Two days later, Rodger was gone. The apartment was empty, at least his side. Gordie was alone. Even though Rodger was barely noticeable, now it was rather sad and dreary, lonely in the little apartment. Today, after his finals, Gordie was to work in the bookstore. He needed to earn his keep, to pay for the necessities. Hopefully the new roommate would be able to help out a little bit. Rodger did, but he was cheap, and Gordie needed someone who wasn't as stingy or greedy.

When he looked at the door before he left, Gordie was mad. The name plates were gone.

"Dammit, I'm gonna have to bitch to housing later."

—

Gordie went to housing and saw Michelle working the desk. "Hey you, what happened to my name plate?"

Michelle handed him one. Gordie wondered where the other one was.

"It's coming in the mail. Your new roomie should be moving in today. That's all I know." Michelle said abruptly. "Trevor told me, but all I know is it's a guy." Michelle picked her hair and looked at the clock. 5:45. If Gordie left at 6, she could close (Trevor, her coworker, was in the back, promising to close for her, since she covered for him the other day) and grab her bag and head to the airport right before Gordie could find out what she did.

Gordie smiled, "Oh ok, well thats cool. Whats the guy's name?"

Trevor shouted from the back, "I think it's Mitchell?"

Gordie picked up his bag, "Ok, well, I'm out Michelle, I hope everything goes well and you have a great time in the city with your folks."

Michelle waved as he exited the building.

Trevor laughed and said "Putting him with Chambers isn't a great idea, I checked, they came from the same town, Castle Rock, no? Are they enemies? This why the secrecy?"

Michelle grabbed her bag and smiled. "Something like that."

Trevor shuddered. "Well, if they fight or kill each other, it will be on you, you know. Lets lock up, I got to get on the road to Ottawa."

Michelle sighed and spoke under her breath. "Either they will make up or kill each other. If anyones doing any killing, it's Gordie."

—

Gordie got home.

He was tired. He had a long day. His feet hurt. His hair was messed up from the wind blowing. It was cold, and the warmth of his bed was what Gordie needed right now. Seeing Chris first at the store, and at the bar, so much made it worse (No it didn't). Tomorrow was Saturday. No class. No work. New roomie, but Gordie didn't care, hopefully, the new roommate would leave Gordie alone enough so he could relax.

He unlocked the door. But it was already unlocked.

"Hello." Gordie yelled into the darkness.

A figure crept out of the dark hallway.

And with that, Gordie's eyes got wide.

"OH Fuck me again!"

He turned on the light. Chris Chambers stood there in his boxers and nothing else.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Chris said "I used to a lot. I miss those days." And then quickly he sprinted back to his room. Gordie blushed. He caught a glimpse of something he used to like to play with often.

Gordie dropped his bag and stomped to his room.

It was gonna be a long fuckin night wasnt it?

As he shut his door, all he could muster was "Fuckin' Michelle!"

—

The first day, Gordie woke up at 8am. He was tired. He had a nightmare that Michelle set Chris up as his roommate.

He looked up from his bed. The green comforter that had a million memories on it, shining verdant, with patches of green cloth. Gordie never wanted to throw it out, even if his mom thought it was ratty.

Gordie walked out to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee. He didn't like it all that much, but he needed to stay up. He planned to catch a monster double feature at the Regal. Dracula: Prince of Darkness with Christopher Lee and a Godzilla monster picture. He liked those.

He flashed on a memory.

Chris and him walking on a movie date (no one but them knew it was a date) at the Rialto in Castle Rock as kids. They went to see Mothra, Gordie and Chris loved the movie. Gordie loved the little twins singing the melody as Mothra destroyed Tokyo. Chris was pissed when the poor natives were killed by the evil men to kidnap the little girls. They came out of the theater cheering because Mothra got to go home and didn't die in the end.

Gordie loved how realistic it looked, with the miniatures and how the girls looked real tiny compared to people. Chris said he didn't like those pictures, because it was all rubber. But he went with Gordie anyway. Gordie smiled ear to ear. They always went to pictures that the other didn't like, such as the war movies, Chris loved them. Gordie didn't like them at all. It was give and take.

I wonder if he loved me then?

Suddenly, the door to the other bedroom swung open. In a long sleeve burgundy shirt and black jeans, Chris came out. He looked nice for home, but his bare feet gave away that he wasn't going anywhere. Chris plopped on the couch turning on the TV. Donna Reed was on the TV, it was the episode where Shelley Fabares sang "Johnny Angel." Somehow, it all made Gordie a little surly.

"Hey Gord, morning." Chris said, waving backward toward him. Gordie walked to the couch and sat down next to him. The two were sitting far apart from each other.

"So, here? My roommate? You?" Gordie asked. "Yeah, what's the issue?" Chris said, looking at him curiously biting his lip.

"Issue? Issue? Don't you remember what you did? To me?" Gordie yelled, jumping off the couch, with arms wide open, mad as hell.

"It was your friend, the black girl, who suggested it." Chris said, nonplussed.

"OH you are both real assholes!" Gordie yelled, grabbing his bag from where he left it by the couch, walked into his room, and slammed the door.

—

The rest of that first day was tense. Gordie would poke his head out of the door and looked around. If Chris was in the living, he would shut the door, unless he wanted a drink or use the restroom.

Chris got tired of his acting like a turtle, so he grabbed his coat and walked out the door. Whatever the town had, it was better than living with someone who was reviled by him.

Gordie sat in his bed, reading Proust's In Search of Lost Time.

His pajamas were satin purple. And his comforter. He couldn't let go of it.

The guy in the other room had been underneath this beautiful green emerald comforter. He looked out the window and saw the moonlight.

He heard a knock at the door.

"May I come in?"

"No. No you may not. Please leave me alone."

"Fine. I will leave this at the door."

A minute later, Gordie got up. Proust wasn't that interesting anyway.

In front of his door, was a velvet red journal. It was dinged,, with cuts on it, and a broken lock. A note was on it.

"Sorry, my mom ruined it."

—-

Chris wasn't surprised. He lay on his bed, looking at the ceiling. He didn't have much, but he was happy. Listening to the radio, a song was playing "California Dreamin." At around 10:15. He heard a noise at his bedroom door.

At the door was a silver lockbox, key taped to it.

A note was on top. "I burned all the girls' notes."

Chris laughed. Of course you did, Gordie.

—-

The next morning, Chris got up late, at 11:15 am. He couldn't stop tossing and turning. He stepped out into the hallway, and saw no one. Gordie's door was open.

He saw a note taped to the door. "Gonna be out all day. FYI-Gordie"

"Anything to avoid me, huh, Gord?"

Chris figured that Gordie was still pissed off about him moving in. It was better than some cheap motel but living with him was gonna be hard. All he wanted to do was hug Gordie.

And remind him that he still loved him