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7

If a Woman is Really the Answer We Need

Curled in the crumbled sheets, arm stretched long towards the two brothers currently staring. Yes, it was a new day with new problems and new concerns. No, it wasn't a new day. It was the day. The last day for the Project Mayhem starters. Three days have already gone by and not without some trouble.

Tyler, a discouraged look upon his morning face, collapsed onto the bed, unknowingly bounced twice before landing. Just missing my arm if I hadn't coiled it away of course. Jack, in the same weariness, moved further into his room and purposely used this time to look over my bandages. Which were quite worn. We haven't gotten new supplies for awhile. His clammy hands began tending to the straps, undoing the night's work. Must have been an interesting experience because they were nearly tangled around each toe and pulled hard enough to cut off circulation.

Tyler's cerulean gaze pondered over my own ravishing morning appearance until asking. "Don't you want to know why your alarm's been personified?" morning breath seems to be stronger than usual today.

"No," I covered my mouth with the sheet. Unfortunately I cared about social hygiene. "I usually just go with this sort of thing. But if my real clock says it's super early, you're in big trouble."

"It's past noon," Jack set the last strap before pulling snug. "Does that feel better?"

I pulled myself up, elbows creasing the mattress, hands scraping against the few exposed springs. "Yea it does," the skin could breathe again. "I'm not too sure how they ended up like that but you fixed it perfectly."

He raised a brow before smiling politely. "I have sort of an idea."

"How?"

"You had one of your dreams but it was more violent. Don't know what was happening but it got you pretty riled up."

"What? What dreams?" Tyler sat up as well.

"It was that bad? It's never been that bad."

"I even had to keep you from falling off but the bandages were doing their own thing."

"Falling off?" an embarrassed chuckle. "Must have been an eventful night."

"So I'm not the only one with vivid dreams," Tyler grabbed my pillow, tucked it beneath his chin, leaned his cheek into its corner and winked boyishly.

Took awhile to grasp the hinting but when I did. "Ugh Tyler! Come on, do you seriously think I would-"

"You can't always control your subconscious-"

"Oh please. If I had a subconscious like that, I would need a set of balls and a very active, very neglected imagination. Men have those dreams rarely do women-"

"What? No, Jack's had them on occasions so you can't limit this to gender. It's unfair to the sensitive types," he looked to his brother, joking charm getting nowhere. Jack had been preoccupied since his part of the conversation ended.

He stood by the window, looking upon our glorious neighborhood with a tired gaze. The porch specifically. "Are you sure about these sleeping arrangements?"

Tyler kept the pillow as he strut to the window. "Why do you think I got all that wood? Bunk beds hermano, bunk beds. They're almost done anyway," Jack merely nodded, accepting the idea without questioning more.

I wish I could say the same.

What's going to happen when they do complete these last hours? These last few hours. Their three days went faster than expected. Not the best days either. Am I going to be responsible for not just these two but the Mayhem crew as well? Sure they're capable of taking care of themselves but this is going to be a free live-in health clinic right above them. They haven't taken advantage before and they sure won't now since they know for sure I live with the founders. But still it's just the what-ifs getting to me. I can barely keep myself in a healthy status. And what about the food? We never have food here. Those are six grown men out there. Men. The only woman with a house full of men I barely know. Maybe Tyler should have spent more time thinking this through. And who's going to now?

Might as well have one question hanging before I leave them for the bathroom. Since yesterday wasn't a good cleaning at all. And this will definitely be the last day for clean water. Unless Tyler's somehow managed to pay the bill with his last paycheck from the restaurant. And Jack's career, let's just say it's not exactly on solid ground. His boss had him leave yesterday for blood stains left on his shirt. Washing machine's still broken.

"You want them to sleep on the bunks beds made from the wood that can't get wet in the basement? The target zone for rain?" it was a rhetorical question. "Uh huh." Rhetorical questions are allowed. With all those internal ones still swimming, there was room for this logical sliver.

They both managed to drag their attention away from the apprentices below and watch me waddle towards the bathroom. Must have been a sight because once I looked in the mirror, I felt a sudden rush of heat rise to my cheeks. They've seen what I look like in the mornings but this, this was a tad bit different. All that moving around last night did some damage. There's the ratty hair tangled in a giant mess of black twigs but then there's this: the tank top. Twisted to the side nearly revealing the deathly white skin where a bra's supposed to be. I try not to sleep in suffocating devices. Nothing important was exposed just that hinting tint of drastic color. But they saw and they knew what they were seeing.

. . .

There's been a constant banging via Tyler putting the final touches on the bunks. He obviously ignored my input earlier with the wetness and wood. And after fixing the embarrassing morning display, I've been sitting here bunched up against Jack. It seems since he saw the so called whiteness, he's been more comfortable with being close. Closer than usual.

He was in his pajamas consisting of a wife beater aka man tank and white boxers. And I was in something of a similar attire. Alright, so I'm wearing the exact same thing. And yes, it was Tyler's pair. The majority of my clothes were dirty so I stole one of his clean ones. The color was different though. Black tank, black boxers.

Maybe I should use this. He's calm, affectionate and pretty comfortable in this position. And I need to get this out now or it'll never happen.

"Jack."

"Yea?" He looked up from his stale cheerios almost too quickly. Like he was waiting impatiently for me to say something first.

"I need to tell you- To ask you something," I leaned further back, arms crossed, legs stretched beneath the table, toes curling around the leg of another chair. Start with a more laughable intro for both parties. "Sometimes I feel like I have to remind you guys what my gender is and you know, all the aspects that come with it."

"Are you serious? Do you have any idea just how much I have to remind myself not to think of your gender?"

Now get into the serious stuff. "It's been almost four months," and yes I'm avoiding his previous inquiring. For a reason. "Since I've moved here. And there's something that's been bothering me. No, not bothering, more like pondering." Took a moment for him to digest. Just come out with it. "When are you guys going to set up a room of my own?" Good, that's enough. This one question is enough. But I didn't listen, I had to be myself and stick sarcasm in. "You know, like a room without testosterone overlooking estrogen?" Sarcasm won't help relieve anything.

And it didn't.

He's not taking this well at all. Before he could say what he would probably need to hold back, I said. "I'm just saying that yes, I am a woman and with me being a woman, comes some privacy aspects. Boundaries really. Not drastic changes, I don't want to change anything. Just to have my own space. I want to have time for myself now and then." Too fast. You're talking way too fast. But he got the picture.

And took it wrong.

"Alright," he set his spoon into the plastic-ware with extra care as if he was planning to throw it all into the beckoning wall or plunge his fist into it. His previous mood I had so relied on maintaining is gone. "Since this is important to you, I'll find another room and clear it out." He's losing patience and fast. I've hit a very sensitive subject for him and he's going to show just how much it is.

I moved. Possibly too soon. He kept his eyes to the bowl as I did so.

Gliding the walls before leaning into a decaying strip of wallpaper, Jack had moved the same, only adjacent mine. "Does that sound alright to you?"

Those dark circles have almost turned black. Not gray or purple but black. Like a character Tim Burton would create and by this particular man and situation: Sweeney Todd would be all but perfect to match.

Speak with caution. "Yes." One word, one wrongful mistake. Beneath his shaded gaze came an obvious discontent: a twitch.

I've hurt him.

"Good," there it is. He lost. "And while I'm at it, why don't I write you something to go along with this new change. It is what I'm good at: writing. Why not use the only talent I have to make you an artistic poster. A big poster that says Devyn's Own Personal Room of Use: Fuck Off Jack. That would say it all wouldn't it? We could always ask Tyler his thoughts. We wouldn't want him to miss out on this decisive discussion. Oh wait look," he slapped his hand onto the counter. Dragging something beneath before flipping it out. "A permanent marker! God this is perfect isn't it? Now I can add Tyler's name right next to yours."

He threw it across the room and kicked one of the chairs so hard as to crack its legs in half from the table collision. All the while, I stood very still and watched.

I had gone too far.

Yes, it was an understandable subject between different roommate sexes. I needed my own room since the beginning but why did it take this long to say it? This is why.

I left him there, standing in the kitchen with a slash of black ink across his palm. The top was missing. He only looked to the chair, wouldn't dare look up. He lost that separation between Tyler and himself.

That unpredictable nature he's always objected. The long build up of steam blown into particles. It was healthy to do so, I know that, but all the same when it's directed to you. It hurts. You're the one who brought it on, not him. Some would say he overreacted, that some of what Tyler says about Jack's sensitive side was true, but it's not. This wasn't an overreaction, this was completely reasonable for him to act like this. I'm surprised it hasn't happened sooner.

Where else could I go?

It was going to infuriate him more but I couldn't help it. It's sort of like the same concept when one family member yells at you, you scurry to the closest one who either has no idea what had just happened or would comfort you no matter what you did.

Tyler wasn't either of those but I went to him anyway.

They were done. Three bunk beds lined the gray brick walls. Six beds total. Tyler leaned between two of them, dropping the hammer by his feet. As soon as it thumped, I plopped down on one of the steps. He looked just when Jack did before our conversation started. Let's hope this doesn't turn out the same.

"Did you guys finally have it out from all that tension building up this past week? It sounded like you beat him up pretty good up there. I won't say he deserved it but with his so called 'career break' with the blood stain incident, maybe slapping him around would do some good."

It won't. This is Tyler.

"Career break," snorts louder than he probably wanted. "Laid off is more like it. Maybe he should focus more on getting laid on. What do you say Devyn, want to help me find our boy a quick-one?"

"Tyler-"

"Alright, so maybe he's more of a long-term kind of guy. Maybe a quick-one's asking too much. How about-"

"Tyler!"

"What?"

"I want to stay with you for awhile."

He stood straighter, an impressed brow raise following. "Excuse me?"

"Don't make this unpleasant. It's already harder than you'd usually strive for," he kicked the hammer aside and sprawled himself across the step before mine. "I know you heard what Jack and I were talking about. You also know that the chance of you guys giving me my own room, physically being separate from your rooms, would be less than none. So I'm asking you, even though I already know the answer-"

"Alright... You know I can't resist your savvy persuasive skills-"

"I'm not asking that-"

"I'm not answering that. You're staying with me, this we established. So yes, I will get your stuff and be oh so cryptic with the whole thing so Jack doesn't go ballistic when he finds out. You'll tell him in your own debonair way," he slapped my good foot and squeezed a little too enthusiastically.

"Don't look so proud of yourself Tyler. This isn't what you think-"

"Oh please, it's exactly what I think. Just be happy it's me you're stuck with now and not, well you know," he hopped on his feet, taking me with him. "I was planning on setting you up with me anyway before Mayhem proceeds. Those may be club members out there but they're still men. And believe it or not I trust myself with Devyn duty more than I do Jack." We reached the top. "So before we proceed with said plans, we have a little announcement to make with our applicants outside. An initiation rather."

A/N

Yesh like I said. They stick with me. Can you blame? Did you like? Do you crave more?