Broke Blondie

"You seem to be doing a good job taking care of the apartment yourself." I mumbled, looking towards her.

She looked around in confusion with her mouth full, before she swallowed. "Oh. No not really. I mean... call it fate, but my ex-girlfriend just moved out yesterday."

"Oh..." I said. Funny coincidence. "Why did she move out?" I asked, looking around the apartment in surprise. Who would pass on this? Until my eyes fell back on Kris, who just shrugged and said, "Don't know. It just... didn't work out."

I nodded, keeping my worries to myself. I would've understood if she needed to move out for some external reason, like landing a job that was faraway. But it looked like the girl maybe didn't pass on the apartment itself, but on the girl living in it.

We resumed eating in silence, until we finished. Kris grabbed her half-empty Coke and stood. "Let me show you the rest of the apartment." She gestured with her free hand around the mess on the table. "Clean this up okay," she said and walked to the kitchen.

"You..." I stuttered. "You got it."

She was a bit straightforward wasn't she. What was it, like, twenty minutes I'd been in the apartment? I mean, I knew what I was here for, just didn't expect for the first request/order to come this quick. Anyhow, I couldn't be that mad after having received a free dinner. Maybe she just wanted to make everything clear from the get-go. Cleaning after eating: Jenna's responsibility.

I got to my feet and did just that, grabbed the empty bags and followed her to the kitchen which was connected to the living room. It was equally amazing. Black granite counters and white cabinets, stainless steel appliances. I put the bag in the garbage as she showed me where everything was, then beckoned me to follow her into our room.

A bit surprised. I had let myself think that I'd be getting a room for myself. Not the case. It didn't matter that much. At least she wasn't going to make me sleep on the couch.

My excitement quickly dimmed when we walked in the bedroom. The fact that the room was spacious and had nice furniture was ruined by the fact that there was only one bed. It was a big master bed, but... there was still only one.

I didn't hide my disappointment this time. "Only one bed?" I asked.

She looked my way, blank expression on her face, and shrugged. "Yeah." As if there was nothing wrong with that.

Was she being dumb?

"Great." I nodded, giving her a sarcastic smile. "Guess I'll be sleeping on the couch then." I couldn't sleep next to a girl. Just couldn't.

"Oh no no no..." She rose a finger at me smiling. "It's a good couch. I like that couch you aren't sleeping on that couch; its center will sag and the covers will scuff. No."

Okay...... "So... what... I sleep with you in the bed."

Her eyebrow rose teasingly as she smiled. "Do you want to?" Question was normal. Her face wasn't. It made me blush. Something about this broad. If she wasn't my last resort, I'd have been out of here like ten minutes ago. She must've seen the puzzled look on my face, cause she shook her head slightly and said, "Anyway, I wouldn't recommend it to sleep beside me. I do karate in my sleep." She palm-struck the air before she sat at the edge of her bed.

"Jee." I widened my eyes sarcastically at her. "Looks like we're running out of options here Kris. Where did your roommate sleep?"

She patted the bed she sat on.

"She put up with the karate?" I asked.

"No," She giggled. "She slept at the foot of the bed."

My head instinctively leaned back. If she acted like there was nothing wrong with that I wasn't going to play along. Luckily, she didn't. "I know it's not ideal, but I don't want to cramp this room with another bed. And there's no way I'll put a mattress in the living room or something." She kicked her converse off then dragged herself up till her back rested against the headboard.

"It's okay." I brushed her off, "I'll sleep beside you."

"Sure?" her face wrinkled. "I'm telling you, you'll wake up a lot. What's wrong with sleeping here?" she patted the lower part of the matters with her socked feet.

I was sick of her pretending this was normal. Who knows, maybe it was normal for her, but it surely wasn't for me. While I could live with the fact that I wouldn't get my own room--as I was expecting--I surely couldn't live with sleeping at the feet of some 24-year-old girl like a fucking house pet. I just looked her in the eyes, and made sure my tone was firm and serious when I said, "No."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself."

I stood there for a second, looking around the room. It had a decent sized closet.

"This one is yours." She pointed to one of the doors. "I think your stuff will fit in."

"Great." I said, "I'll unpack later."

"Okay," She sighed. "Now that you're all caught up. I'd like to catch on some work." She said, arranging the cushions behind her and getting comfortable.

I nodded, then just stood there, not really knowing what to do. Do I just, resume living now.

"So..." She said, "Mi casa su casa." She smiled at me. "TV has Netflix if you like."

There's an idea. I nodded at her and walked towards the door.

"Emm... Jenna," She said before I was out of the room.

"Yeah?" I turned.

"Shoes go in the rack by the door."

I looked down to conform I had my shoes on, then got confused, then looked near the bed and got angry. She must've meant her shoes. Yep. The fact that this girl was helping me mattered less and less every time she opened her mouth. But there was still a pleasant air of friendliness between us, one that I didn't want to disturb for something so trivial. I grabbed the young snob's shoes and walked out the door.

"Bring me my tablet and phone from the living room on your way will you."

"Sure," I said through gritted teeth.

"Thanks." She said, loudly, as if she'd sensed the irritation in my voice and didn't like it.

I spent the reminder of the night on the couch watching Netflix. A show I used to watch was running, but I didn't really get to enjoy it, as my mind was elsewhere. Kris was bossy. I didn't like that. She was friendly about it all, and I really owed her a lot for having saved my ass from living in the street. She seemed nice, she still did. But nice people wouldn't try to take advantage of the person they had helped.

In a way I felt like that was exactly what she was doing. She hadn't made that many orders, but I hadn't been in the apartment for more than two hours. And expecting me to sleep at the foot of her bed. Fuck that! No one would find that normal. And call me old fashioned, but there needed to be some respect coming my way for being the older one here. I mean I was two years her senior. I wasn't that polite, but even I wouldn't be comfortable ordering some older woman around, no matter how friendly my tone was.

A decision was made. I didn't like Kris...........Or I still liked Kris, but this wasn't promising.

Kris walked out of our room and into the living room. She wore a white tank-top that revealed her tan arms and blue pajama shorts. She looked good! She had always looked good. "What you watching?" She threw herself on the other end of the couch that I was sitting on and flung her legs up, planting her white-socked feet in my lap.

"GOT," I said.

"Cool," She crossed her hands behind her head and leaned back to get comfortable.

I sat and watched in silent for a bit, before a musty smell wafted under my nose. It didn't take me long to know where it was coming from. Her socks looked dirty and sweaty, as they had a gray layer on the toes part. I didn't comment.

"So Kris," I said.

"Yeah?"

"Never asked you what you do for a living."

"Digital Artist. I design illustrations and what not."

"Oh." I said, "What like... freelance?"

"Yeah," She nodded. "But I have a good number of customers that give me jobs regularly. And they pay well. So it reached a point where the money is stable I think. But I'm trying to land a job at this big Publishing house to design covers for them. If I manage to do that, it'll be great."

What she said made me think the money was good, which confused me. "...So it pays well?"

"Yeah."

My eyes narrowed instinctively as I cocked my head. "...Why do you still live here?"

"I grew up here." She shrugged. "And... I don't know. I looked at some more 'decent' neighborhoods, none of them appealed to me. And the rent is way more expensive. Isn't worth it. And besides..." She halted in her speech, hesitated, then went silent.

"What...?"

"Nothing. it's stupid."

"No come on." Only reason I wanted to know was that she didn't want to tell me. "What is it?"

She smiled, pursing her lips as if deciding whether or not to tell me. "I did a lot... a lot... of kickboxing in high school."

"...Yeah?" I wasn't sure how this could be relevant.

"I dunno. Fighting appealed to me back then, in a way. Someone trying to fuck with you and you kick their ass."

"Aha." I nodded, still clueless about where this was going.

"And here... it's a lot more probable that you'll come by some jerk and have to kick their ass. Not that much, but probably more than a nice neighborhood."

I repeated what she said in my head like three times, and in the end, I accepted that it meant exactly what she said. "Are you saying you like getting picked on so you could defend yourself?"

"...Basically Yeah. It's always fun being in a real fight. Such a thrill."

"That's... yeah you said it... stupid." I said, then waited a second till I remembered. "Are you saying you enjoyed the incident me and you had."

"You coming at me with a plastic knife, no, I was scared shitless at first. But once I had your head underfoot yeah it was fun." She chuckled.

I chuckled with her out of politeness, but I didn't find that funny. I didn't enjoy it. And...probably, I wouldn't have enjoyed it even if we had switched places. She obviously did. And I didn't know what to make of that. I just nodded then returned my attention to the screen in front of us.

With the conversation having finished, a sharp and stinky smell caught my attention. I sighed, already knowing where it came from. I looked down at the pair of socked feet crossed in my lap. I had an urge to grab them and throw them to the floor where they belonged, but it seemed rude to do that. Was it rude? It was my lap! I should have a say in whether or not I want a pair of filthy feet to rest on it right. Maybe it was rude of her to put them in my lap in the first place while they were that smelly--

Fuck it. It wasn't the end of the world. I just sat there and focused on the show, and every now and then, my eyes darted down, to her legs. I had already got a look at them, but not when they were this close. They looked good. Not too skinny not too chubby, just a pair of fine legs crossed over my lap, and I had no idea why I was looking at them. My eyes found their way to her thigs, and continued going up, her stomach, her breast, her face, her eyes that looked directly at me--Fuck. How long had she been looking? I blushed and smiled awkwardly.

She gave me a comforting smile, as if she'd sensed my discomfort. "So where are you from?" She said.

I didn't like to tell my story that much. Just made me sad to think about how my life had been no more than three years ago. And she'd surely ask me about it once I'd tell her where I was from. But she always answered my questions openly, so it was only right that I did the same. "Blackvailta Street. Uptown," I expected to see some kind of shock on her face. None of that.

She just nodded indifferently, biting her lower lip before she said, "Yeah, figured."

I was the one in shock. What did she mean by that? People there had money. Lots of money. Like I used to have before I blew it all away and blew away my sister with it. Still, it wasn't something that you'd figure from spending a day with me. "What do you mean?" I smiled questionably.

"I mean I can tell!" She said, widening her eyes as if she was stating the obvious. "You're posh."

"Posh?" I said.

She nodded.

"...I..." I pointed a finger at me. "You think I...am posh?" I said. "Me."

"Yep." She nodded, confused by my confusion. "You're just... awfully nice and shy and usually nervous."

I frowned. "That has nothing to do with posh. Don't think you understand the word." I was almost relived, before I realized that what she actually meant was far worse. "And I'm not that nice." I said, leaving out the shy and nervous part, even though I was bothered by them most. "And not that it matters, but I've been living here for years."

"Yeah." She rolled her eyes. "This neighborhood chewed you and spat you out. Your kind doesn't do so well around places like this hun."

What did she think she was a gangster or something? It wasn't that bad. And more importantly what did she think I was? "You people?"

"Yeah. Posh--okay not posh, honestly, I have no idea what that word means. I just thought it fits you. I bet you're the kind of girl that people find hard not to walk all over."

I paused for a second to digest this. I didn't want to assume, but I had a strong feeling I was being insulted here. "Are you..." I paused. "You saying that I am... what? A pushover." I didn't sound aggressive, but I was sure my offended pride made it into my tone.

She shrugged awkwardly then said, "Maybe a posh-over." She smiled, her expression playful, as if inviting me to laugh on her dumb pun. I didn't. She rolled her eyes and frowned. "Jee. You don't have to be salty about it."

"I'm not overly nice, I'm not a push over and I'm not--whatever, okay," I said. "Don't say that to me. That's not nice."

She burst laughing and her foot accidently bolted up and hit my face, which I didn't appreciate. "Sorry," she said as she tried to control her laughs and put her feet back down. "That's not nice." She mimicked me in a tone that I hadn't spoken in my life. "Don't say that that's not nice. That's just a classic posh line...or wimp line...or whatever you know what I mean."

She kept giggling, and I kept staring at her with a frown on my face hoping that would make her stop. It didn't of course but I didn't know what else to do. Bitch was basically laughing her ass off at my personality...the personality she thought I had anyway, but it still hurt.

Some genuine annoyance must've made it to my face cause she suddenly stopped giggling and looked at me apologetically, but still smiled. "Awwhh come on. I'm kidding alright. I mean it's okay." She paused, hesitated, then shrugged. "I like it. I think it's cute"

Of course she did. Who wouldn't like a wimpy--or posh in her stupid vocabulary--girl that they could walk all over as a roommate. Not all people liked that. Some did. The kind of people that I was starting to think my new savior belonged to: Assholes.

I lived with an asshole once. My friend Martha. She was the last one that I had went for when I was still living on friends' couches. She served as a great motivator for me to find a job and afford an apartment. She tried to throw all the chores on me and for some reason kept making those backhanded mean comments, and never let me forget how stupid I had been in blowing the money, even though she was on every party, event and vacation I blew it on.

Right now, chores were already my full responsibility; Kris had made that very clear. And the mean part of her personality was slowly being unraveled, which was making me slowly realize that we couldn't be friends. That sucked, cause till now I still really liked her.

"Whatever," I said as I crossed my arms and turned my head back towards the TV.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her roll her eyes. "Seriously?"

I didn't respond.

I heard her sigh then go silent.

With time I felt only more irritated thinking about what she said. Was that why she had been acting all bossy with me? Cause she thought she could? Cause she thought I was too weak to stand up for myself?

"Your feet stink by the way." I heard myself say firmly as I looked forward. I didn't know why I said it. Maybe trying to assert myself in the most trivial and none-confrontational way I could think of.

"I know." She said as she recrossed her ankles lazily.

I needed a while to register that. I know! I looked at her and her attention was fully on the TV. "No, I mean that I don't appreciate them being in my lap." The firmness in my tone got her attention.

My heart started pounding against my chest as soon as her eyes met mine. I continued. "They're dirty and they smell. You should put them somewhere else." I said but looked back at the TV before I got to even finish my line. I couldn't keep eye contact with her while I said what I said.

She didn't respond right away, and I could feel her eyes focused on the side of my face. Her toes wiggled inside their damp white socks before she said, "Oh yeah. Would it help if I put them on your face?"

I just turned towards her and gave a sarcastic, mean snicker, then looked at the TV again. Still, I felt anxious. I hated feet and everything about them. I didn't care if they were disgustingly ugly or won awards for their beauty or some shit like that. I hated their smell and taste and everything else about them. So her joke got under my skin, and I was able to stay calm only cause I was certain that she was kidding. Not funny, but she was kidding.

Barely five seconds had passed before I felt the feet in my lap rise. At first I was relived thinking that she'd chosen to be decent and put them on the floor. But suddenly a pair of gray-stained white socked soles filled my view. They'd barely touched my nose before my hands bolted up and pushed them away. "What the fuck!" I shouted at her.

She held a hand over her mouth as she giggled. "What!" she said. "They're only feet. Come on, you don't want them on your lap." She raised them again, only faster. My back slammed against the couch as her damp socks made contact with my face. She pushed them against my cheeks and forehead and actually started wiping them up and down.

I gave out a high-pitched cry as I immediately pushed them away again, then anxiously wiped my palms on my sweat-stained face. "For fuck's sake Kris." I whined at her as I tried to rub my face clean. "Stop doing that! that's not nice--" The words flew out of my mouth before I managed to shut myself up. She giggled at me.

Once my face was relatively clean, I looked at her, my face serious and--hopefully--threatening. She bit her lip at me as she tilted her head, as if considering whether or not to apologize; at least that was what I hopped she was considering.

I took a deep breath, genuinely worried. "Look. I really don't..."

"Appreciate?" She chuckled.

"Yeah." I said angrily.

"Why not?" She said.

"It's disgusting!" I threw my hands in the air. "And disrespectful. I don't want you fooling around with me like that okay?"

Her playful expression was gone, which was a good sign. Her lip gave a curious smile as she looked at me silently.

This sucked. I knew I'd have to fight to put some boundaries between me and her, some rules and what not, but I never thought this would be one of them. She was acting like a child, a mean one. I held eye contact with her for a moment. I didn't know how I looked, I just hoped I didn't look scared, cause I really was.

Suddenly, she shifted her butt closer to me on the couch and rose her legs again. I tried to rise my hands in defense but her sweaty soles were already pushing against my face, hard. "Kri-hmmhm" Her soles muffled my shout.

"What you gonna do about it blondie?" She mocked.

She put effort into grinding her feet up and down my face, so hard that she was pulling painfully on my checks and squashing my nose. My hands worked trying to push them away, but her legs were simply stronger than my arms and my resistance only made her push harder. I gave high-pitched cries that were muffled by her damp soles and only heard hysteric giggles and chuckles in return. With my nose squashed it was hard for me to breath, and whatever breath I took was combined with a rank stench that made me gag.