Chapter Two

Dylan meets his roommate, an old friend from his childhood, named Owen. Read as Dylan tries to deal with Owen's sex driven escapades.

Chapter 2

 

The apartment wasn’t as bad as I’d made it sound. In fact, it was fully furnished, had two bedrooms and one bathroom in between the two bedrooms. It was quite possibly the smallest two-bedroom apartment in New York, but it was nice. Each bedroom was equipped with a double bed and an empty dresser. One of the bedrooms had a window in it, while the other didn’t. I took the room without the window; it felt like it suit me best. I’d moved my bed into the corner of my room, and put my bed sheets on it. My clothes were filed away in my drawers.

By the time I’d finished putting my clothes away, I sat on my bed, realizing that I didn’t have to put my clothes away because nobody was going to care.

I was finally in a world without rules.

I got up and walked out to the living room to peer out the window through the wooden shutters which were bought at Bed, Bath and Beyond, in hopes that I’d find Owen outside. It was now that time of day where the sun and moon are both above you at the same time. He was an hour later than he said he’d be. He called me two hours ago to tell me when he’d arrive. I mean, he’d lived in this city since he was ten " how lost could he have gotten?

When all hope had seemed lost, I heard the door open from the kitchen. I turned around and watched as he walked in…with a girl on his arm, kissing his neck. He was certainly not the Owen I remembered. That innocent look he had in his eyes when he’d broken his mother’s vase at in second grade " it was gone. 

“Oh my god,” The woman panted as though she’d just finished a marathon. “Where’s the bedroom?”  Her lips bounced back to his cheek.

“Through there!” Owen’s arm moved up to the door, leading to my bedroom. It would seem as though we’d both claimed the same bedroom. His lips went and continued to push against the face of this blond-haired girl. She seemed slightly older than we were. He puckered away, once he’d realized that I’d just been standing there, awkwardly watching them make out right in front of me.

The blonde woman leaned backwards, pulling Owen with her. “Well, I suggest we move things to the bedroom " shouldn’t we?”

“You betcha,” He kissed her on the lips once more. After that last kiss, she drew away and walked to my bedroom. Their hands were together, and pulled apart as he told her, “I’ll be just a second, just have to chat with my roommate.”

“I’ll be waiting.” She smiled.

“Uh, hi,” I awkward said.

“It’s Dylan!” Owen came in and gave me a giant hug. He was squeezing me so tight, my lungs felt like they were going to burst. “How the hell have you been?” He released me.

“I’ve uh, been great.” I wasn’t making eye contact with Owen. My attention was drawn to my bedroom, where Owen’s girlfriend (or whatever she was) was laying on my bed, running her fingers down her side erotically. When I finally looked back at Owen, I asked him, “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been living!” He laughed, pulling a cigarette and lighter from the pocket in his jeans. Everything about Owen had changed " physically and psychologically. His hair, which was that awkward color between brown and blond, but nobody knew what to call it, now hovered about his forehead. His teeth were much straighter, then I remembered and he had a few dabs of acne on his cheeks, nothing too noticeable. His voice had definitely gotten deeper and he seemed like he’d been freer. Is this was New York does to a person?

“When did you take up smoking?” I asked.

“What, you don’t smoke yet?” He smiled, placing it between his teeth and lighting it. After he’d taken his first puff he told me, “I started at sixteen. Everybody in New York smokes. It’s natural.” He laughed. There was something oddly familiar about his cigarette. I’d loved the smell of it; I’d just never tried it. I was always afraid my parents would catch me.

“Smoking rates are on the decrease,” I said confidently, using a statistic I’d learned from my tenth grade health class.

“Don’t b***h about the dangers until you’ve tried it!” Owen pulled the cigarette from his lips, turned the filter towards me, and pushed it in between my lips. “Puff it up!” Owen was taking peer pressure to the extreme. The only other thing that’d been in mouth, which had also been in Owen’s, was a Kool-Aid Jammers straw. I slipped it out of my mouth immediately, holding it like a joint " between my index and thumb. I had to admit though, I felt cool just holding it the way I was.

“Babe, are you coming?” I heard the girl call from the other room. 

“Just a sec!” Owen shouted back.

“Who’s the girl?” I asked.

Owen took the cigarette from me, took one last puff, and as he dabbed it out on the counter top, he told me, “I found her on the street " we got to talking " and yeah. Here we are.”

 “She’s a hooker?” I was in disbelief.

“No, she’s not a hooker. She was just outside this coffee shop I was stopping by " The Kitty Kat Lounge.” Owen suddenly groaned. “Aw s**t, I forgot. I bought us two mocha lattés and left them at the counter.” He rolled his eyes. “I hope you can forgive me. It’s just, she was hot, and she looked lonely.”

“So your plan was to seduce her?”

Owen turned and put his arm around my shoulders, leaning against me as if I was his wall. “Yeah, that was the plan.”

“Do you do this often?”

“I couldn’t before, as much as I wanted to. You know, living with my parents and all. Now I’m free! I can have as much sex as I want!” Owen let me go, walking towards my bedroom. “I’ll chat with you later, I have to pick up my stuff in a bit; thinking you could help me. You know?”

“I suppose so,” I smirked.

“Great, I’ll see you soon,” He said, talking like he was going somewhere else and he was going to meet up with me later, as he went in my room and shut the door behind him. I rolled my eyes, as I picked up Owen’s cigarette butt. He hadn’t even finished dabbing it out. Since the counter top had already been marked from his first attempt, I dabbed it out all the way, then flicked it out the window in the living room.

I took a seat on the couch. Owen was having sex in the other room, while I was…wait a second. I stood up, and ran to my room, opening the door. “Wait, don’t have sex on my-” I took a brief pause, because I was already too late to get through to their heads. They were still clothed, but Owen was on the bottom, and she was in between his legs. They were both aggressively kissing each other. “-bed” 

I rolled my eyes, and went back to sit in the living room, pouting. I’d have to find the nearest Laundromat on my first day in New York. Wow, I thought it’d be a week before I’d have to go there.

The whole time Owen and his ‘girlfriend’ were in my room (which was a full hour), I watched TV. I found it odd that they were silent the entire time. I could hear any moans, or creaking, or other sexually charged noises. It was just silence with the added sound of the TV echoing through the living room and kitchen.

Maybe they didn’t do it at all, and I wouldn’t have to wash my sheets tonight. Unfortunately, that was not the case. Owen and the girl came out of my room, like two scuba divers back after finally discovered Atlantis. Her hair was a wreck. His hair was a wreck. At least they were both clothed. The thing was, they weren’t kissing anymore. It was like all business had been taken care of, and she was free to go back into the sea now.

I wasn’t listening exactly to what Owen and the woman were saying to each other, but I just watched as the two of them talked. The way their mouths moved. The way Owen ran his fingers through his hair. It seemed like a joke had been told " or something of that nature. The fact that they could have meaningless sex before 9pm and still have a chuckle afterwards amused me. Perhaps romance in New York was dead.

Al I needed to do was let the new dating scene come into my apartment. Who needs to go to a nightclub? It was relationships on wheels when it came to this kind of romance. Damn.

“Buh-bye,” The girl called across the room to me. I was suddenly aware.

“See ya around!” I called back, with no intention of seeing her again.

“I’m sure you will.” With that, the girl walked out of the apartment. Owen closed the door behind her, and leaned his back up against the door " just as I did when my parents had left. Well, at least we’d both had our welcoming committees into ‘freedom’.

Owen pulled his cigarette and lighter from his pocket. Already unimpressed, I called to him, “You’re lighting up another one?”

“Look,” Owen said after taking his first puff. “It’s not like I’m a frigging chain smoker or anything. I’ve just didn’t get to finish my last drag.” He took another puff, putting his lighter into his left pocket, and pulling his smart phone out of his right. He just leaned against the door, probably checking his Facebook.  The smoke illuminated around his face as he smoked.

When he’d put his phone away, he walked into the living room and sat in the chair which was next to the window and adjacent to the couch I was sitting on, so that he could flick his ashes down below. The TV was turned on, but not to one specific channel. The clock above the TV read 8:01pm.

“That was quite the first impression.” I said, breaking the silence.

“Ah,” Owen smirked. “That wasn’t the first.” He’d been referencing the time before we were 10. It was then that I decided that not everything you knew about a person before the age of 10 counted. I mean, when we look at a newborn child " there’s no way we can predict that it’s going to grow up to be a lawyer or a pole dancer. There’s just no way. It’s childish.

“I get ya,” I replied.

“Look, you’ve got to grow up a little.” Owen laughed. “You don’t have to follow the rules anymore. You can be yourself. You can drink, have a one night stand, smoke, have a one night stand, not bathe, have a one night stand, oh, and did I mention that you could have a one night stand?” He laughed. Perhaps sex was the only thing on his mind.

“You had sex on my bed.” Was the only thing I could say?

With a groan, he said, “Ugh, I knew it was too good to be true. You didn’t make a bed for me.” He laughed. What did he expect me to be, his server? “I’m kidding,” He continued, after realizing I wasn’t laughing along with him. “Dude, just chill out,”

I sighed. It was then that I’d just decided to chill out. “Pass me a cigarette.”

“Oh, look at you " getting into the smoking.” Owen sat up and pulled one out of his pocket. “It’s my last one, so enjoy it.” For a moment, I’d wondered why he didn’t carry them around in a carton.

As I held that little stick that would later control my life between my fingers, I began to feel mature. “How do I do this?” Owen rolled his eyes as he jumped ship from the chair to the couch, and sat next to me. Our hips were touching. He placed the cigarette and lighter in my hand.

I put the cigarette between my lips, and with it hanging out I said, “So I think it goes like this.” I paused to light the lighter a couple of times. “And then I light it?”

Owen nodded.

I lit the cigarette.

“Now inhale the smoke,” Owen told me. I did as he commanded and inhaled from the filter. Something inside of me felt weird and tingly. “And exhale,”

As I exhaled, all of the smoke came out, and I began to cough.

“You inhaled too much!” Owen scolded.

“Ah,” I stood up off the couch, handing the cigarette back to Owen. As I ran to the kitchen, smoke briefly flowed out of my mouth. I turned the faucet on, spitting out huge chunks of spit. I scooped the running water into my mouth and swallowed, and gargled on it. “God damn it, that’s f*****g disgusting!” I shouted. When I turned my head, Owen was right behind me.

He patted my back as he said, “It’s alright the first time is always the hardest.” I continued to cough, putting my head back into the sink. Owen took a puff from his last cigarette and smashed it out in the running water in the sink. He then walked over to the window and tossed it onto the street below. “We really need to invest in an ashtray.” He laughed.

“No. We don’t.” I panted, turning off the faucet. My coughing fit had subsided. “That tasted like s**t,” I took a deep breath. “Why do you people do that?” Before he could reply, I walked into my bedroom, noting that the bed sheets had been completely mangled, and into the bathroom. The bathroom had two doors. One lead to my room, while the other lead to Owen’s room. I grabbed a white towel off the rack and dried my hair plus the side of my face. “I’m never doing that again!”   

Owen walked in and lead up against the doorjamb. “You’re getting there.” He smiled, “Your first cigarette was great. I love seeing people do that for the first time.”

“Oh yeah; well did that happen to you on the first time?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t have access to water like you did. I smoked my first in an alley way.” His tone was with pride. Bravo, Owen! “You, my friend, just say every single thing that every smoker says on their first try.” He patted me on the back. “Good job, Dylan.”

I threw the towel into the hamper. “Well, thanks, I guess.” I could at least give him that. Oh well. “My gosh, where did the time go? You’ve changed so much.”

“Well, duh,” His eyes bulged for a second. “Of course they did. Did you expect me to spend the rest of my life watching power rangers and beating up small children with a plastic light saber?” We both laughed at the thought of a grown man going to the park and beating small children with a light saber. “But tell me, seriously,” Owen continued, with a short giggle still in his breath, “How much have I changed?”

“Well, for starters, you’re taller.”

Owen nodded.

“And, I don’t know, you grew up.” I shrugged. “Have I changed?”

“Yup,” Owen’s eyebrows rose. “You grew up to be just like your mother.” He turned and took a few steps into my room. I followed close behind him.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked urgently.

“Well, when you were little, I remember how you used to rebel.” The only thought going through my mind was an imagination of my eight-year-old self, spraying gang signs on the side of the grocery store. When I squinted my eyes in confusion, he continued, “Well, I remember you were always somebody who liked to color outside the lines. You used to say what was on your mind. Hell, you used to say the word ‘f**k’ when your mother wasn’t looking. Now, I don’t see that at all. I just see somebody who’s been tamed by the rules.”

“I have not been tamed.” It’d dawned on me that my mother’s way of being prim and proper had influenced me greatly. It was as if she’d implanted a miniature version of herself inside of me so that I wouldn’t do anything wrong. Maybe by smoking my first cigarette tonight, I’d burned that little b***h out of my body.

“If you haven’t been tamed,” Owen walked over to my dresser. “Then explain this. He opened the second drawer down. He pulled out a shirt. “Oh look, that’s where the shirts go.” He pointed inside sarcastically. “And they’re nicely folded!” He pulled a shirt out from the dresser, unfolded it, and threw it across the room.

“Oh come on, being clean has nothing to do with being tamed.”

“Let me tell you something,” Owen closed the second drawer and opened the third. “Your jeans wouldn’t be in the third drawer down if you were just trying to make yourself look tidy.” He took out a pair of jeans and threw them across the room. They got caught on the bed post.

“But if my shirts were switched with my jeans, then I wouldn’t be tamed?”

“Exactly!” He slammed the third drawer shut.

“How does that even prove anything?”

“Oh come on!” He made a face as he stuck his arms into the air and walked closer to me. As he spoke, he moved his arm in a downward motion. “Everybody knows the order of the dresser. It’s underwear with socks, then shirts, then pants, and then miscellaneous.”

“So I should mix up my wardrobe?”

“No, don’t do that now.” He scoffed. “It’s already organized; you might as well leave it. I can tell you spent a long time folding all those clothes, and organizing them. Hell, you even made your bed as if a hotel maid did it herself!”

I rolled my eyes, sitting on my bed. Something inside of me snapped at that moment, and I knew that I was going to change. Forget how I was trained to be by my parents " I was now going to become my own person! 

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to change then!”

Owen stood beside me and patted me on the back once more. “And how do you plan on doing that, buddy?”

“I don’t know, I won’t do the dishes?”

“No, no. That’s not going to get you anywhere.” Owen thought for a moment. “I know you’re probably thinking about washing those sheets right now.” The thought of Owen and his mystery woman having sex suddenly popped into my mind. I stood up sporadically.

“Ah, there we go. Now I know how you can start.” He pointed at me like he’d just found my most vulnerable spot.

“No,” I knew what he was going to say next. “No, no, no.”

“You have to sleep in these bed sheets, tonight, unwashed.” The word ‘unwashed’ rang through my ears. To be quite honest, I was going to Google a Laundromat near the apartment and wash them there before it was time for bed. 

“No, I can’t! That’s gross.”

“It’s about living on the edge, Dylan, and now’s your time to do so!”

“Owen, no, that’s f*****g disgusting!”

“There we go, you said ‘f**k’! You’re already rebelling!”

“I said it before too, you a*****e!”

“There we go!” Owen had a big smile on his face, as if he’d just popped my cherry. “You sleep in these ‘sex-sheets’ tonight, and you can wash them tomorrow! Deal?”

I was hesitant at first. I rolled my eyes. I desperately wanted to change, and Owen seemed to know the best way how to. “Ugh,” I groaned. “Can’t I just try to smoke again?”

“You can do that later.” He waved his finger at me. “Go to bed in those sheets.”

I rolled my eyes. “Ugh, fine!” I threw my hands in the air, know that I was going to need a shower in the morning.

“Very good, young padawan!” Owen bowed, and exited the room. I looked at the bed sheets, thinking once more about Owen’s naked body rolling around in it. I should’ve just stopped them when I’d had the chance. That was the first night, since I was thirteen, in which I went to bed wearing my day jeans.

“Are you coming or what?” I heard Owen call from the other room.

I hustled into the kitchen. Owen was standing by the door. “What am I ready for?” I asked.

“It is 8:45,” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m tired, and I still haven’t gotten my clothes and other necessities.”

“Oh yeah,” I remembered, that while Owen was in the middle of his sexual escapade, I’d agreed to help him bring his stuff to our apartment. “Just let me get my shoes on.”    

Tonight was going to be my first night around the town.

Author's Note

This story is so far unedited, so please excuse the fact that this is my first draft. I'm trying to decide whether or not to scrap this story. I really want to know what you loved about these first four chapters, as well as what you absolutely hated or what didn't make any sense to you. I'd appreciate all of your feedback! Thank you so much!

Reviews

[Jamie Cook]

The apartment wasn’t as bad as I’d made it sound. In fact, it was fully furnished, had two bedrooms and one bathroom in between the two bedrooms.
ME: I've been bamBOOZLED! O_O

which were bought at Bed, Bath and Beyond,
ME: I love how it smells in there :3 It smells like fresheners :D

I turned around and watched as he walked in…with a girl on his arm, kissing his neck. He was certainly not the Owen I remembered.
ME: Oh heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell no! *slams door* Pssh, trying to bring in women in here like this is some sort of motel!

Is this was New York does to a person?
ME: Yup.

Perhaps sex was the only thing on his mind.
ME: No, I think he's all good, I mean he DID forget to mention that one night stand thing...totally..ahem!

“How does that even prove anything?”
ME: YEAH! What if I like that order??

The word ‘unwashed’ rang through my ears. To be quite honest, I was going to Google a Laundromat near the apartment and wash them there before it was time for bed.
ME: What kind of *holds onto neck*...i thought I was going to throw up but I just had to burp :3

Well, wasn't THAT an interesting read! ONWARDS! I'm curious as to see how this goes!

[Cody]

When I said that it wasn't as bad as he'd made it sound...I wanted to express that the apartment was cruddy looking at first, but as he was there longer, he was able to get used to it. I suppose I could add more detail there! (:

[Jamie Cook]

Oh I see :D Nah it's fine I probably didn't get it is all.