant. Time to do more research.
I looked his pan up on Amazon. I gasped when I saw how much it cost. “Why would anyone spend this much on a pan that, I repeat, you cannot put in a dishwasher?”
Pigeon cocked her head at me.
I’d put a self-ban on online shopping mainly because American Express had invited me to stop using their card.
But desperate times and all that . . . I put the pan in my shopping cart and then entered my new address and my debit card information. The new pan was going to arrive in two days, which was plenty of time before Tyler was due back.
Pigeon had continued to study me, keeping her distance. Was it an improvement that she was choosing to hang around me?
“We just had our first adventure together,” I told her.”
― Roommaid
“Have you always had a dog?” I asked. I so wanted to know everything about him.
“No, Pigeon’s my first pet.”
“And you didn’t consider getting any other kind? Like a cat?”
“A cat?” he scoffed. “Never. I’m not bringing home some sociopath intent on luring you into a false sense of security before they eat your face.”
That made me laugh. “Some cats are nice and affectionate.” Not that I had any firsthand knowledge, but it had to be true.
“Decoys. They’ve never forgotten that they used to be worshipped as gods. You’ll never see dogs planning on destroying humankind. Which is one of the reasons I adopted Pigeon.”
“She won’t eat your face?”
He smiled. “I’m pretty sure she’s not plotting my demise. And it’s nice to love somebody who doesn’t want anything in return.”
Whoa, that sounded deep and like an area that was obviously none of my business but I still wanted to ask too many questions about.
Before I could figure out what to say in response, he said, “While we’re on the topic of animals and their devious plans, something you should definitely know about Pidge is that she loves shoes. And by love, I mean she chews them into tiny pieces until they no longer resemble shoes. So you always want to keep your closet door shut.”
“Got it. She won’t come for my face, but she will for my shoes.” Pigeon and I were going to have issues if she chewed up my shoes. I’d been forced to sell off most of my bags and footwear. The shoes I had now were very inexpensive and I wasn’t emotionally attached to them, but I didn’t have enough money to buy more cheap shoes.”
― Roommaid
“No, Pigeon’s my first pet.”
“And you didn’t consider getting any other kind? Like a cat?”
“A cat?” he scoffed. “Never. I’m not bringing home some sociopath intent on luring you into a false sense of security before they eat your face.”
That made me laugh. “Some cats are nice and affectionate.” Not that I had any firsthand knowledge, but it had to be true.
“Decoys. They’ve never forgotten that they used to be worshipped as gods. You’ll never see dogs planning on destroying humankind. Which is one of the reasons I adopted Pigeon.”
“She won’t eat your face?”
He smiled. “I’m pretty sure she’s not plotting my demise. And it’s nice to love somebody who doesn’t want anything in return.”
Whoa, that sounded deep and like an area that was obviously none of my business but I still wanted to ask too many questions about.
Before I could figure out what to say in response, he said, “While we’re on the topic of animals and their devious plans, something you should definitely know about Pidge is that she loves shoes. And by love, I mean she chews them into tiny pieces until they no longer resemble shoes. So you always want to keep your closet door shut.”
“Got it. She won’t come for my face, but she will for my shoes.” Pigeon and I were going to have issues if she chewed up my shoes. I’d been forced to sell off most of my bags and footwear. The shoes I had now were very inexpensive and I wasn’t emotionally attached to them, but I didn’t have enough money to buy more cheap shoes.”
― Roommaid
“I forgot to say anything earlier, but I want you to be comfortable here. Please feel free to decorate however you want or put up pictures of your family or whatever.”
“Oh no, they don’t show up on film.” ”
― Roommaid
“Oh no, they don’t show up on film.” ”
― Roommaid
“You are like a human granola bar,” Shay told her. “You’re too nice.”
“That’s kind of a weird insult”
― Roommaid
“That’s kind of a weird insult”
― Roommaid
“We found the guest bedroom and I sat on the edge of the queen-size bed, bouncing up and down a little to test the comfort level. Definitely better than Shay’s couch.
The room had been decorated in a mixture of blues and grays that I found soothing. I could easily live in this room. My aunt was saying something about hand-scraped hardwoods and Italian marble, but I ran over to check out the large walk-in closet. I practically wept with joy at the thought of not having to live out of my suitcases any longer.
It was in that moment that I realized I would do whatever I had to do to become Tyler’s roommate. He wanted me to take care of his dog? I’d turn into Dr. Dolittle. He needed a clean home? Then I’d be . . . Marie Kondo? No, that was organizational stuff. Mary Poppins? She was the kid expert. Martha Stewart? More on the entertaining side of things.
An image and a name flashed in my mind. Mr. Clean! I would be Mr. / Dr. Clean-Dolittle. Practically perfect in every way.”
― Roommaid
The room had been decorated in a mixture of blues and grays that I found soothing. I could easily live in this room. My aunt was saying something about hand-scraped hardwoods and Italian marble, but I ran over to check out the large walk-in closet. I practically wept with joy at the thought of not having to live out of my suitcases any longer.
It was in that moment that I realized I would do whatever I had to do to become Tyler’s roommate. He wanted me to take care of his dog? I’d turn into Dr. Dolittle. He needed a clean home? Then I’d be . . . Marie Kondo? No, that was organizational stuff. Mary Poppins? She was the kid expert. Martha Stewart? More on the entertaining side of things.
An image and a name flashed in my mind. Mr. Clean! I would be Mr. / Dr. Clean-Dolittle. Practically perfect in every way.”
― Roommaid
