PART 1

Chapter 1

The day after meeting Bob, House returned to meet the other residents of the house. They were all guys and he wondered briefly about this one girl, Bob, who could share living space with all of these guys. But she seemed perfectly at ease with her housemates and they didn't treat her any differently from the other guys.

They all sat in the living room and explained the rules of the house to him.

"This is a great place. It's only two blocks from the campus, so you don't have to pay for bus fare. It's got nice sized bedrooms, so you don't feel all cramped in. There's enough furniture here that we don't have to buy stuff. The rent's cheap. And if a couple of us want to stay for the summer, he gives us a break on the price. So all we have to do is not screw it up. No crazy parties, nothing that will get us thrown out. Anyone living here that doesn't follow the rules is out. Immediately. You don't like those rules, don't move in."

"I can live with that." House said.

"Okay, we'll need first month's rent before the semester is over. The landlord likes to get September's rent now and he'll keep the house for us."

"No problem. I'll have it for you next week."

"Good."

"And did you say I might be able to live her this summer?" House asked.

"You staying on campus?"

"Yeah, I'm taking some classes and working as an orderly at the hospital."

"Cool. Robbie's staying too. Doing an internship."

Bob gave him a thumbs up. He smiled at her.

And so, when the semester ended, House moved his stuff to his new quarters.

The house was old and not particularly attractive, but large, bright and roomy. There was a front porch, with a few beach chairs and old rocking chairs on it. The front door opened into the living room, which held a sofa, several chairs and a communal TV set and stereo. There was a dining room with an old scratched table and some mismatched chairs. It was used for study sessions as much as for meals. The kitchen was filled with old, but working appliances, a small table and four chairs. There was also a small den that had been turned into another bedroom. The kitchen led to a fairly large backyard.

The second floor held three bedrooms, but the large master bedroom had been subdivided into two rooms. The door to each bedroom locked and each resident was given a key. The third floor also held two bedrooms. One of these was House's room.

Like the other rooms in the house, it was fairly large and held a single bed, a dresser and a chair. When Bob showed it to him, she said, "You're free to bring your own fridge if you want, but no hot plate. Someone almost burned the place down once. What a shithead!"

House laughed. Bob had a mouth on her and didn't mind employing colorful language often.

"Comes from being raised in an all male home. There was no one there to tell the guys not to cuss, so they did. No one cared until I started using it at school. Teachers don't like it when you tell them to go fuck themselves."

House chuckled. "Yeah, I found that out – the hard way."

Bob smiled. "So then, my dad and my uncle explained to me that you have to clean up the language at school and other public places. Trouble was I didn't know which words weren't allowed. I needed Carlin's seven words you can't say. Except there were even more."

She shook her head. "The worse thing was people saying, 'a young lady shouldn't speak like that!' What kind of shit was that? What the fuck did I know about being a 'young lady'? What the hell did I care either?"

"It's that people expect you to be a certain thing because of your family, your name or, in your case, your sex. My dad's an officer in the Marines, so I'm supposed to be the clean cut, rah-rah type who follows the rules."

"And you aren't?" she asked.

"Fuck that."

"People expect you to be like your dad."

"Yep. My dad especially."

"Well, that sucks. Good thing about my dad? He didn't expect me to be anything. He and my uncle are auto mechanics. They have their own business. My cousins work there too. I could have joined them. I've helped out as a summer job. But I wanted to go to college. And my dad was okay with that. Said my mom would have been happy."

As they got to know each other, there were many conversations like this. Talking about their past and the things they had in common – which were a lot. They talked about their futures too. Or at least, the futures they hoped they would have.

House would have expected Bob to be majoring in something to do with sports or the sciences. She seemed so masculine, he pictured her in a masculine profession.

But to his surprise, her major was Art History.

"I've always loved art," she told him, "I can't draw worth a damn. But I still spent my free time at the art museum or wandering around art galleries."

"But what the hell can you do with a degree in Art History?"

"Work in a museum."

"Probably pays shit."

"Yep."

"Then why would you do it?"

"It's where I love being. I don't care about money. As long as I can eat and pay my rent, I don't need much money. I don't spend much on clothes. Mostly wear jeans or sweats."

"Won't you have to wear nicer clothes in a museum?"

"They usually have uniforms which they will supply."

"So you're going to college to be a museum tour guide?"

"Not just a tour guide. I could identify art, do some procurement. Things like that."

"Whatever floats your boat." He told her.

"So you're pre-med?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you want to be a doctor?"

He shrugged. "Just always did. Like you and the museum. I like science, I like puzzles and mysteries."

"I never thought of medicine as a mystery."

"It can be." He told her the story of the doctor in Japan that looked like the janitor.

"So are you going to dress like the janitor too?"

"Maybe. It doesn't matter. You only have to be the best and know the answers."

She stared at him for a few moments, then shook her head. "I don't. I just need to do a job that I enjoy."

"What about this internship you're doing?" he asked her.

"What about it?"

"What is it?"

"Working in a museum, dumbass, what else?"

"What will you be doing there?"

"Mostly back room stuff – unpacking, labeling, that kind of stuff."

"They paying you?"

"Yep."

"Cool."

House was surprised at how much he enjoyed Bob's company and how much they had in common. They both enjoyed sports – almost all of them. They liked sci-fi and action movies. They were smart and had very little time for stupid people.

House thought they had one more thing in common.

There were standing in line at the movies when two extremely pretty girls walked by.

"Wow." House said. "Now they are hot."

Bob shrugged. "I guess."

"They don't turn you on?"

She glared at him. "Why should they?"

House gave her a pointed look and raised his eyebrows.

"You asshole!" she said. "I'm not a lesbian. I like men. Granted, they mostly don't like me, but that's not the point."

"So you're saying you'd rather sleep with me than one of those hot chicks?"

"Yes. Well, not you, you're a dumbass freshman. But those of your gender."

From then on, Bob would point out hot women for him and he would find men for her. The only difference was that sometimes House would actually talk to the women, ask them out and occasionally score with them.

Bob would never talk to the guys.

When House asked her why, she grimaced. "Why do you think?

"If I knew why, I wouldn't ask."

"Have you looked at me? Guys don't exactly want to make it with someone who looks like their brother."

"Bullshit. There could be guys who…'

"Do you want to sleep with me?"

House was startled by the question. "What?"

"Am I speaking a foreign language that you don't know? Would you want to sleep with me?"

"No, but…"

"I rest my case."

"Just because I don't, doesn't mean that other guys wouldn't."

"You know me and presumably like me. And you'll sleep with almost anything."

"That's just it. We're friends, it would be weird for me. But someone else …"

"Would just want a piece of easy ass. Because I guarantee he wouldn't be blown away by my beauty or lithe figure. Nor would he be taken in by my feminine charms. The only guy who'd want to sleep with me has probably been in prison for ten years and hasn't had a woman, so any vagina would do."

House looked at her. She was partially right – men really wouldn't be attracted to her looks. But that was mostly because she did nothing to enhance them.

She was at least one hundred pounds overweight. But that wasn't a turn-off for all men. Some liked larger girls. But the rest of the package wasn't helping her. Her hair was a mousy brown, worn in a long shag which did nothing for her. She never wore make-up and didn't take any care with her skin, so there was acne on her face. Her wardrobe was atrocious and consisted mainly of sweat pants and t-shirts.

On the plus side, she had lovely hazel eyes and long eyelashes; nice straight teeth and a killer smile. Her smile made you feel like you'd been her best friend forever.

And despite her salty language, her personality was warm and friendly. She was a no nonsense, natural type person. She often called House on his cynicism and glum moods.

"Come on, asshole." She'd say. "Smile. Things aren't that bad."

"Yes, they are. My teachers are jerks, my boss at the hospital is a moron and all you do is spout platitudes at me."

"All I do is put up with your bad moods. You're lucky to have a friend who does that. Most people would tell you to go to hell."

"Why don't you?"

"Push me and I will."

They smiled at each other, comfortable in their budding friendship.