'You ask me that like I already know.' Matthew so wanted to snap at her but held his tongue. He'd purposefully been avoiding the question entirely; thinking of an alternative to teaching meant, to him, that he'd failed. For the last decade, he'd devoted himself to teaching, in the hopes of allowing some other poor soul to avoid what he had gone through. He was already such a burden on her and Toby, it seemed like the least he could do was get a job. "I..." he began, leaning back on the counter, "...I don't think –"
The door swung opened again. Toby, dusted with dirt from head to toe, danced into the room, plopping down a plant with stiff leaves pointing from the pot on the counter. Swinging his arms over his head, he announced, with a triumphant smile, "We have Sansevieria trifasciata! Cleaner air for all!" He kicked the door closed.
"Did you just get dirt on my computer?" Liza snapped, snatching up her old computer, examining it.
"You don't want clean air, Liza?" he asked, tipping the stiff-leafed plant back into his arms and into her face.
Liza swatted the pot away from her and snapped back, "Go away. I need to do things." She turned around to her computer.
"L-let me water that for you," Matthew whispered, stepping forward, his hands outstretched for the plastic pot.
"Stop." Toby pointed his finger into his roommate's forehead. "What's wrong?" When Matthew didn't answer, finger still pressed to his head, he asked Liza, "What's wrong with him?"
"Audrey fucking Culpepper," Liza murmured on cue. "What else is ever wrong with him?"
Toby moved the plant to the side and leaned against the counter. He put a fist on his hip and sighed. "Really? Y-you said the interview yesterday went great."
Matthew opened his mouth and promptly closed it. He wished he could swallow his tongue. That would actually be easier than having this conversation. 'Dying seems like the easier option than finding an actual job, apparently.'
"What happened?" Toby asked.
"Audrey fucking Culpepper," Liza enunciated, turning to him. "Oh my God, are you normally this slow, or today are you just fucking special?"
In response, Toby pulled off his shirt and threw it at her. "What was that? You wanted my dirt-covered shirt that smells like B.O.?"
Throwing it off her, Liza gathered up her things and turned for her room. "Disgusting pig. I need to work."
"Then go to the library, Liza."
"Says the person who's barely paying rent!"
As soon as her bedroom door closed, Toby turned to Matthew and whispered, "She's fun."
"Oh my God," he sighed. "Whatever the hell that is, it's so exhausting to watch."
"Don't find someone you can argue with like that someday," said Toby, smiling as he patted Matthew's shoulder. "Kill me if I find someone like that."
Matthew stepped forward, swiping the plant from the counter. "If I didn't know any better, I would've assumed you liked her."
Toby opened his mouth, a throaty sound of disgust oozing off his tongue. "How can you say that to me? After everything we've been through?" He snatched the plant from Matthew's grip. "No trifasciata for you." Plopping himself down in one of the empty counter seats, he muttered, "Clean air for you, though."
Matthew rubbed his hands over his face. "...saying 'it was bad' seemed like a waste of breath at this point." He wrapped his hands around the plant's pot and pried it away from Toby's hands. "Name, like, four times where I didn't have this angry, gut-wrenching feeling after an interview where her name came up somehow."
Toby sighed again, frowning. "I'm sorry. It's...I know how bad you want to work."
"I'm doing nothing," he muttered, plopping the stiff leafed plant on the small kitchen windowsill, alongside two smaller plants Toby had swiped from work. Matthew returned to putting the dry goods away. "Like, at this point, I don't care if they're paying me in food scraps from the cafeteria. I need something. It's, it's my job to find something. Like you guys."
"Matt, don't say that," he insisted.
"Why not?" he asked.
"Don't compare yourself to us. We got lucky. We got really lucky. The flower nursery was hiring, and she took that internship at her firm. We're freak cases compared to...everything."
Eyes dropping to the still-packed groceries, Matthew rubbed the plastic handle between his fingers.
"Matt."
He began putting away the remaining bags.
Toby turned in his barstool towards the living room, noting the three empty bags of popcorn and the countless snack bags and wrappers scattered around the coffee table. He sighed, scratching the back of his neck, and twisted back around towards Matthew. "Okay, I know you don't like me asking, but I know this is tearing you up. Considering how much you've had your heart set on being a teacher, what if you –"
"No," Matthew snapped back.
Toby grunted. "It's not the worst option, Matt."
"It kind of is," he hissed, putting away a bottle of soy sauce.
"I'm not asking you to find something completely unrelated to education. I'm asking you to consider something adjacent to it. Tutors make good money. So do some babysitters."
"No."
"Matt, don't do this."
He turned fully to face his roommate before announcing, "I am supposed to be a teacher!"
"I didn't say you couldn't," Toby spluttered, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "But you're beating yourself up for not being able to find anything. It's fucking painful to watch, and it isn't fair to you, either."
"I am supposed to be a teacher!" Matthew screamed again. "If I'm not a teacher, what was the point of working all those years?"
"I'm not saying you can't, but if Audrey's going to keep following you around, how long are you going to go until you're at a dead-end?" Running his hand up his face over his forehead, Toby sighed. "We have this talk, like, every month, Matt, and you always shoot me down because 'you guys have jobs' and 'I'm supposed to be a teacher.' That's great, and I know you think that, but how long are you going to do this until you – you – !"
"What?"
Toby bit his lip.
"Fuck you."
"You, you were in a dark place after Audrey – "
Something in Matthew's stomach shriveled up.
" – and you weren't taking care of yourself – "
He so desperately wanted his bag of popcorn, or even his gum. "Stop it."
"Come on, Matt. Please, just consider it. I don – I don't want to see you there again. You're, just –" He gestured to the mess in the living room. "You only do this when you're being hard on yourself again. Have you been chewing the gum?"
"Yes."
"Then explain you're gorging on every snack we have."
"Then give me back my cigarettes."
"Not until they come up with a less-destructive cigarette."
Matthew clenched his teeth, glaring. He returned to putting away the groceries. "Could always get more," he muttered.
"You wouldn't," Toby sighed.
"I could."
"You wouldn't." When Matt met his friend's gaze again, he finished, "Because you promised me you'd try."
He turned away again, finishing another bag of groceries before moving onto the final one. His eyes burned. Matthew gritted his teeth.
"...did Liza tell you to do that?"
"No."
The bar stood slid backward on the floor. "She can do it herself."
"They need to be put away, Toby."
"I'll do it, then."
"I'm already doing it."
"Matt."
"I'm used to it."
"Yeah, well, I'm asking you to stop."
He didn't.
Toby sighed. "Fine. Fine. But please consider it? Friend to friend?"
"Who asked you?" Matthew found himself saying, only to be appalled at himself.
Frowning, Toby pursed his lips. "'Middle school friends' privilege. Please. Consider it?"
'I'd rather go crawling back to Mom and Dad on my stomach over hot coals.' Matthew clenched his jaw and fiddled with his fingers. He couldn't admit a failure like this. Matthew frowned the longer the question of 'What are you going to do?' floated through his head, like a nagging parent reminding an impatient child to clean their room. Finally sighing, Matthew whispered, "I'll think about it."
Toby leaned back in the chair, studying Matthew intently. Smirking, he muttered back, "...well, I hope you seriously consider it." Standing up, he announced, "Taking a rinse-off."
As soon as the bathroom door had closed, Liza swung open her bedroom door and reclaimed her spot, plopping down her laptop and papers on the counter. "Okay, so, I've been doing some research on nanny salaries and responsibilities, because –"
Matthew sighed. "Liza, don't –"
"– Toby asking you, while sweet, is really effeminate and emotional and hard facts are more interesting in an argument."
"Liza –"
"Nannies can make up to twenty dollars an hour, especially if you have more than one kid to look after."
Matthew wiped his forehead. "Okay, gr –"
"Average pay, before taxes, can be upwards of 30 to 40k. You can get a good nest egg going, build some credit –"
"Liza."
She blinked, glancing up at him.
"I can figure it out on my own."
Liza stared, her eyes wide. She points to them, frowning. "Look me in my eyes, Matt. Look, look into my eyes."
Matthew cocked his head to the side, perplexed. "If you're going to insult me more, or call me a 'gay ass', I'm going to hit you."
"There's the Matt I like," she said, smirking. "I was scared for a second. Thought you were turning into another Toby. We don't need another woman menstruating around this fucking apartment."
"Oh my God. Liza."
She hummed, shrugging her shoulders. "What, I can't do low-blows? That's Toby's expertise? You sick monster."
Leaning against the counter, Matthew took in a slow breath and asked, "Well, at least, could you be a little less abrasive with me?"
"No. Actually not," she replied. "I met you depressed and driven after you dumped Audrey. I like your drive, and your passion, and I'm not going to treat you any less because you're having an off day." Liza spread out her paperwork on the countertop and returned to typing. "Oh, I've also already sent you everything I've found."
Matthew sighed, the sound long and clearly draining. "...great."
At that moment, Toby unlocked the door, rubbing his hair furiously with a beach towel, noticeably cleaner.
Swallowing back his nerves, Matthew studied the countertop. He grumbled, tracing his fingers over the tile's grout. His eyes narrowed.