No Strings Attached

Chapter 4

My dad was right about it being nicer on the inside. The kitchen, although small, was beautifully decorated with a bunch of expensive-looking white cabinets and faux marble countertops, and pretty hickory wood flooring. I didn't expect it to be real, since marble was so costly, but it looked quite genuine until you touched it. There was a small island in the center with a stainless steel faucet and plenty of counter space. The gas stove worked very well with the other fixtures, and the dishwasher blended in with the cabinetry. I was appalled at the elegance, and immediately visited the ginormous refrigerator big enough for a family of seven. The dining area attached to the kitchen held an empty space for our own table, and a sliding glass door led outside to a balcony. It wasn't a very large space, but enough for a couple chairs and a small table to eat a snack or enjoy a good book while admiring the view of the town, where you could watch people go on with their day. I hadn't even seen the rest of the place yet, and I was already in love. Through the double hinge door you would enter the living room where I could already imagine our worn coffee brown leather couch going well with the off-white walls. Down a short hallway were four doors; two bedrooms on the right, and bathroom and a closet on the left.

"Which one do you want?" Dad asked me.

I checked them both out. They were both about the same size, but the one nearest the living room had a closet with a mirror as the door. I've always wanted one of those so I could actually see my entire outfit at once. Plus, if I wanted a snack in the middle of the night, I wouldn't have to sneak past my dad's room.

I sat on the floor of the bedroom with my legs crisscrossed. "I claim this one," I declared.

He smirked from the doorway. "Okay. Well, the movers should be here in a couple hours, so you can start figuring out where you want your bed and dresser situated." He left me to plan the layout.

There was a window on the far wall, so I wanted my desk underneath that because I liked to look outside when I do work and things. My mom always told me about how she had a pretty big room and she had her bed sticking out of a corner so there was a hiding place behind it where she would put pillows and cushions and read for hours on end. I wanted my bed to do the same, especially since my room was too small to do that in the old house. I decided my dresser could go against the wall on the left, leaving the entire right side of the room available for my bookshelf. Even with my diagonal bed arrangement there would still be a decent amount of space in the center. I grinned outwardly, satisfied with my decisions.

Our apartment wasn't big, and it was nothing special. It actually reminded me of the apartment the Ricardo's shared in I Love Lucy. But I knew that I would be happy here, and that my dad made the right choice by moving away, where we were always reminded of our mother. This way, nothing could make us randomly cry because we passed my mother's favorite shop, or we remembered when we saw her in the kitchen, making her signature grilled cheese sandwiches. We had a completely new start to our lives. And I was certain we were going to be happy.

Boy, was I wrong.

--

Just like my dad said, the movers were outside the apartment building within three hours. I spent most of that time grabbing the belongings we packed in the Subaru, playing games on my phone, or texting my Internet friend who lived in Kentucky and was really the only person my age that I could count on, even though this wonderful spawn of a human didn't identify with a certain gender and had bisexual tendencies – two things that general society really frowned upon.

My best friend's birth name was Kayla but preferred to be called Alex, a name that could be associated with either sex. Alex's parents disapproved of that way of life, and when they found out, they practically disowned their own child. They didn't talk much after the big fight, and Alex spent a lot of time in clubs, unfortunately, getting drunk and hooking up with horny people. Alex's life really sucked, and the poor fifteen year old had tried to commit suicide three times by the time I moved to Boston. It had been only a year and a half since Alex came out. Once I stole my dad's car and drove to Kentucky just to keep Alex from slitting the wrists God gave the awesome kid. I got in huge trouble, but it was worth it.