This past month or so has been literally interview after interview - between battling a pretty bad addiction, finding a place to stay and a full time job in not-so-Charming, California. Shit has been hard. Really hard - and I'm tired of sleeping on my dimwitted cousin's couch.
What brings me to Charming you might ask? Well, I'm the ripe age of 19, newly orphaned due to my parents untimely deaths (with any form of a support system). Now, before you feel bad for me, I would hardly call them parents. Yes, they put a roof over my head for the last eighteen and a half years but other than that they did nothing but expose me to drugs and low standards of living. I'm not thankful for their deaths but apart of me is ready to move on and away from drugs - which brings me here, 20 days sober of any drugs other than alcohol (working on it, but lets not get ahead of ourselves). To my cousin Scott's house, whom while extremely generous just doesn't have much to offer and between the smell of sweat, dirty balls and old pizza - I am more than ready to find a place to rest my own head, and am ready to unload all of my shit from the one thing I did inherit from them, a surprisingly not too beat up Suburban.
Oh my Suburban, how thankful I am for that piece of junk. Got me here all the way from Los Angeles, grabbing everything I could with my own two hands before being evicted by my parents shit head landlord. They seriously have no souls. There I am, mourning the loss of my fucking parents, sporting a fairly heavy withdrawal and I get a eviction notice on my door. I'm 19, I don't have that kind of bread. Plus, LA is fucking expensive. I could barely afford a closet there on my own, Charming will just have to do for now. After all, this is the family I've got left. Dirty or not, it will just have to do. I'm silently thanking the lord though that I have enough money saved from babysitting and selling dope to at least put myself up somewhere else until I've found something stable.
Which also brings me to my next thought, I need to get fucking ready. I'm supposed to meet some dude about a room I found on craigslist in twenty minutes and I am hardly presentable, clad only in a pair of cut off jean shorts and a tank top, my hair soaked from the shower Scott has so kindly let me use (I wear flip flops in that helpless pit, just an FYI). I don't bother doing my make up as I head towards the door, instead opting for my beat up old Converse, sliding them onto my feet as I grab my purse.
Now, before you think I'm a lunatic for meeting somebody off of Craigslist, my friends do it all the time and more often then not have had the best of luck. I guess, otherwise I may end up in a body bag, who knows. I used to meet shittier people on the corner looking for dime bags then this.
The car ride is short, my iPhone directs me to the small but quaint house in under ten minutes. Phew, I'm early. I pull down the sun visor, taking a moment to look myself over. My once emerald eyes now look dull and the bags clearly show its been a while since I've had a good night of sleep. I pull my strawberry blonde hair into a tight pony tail, trailing loosely in beach like waves down my back. I desperately need a trim, but in order to do that I need a job - which is something I certainly do not have. I calculate in my head the asking price this J. Teller wrote in email, six hundred dollars a month - utilities included. I have at least six thousand dollars saved, not to mention a few things I could sell in a pinch. So, I know I'd be able to get by, now just to convince this unknowing fool that I am worthy. I snap the visor back up, turning the ignition of my car off. It's getting dark out, the sun setting as I make my way towards the front door. Well, here goes nothing. Please don't be a serial killer, please don't wear my skin, I think to myself as I knock on the door, looking down at a few discarded cigarette butts. So what, they smoke? So do I. That isn't a deal breaker for me.
The door swings open after a moment and I'm suddenly at a loss for words, there is no way in hell I'm at the right house. This God standing in front of me can not possibly be resorting to Craigslist for a roommate, let alone anything. He's blonde, his hair slicked back. Eyes blue as the sky, facial hair scruffy but not unkempt, his attire is strange though, some kind of leather vest I've never seen before over a white T-shirt, dark denim jeans, super white Nikes on his feet... smile stricken over his beautiful face. Ugh. I can practically feel my jaw dropping to the floor as he extends his hand to me. When I don't take it immediately he waves a ring clad hand in front of my face, bringing me back to reality. "Hi, I'm Jax." He smiles confidently, once against extending his hand for me to shake.
"Rae." I barely breathe out, finally taking his hand into my own.
"You know, I was expecting a man by the name in the email... but I suppose you'll do." He chuckles, pulling his hand back from mine. I can't help but chuckle, "Come on in, let me show you around."
"I get that a lot." I say, following behind him. I shut the door for him, taking in the well kept living room. I'm pleasantly surprised that it doesn't resemble Scott's much messier home, in fact it reminds me a lot of my anal retentively clean room back in LA. He has the bare minimums, couch, TV, kitchen table, a few pictures on the walls, mostly abstract art... but its clean, and clean is exactly what I need.
"So, this is pretty much it. I keep shit clean. Honestly, I'm hardly ever here. Travel a lot with work. Just looking for somebody who can pay bills on time and make it ya know, feel like a real home. One that gets used and shit." Okay, so his vocabulary is pretty limited to the word shit but beggars can't be choosers and I'd much rather live with somebody clean and sexy then my dirty ass cousin. "Room comes furnished, it's pretty nice. My Ma helped me decorate, its kinda girly. Maybe you'll like that." He looks back at me for a moment before continuing down the hallway. "All I ask of you is to not go through my private shit and don't leave dirty dishes out cause I'm not really here to clean up after myself let alone somebody else."
"I completely understand." I finally pipe up, finding my voice. When he opens the door to what looks to be much larger than any room I've ever had, I can't help but grin. "Six hundred for all of this? Wow." I say, looking from the wooden dresser, to the night stands, to the large mirror placed strategically on the wall in front of the vanity. The bed also, made up perfectly, white metal frame - it must be king sized. "It's perfect." I sit down on the bed for a moment, before realizing how rude I must seem.
"So, how long you looking to rent for?" He chuckles, sitting down on the edge of the dresser.
"At least a year, if not more. I'm really looking for some stability."
"Stability is good." He nods, leaning back against the wall. "So, the rooms yours if you want it. I already checked the references you sent me, it all checked out. What do you think?"
I don't respond immediately but when I throw my body back against the base of the bed, I can't help but giggle. "I'm home!"