Adventures with Charlotte
Part 1
My roommate and his girlfriend had been fighting for a while. To be honest, that seemed to be the only thing they did anymore. I couldn't remember the last time they'd had a pleasant, or even truly civil conversation. The tiniest thing set both of them off anymore, and I was spending more and more time holed up in my room to avoid it.
Granted, I was mostly okay with this. It's not like my room was an uncomfortable place to hang out. Still, it would have been nice to be able to trek out to the kitchen or the bathroom without feeling like I was navigating a war zone.
Bill and I had lived together for about three years. We met through a mutual friend, and hit it off. When we both found ourselves without a place to live shortly after that, we decided to go halves on a new apartment. It was pretty cool for a while. We hung out, played video games, joked a lot. He wasn't a slob, and he kept up his half of the bills.
He started dating Charlotte about a year ago, and she started spending a lot of time at our place. She was pretty cool, too, and very attractive. She was a little bit shorter than me, with long brown hair and an athletic body. Long brown hair down to the middle of her back, bright blue eyes, an adorable smile, and a mesmerizing laugh. She worked as a teaching assistant at the elementary school downtown. She liked jazz music, Chinese food, and old book stores.
Sometimes I wondered what she even saw in Bill. He was a cool guy and all, but they really didn't seem to mesh well. He worked in a canning factory, and often came home smelling like pickles or sauerkraut. He was tall, not overweight but not really muscular, either. His shaggy blond hair was always a mess, and never seemed to shave (though it never really grew past stubble, either). He laughed loudly and obnoxiously, listened to heavy metal, and I don't think I ever saw him pick up a book. I didn't have anything against the guy, but he and Charlotte just seemed out of place with each other.
Then the fighting started. At first, it was just a simple disagreement about where the relationship was going. Charlotte was the committed type, but Bill didn't seem to know what he wanted to do. Then it evolved to arguing about career choices. That's about when I started tuning it out. Pretty soon, they were picking at each other about every little thing. It was almost like they were looking for reasons to be mad at each other. I stopped keeping track of who started which fight, or who won. I figured it was best if I just stayed out of it.
Until the night he hit her.
They were already arguing when I snuck out of my room in an attempt to get to the kitchen. All I wanted was a Coke from the fridge, and then to disappear back into my room.
"I never said you were worthless!" I heard Charlotte yell. "All I said was-"
"That my job is worthless, right?"
"I didn't say that, either! There's nothing wrong with your job."
"Then why do I need to get out of it?" Bill shot back. "What does it matter?"
"I just think there's more potential in something else," Charlotte tried to tell him. She was backing down from yelling, and making an attempt at rationality. "Maybe something else would pay a bit more-"
"So, it's about the money! You signed on for the bank account, but it wasn't what you were expecting!"
"That's not it, either," she said. "If there's going to be any future-"
"Bullshit!" Bill yelled. "You're trying to control me! You have been this whole time!"
"No, I-"
She never finished her sentence. Bill smacked her clear across the face. She stumbled backward onto the couch, her hand to her cheek. She was just staring up at him, in total shock and unable to speak. Bill opened his mouth to say something, but he never got the chance.
The next thing he knew, he was sprawled on the floor in the corner of the living room. As soon as his hand flew at her, I launched myself across the apartment and body-checked him into the wall. It took him a second to realize what had happened.
"What the fuck, man?"
"You fucking hit her, you asshole!"
"Stay out of it, Pete! This doesn't concern you!"
"The fuck it doesn't! I stayed out of it this far, because your business is your business. But I'm not gonna let you pull that shit! I'm not gonna let you hit her!"
"Do you want me to hit you, instead?"
"Try it, dickhead!" He was staggering to his feet. I thought for a second I might have given him a concussion. He managed to stand up, looked me up and down for a second, then seemed to think better of fighting back.
"Get the fuck out of here," he said. "This is between me and her."
"Not anymore," I said. "You went too far. Get out!"
"What?"
"You heard me," I said. "Get the fuck out! Get your shit together, and fuck off!"
"You can't kick-"
"The fuck I can't! GET OUT!"
There was a deafening silence while Bill considered his options. Finally, he stormed off to this room, threw some of his things in a bag, and slammed out of the apartment.
I turned to Charlotte, who was on her feet, and looked like she had been about to fight back. I went to the kitchen and wrapped some ice in a towel. She placed it on her cheek, wincing at the pain, then sat back to catch her breath.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"I will be," she said, forcing her breathing to even out. "You didn't have to do that."
"I know," I said. There was no doubt in my mind she could have handled herself. "Instinct, I guess."
"Don't think I'm not grateful," she said. "Another second, though, and he was going to get a nut shot."
"I believe it." Another thought occurred to me. "Shit...did I just dump him for you?"
"I think you kinda did," she chuckled.
"Sorry."
"Don't be," she said. "If you hadn't, I was going to. I can take a lot, but I draw the line at getting hit."
"Makes sense." She pulled the towel away from her face and looked at me.
"How bad is it?" There was a nasty red mark on her cheek, but that was all. I had her tilt her head toward the light so I could check for a concussion, but she was fine.
"You'll sleep it off," I said.
"Speaking of which," she said, putting the towel back on her face, "do you mind if I stay here tonight? I don't want to go back to my place just now."
"Sure," I said. "Do you want to sleep in Bill's room, or out here?"
"Definitely out here. I don't want to get into that bed ever again."
I got her a blanket and a pillow, and a glass of wine to calm herself down. She thanked me, then settled in for some sleep. I left her to it, went back to my room, and started to puzzle out what I was going to do about a new roommate.
The answer to that presented itself. Bill came back two days later to clear out the rest of his stuff. To my relief, he didn't make a scene of doing so. He was completely gone by that afternoon.
Charlotte, however, showed up that night with a pizza. She had also come to get her stuff, but she wanted to bring an offering of thanks. We ate it together, and she told me about her day at school. I told her about my day, working from home as a freelance journalist. We actually had a good time, and ended up staying up later than either of us planned. It was nearly midnight by the time she left.
Another week or so went by, and the next round of rent was coming due. I had enough to cover it this month, but going forward I would have to do some financial maneuvering. I needed a roommate in a hurry, but none of my friends were looking for a new place. I was starting to think about moving again.
I told this to Charlotte. She and I had stayed in contact those past weeks, and had hung out a couple of times. She was over again, this time with Chinese food, and I was lamenting my situation.
"Actually," she said, "it's funny you bring it up. Turns out...I might be looking for a place to live, too."
