Flat-Out Love

CHAPTER 5

 

 

Julie pursed her lips. She didn’t like this realtor. How could his pants be falling off when he had such a substantial belly willing to hold them up? But the real reason she didn’t care for this jerk was because he’d just brought them to yet another dumpy, probably condemned apartment.

 

“Well, this is obviously the apartment I was meant to have. No wonder the one in Jamaica Plain didn’t work out. It was a sign from God that I needed to find this gem. The cockroaches are a nice bonus. I’ve always wanted to live with animals. And I can make extra money working as a hooker. Those girls outside looked really friendly, and I’m sure they’d take me under their wing and teach me the tricks of the trade. Pardon the pun.”

 

Matt stepped soundly on a particularly beefy cockroach. “Odds are their pimp would be highly interested in obtaining the services of a nice Midwestern girl. Boston men are forever complaining about the same old, same old with East Coast prostitutes.”

 

The realtor growled and tugged on his sagging pants. “Look, you two, this is the eighth goddamn place I’ve showed you. This is what you get in your price range, missy. Take it or leave it.”

 

“She’ll need to see another goddamn place, then, because the roaches have unionized and put a stop to further negotiations regarding new tenants. Also, I think I smell a dead body.”

 

The realtor threw his hands up in Julie’s direction. “Sweetheart, with what you’re willing to pay, you’d be better off squeezing in with five roommates in a one-bedroom. And I don’t have those kinds of listings. Check Craigslist.”

 

Julie squinted her eyes. “Sweetheart will not be using Craigslist. Sweetheart will not be living here. Sweetheart will likely collapse in despair and move back to Ohio, where she will wait tables at Dirk’s Drink Dive and give up on her dream of attending at least one college class before the turn of the century.”

 

She briefly considered calling her father to bail her out of this hell. That was, if she could even reach him. Forget it. Way too embarrassing. She was paying for college with money from her mother and student loans, and she could surely figure out this situation without humiliating herself in front of her father. She wiped her forehead. God, it was stuffy and rank in here, and she could feel the sweat practically streaming down her back. Who knew Boston was so humid? Well, Bostonians probably.

 

Julie knew that she had better get out of this building before she further insulted this jackass. She’d already been rude enough, but she couldn’t be held responsible for what came out of her mouth right now. Poor Matt had trekked around various Boston neighborhoods with her to look at one uninhabitable place after another. After four hours of searching, she was no closer to finding a place to live than she was when they’d started. And now here she was mouthing off and acting like a total lunatic.

 

She took a deep breath. “Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to,” she started slowly, hoping that, if she spoke positively, a brilliant idea would come to her and let her complete the sentence. “I am going to consider the many simple solutions to my housing crisis and deduce what the best strategy will be.” She paused. “And I choose to wander around and…and look for fliers from people seeking roommates. Yes. That is the plan.”

 

Matt looked doubtful. “If that’s what you want, sure. Let’s go back into Harvard Square. It’s probably your best bet. And less corpse-y.”

 

“Corpse-y? Really? Is that an MIT word?”

 

“You bet. Let’s get out of here.”

 

Julie followed Matt out of the apartment and walked silently next to him for ten minutes as he led them to the nearest T stop. “Where are we again? I’m totally confused.”

 

“Just outside Davis Square. It’s mostly a nice area, but like anyplace, it has its not-so-good parts.”

 

“I appreciate your help. I really do. This is all my fault, and you shouldn’t have to give up your day to visit every hellhole in a ten-mile radius.” Julie was exhausted and dejected. She was beginning to realize that with the amount of money she had for rent, finding reasonable accommodations was going to be next to impossible.

 

Matt held the door to the T station open for her. Julie thought that it seemed awfully crowded for a weekday afternoon, and the top landing by the stairs was mobbed with people talking on cell phones, bumping into her, and blocking her view. The heat from the swarm of commuters added to her increasing exhaustion and discomfort. She stepped closer to Matt so she wouldn’t lose him and followed him onto the staircase. Or what she thought was the staircase.

 

And then her heart started to pound. “Wait, no! No! No escalators. Matt, I don’t do escalators.” Julie tried to step off, but she was too late, now feeling as though she were plunging straight down, unsecured and helpless. She glanced at the bottom of the landing, aware of the hideously steep incline and the slow pace of the escalator. Dizzy and overwhelmingly anxious, Julie could see shapes begin to blur and felt her knees tremble as the vertigo took over.

 

“Julie? Julie?” She was aware of Matt’s voice, but it sounded foggy and unnatural. She could make out his green T-shirt as he turned toward her, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her in as she started to drop. “I got you,” he said. “I won’t let you fall. Just hold on.” He held her tightly against his chest, and she briefly wondered if he was wearing Axe body spray.

 

“Boooo,” she murmured.

 

“What did you say? Are you OK? Just hold on for another minute.”

 

And then suddenly they were off the horrible escalator, Julie still awkwardly slumped in his arms while people swarmed around them.

 

“Oh. Sorry.” Alert enough to know that she didn’t want to faint in a T station, she pulled back a bit, trying to steady herself against Matt as she forced her legs to work. He was surprisingly strong for someone who likely spent most of his day hunched over a scientific calculator. Slowly the world came into focus again, and she found herself staring at his shirt, which enthusiastically announced FTW!

 

For. The. Win, she mouthed and shut her eyes in dismay.

 

She felt drunk, the way she had after those three shots of putrid peppermint schnapps at the prom. She wasn’t a big drinker (as evidenced that night, when she hurled up chicken divan in the ladies’ room at the Hotel Carnegie), and she didn’t care for the similar feeling she had now.

 

She poked her finger into his chest. “Matthew, my friend, you need some new clothes.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

She looked up at him dizzily. “Do you have one geeky shirt for every day of the week?”

 

“More than that. Don’t worry.”

 

“I am flooded with relief.”

 

“Are you OK now?”

 

“Oh.” Julie realized she was still slouched into him. “Yes. I’m…I’m perfectly OK. Brilliant.” She dropped her hands from his chest and took a step back. There. She could see normally, and her knees were no longer comprised solely of gelatin. “Sorry about that. Let’s go get our train.”

 

Matt looked at her skeptically. “If you’re sure.”

 

“Yeah. I’m fine. See?” She jumped up and down. “All motor function has been restored. Physiological integrity is intact. I can now continue not finding an apartment.”

 

“You’re very goofy.”

 

The underground platform area was cool and helped Julie feel human again. The downside of which was that she could now fully appreciate how embarrassing her near-fainting spell was. She was very good about avoiding situations that brought on an attack, but she hadn’t been able to see that damn escalator through all the T riders.

 

They had to wait only a few minutes before the next train screeched to a halt. She and Matt stepped onto the train and sat down in seats that faced the center of the car. Julie crossed her legs and tried to appear as composed as one could after such an incident.

 

She tucked her hair behind her ears. “So now you know that I don’t like escalators. Or elevators, I imagine, although I haven’t been on one in years. Maybe I’ve improved. It makes me fall apart. I call it moving height freak-out syndrome.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Matt informed her. “You’re acrophobic, which is one of the space and motion phobias. You have an irrational fear of heights that results in severe discomfort. And you didn’t exactly freak out. You probably experienced dizziness and some panic, right?”

 

“Thank you for ruining my attempt to bring levity to my traumatic event.” Julie managed not to glower, although it took some effort.

 

“I’m not ruining your attempt at levity, but you should come up with a name that is factually accurate.” Matt stood up and grabbed a metal bar that ran above his head, swaying with the movement of the train.

 

“I can come up with whatever the hell name I want to. It’s my syndrome, so I get to name it.”

 

“Well, it’s not really your syndrome, considering that other people—”

 

“Oh my God!” Julie pleaded. “Can we not argue about what this mortifying thing is called?”

 

“We’re not arguing. We’re discussing. And you shouldn’t be mortified. It’s really not that uncommon.”

 

“I don’t care if it’s common or not, I have the right to be mortified if I want to.”

 

“Of course you have the right. I’m just telling you that if your feeling of mortification is based on the belief that this is an unusual pathology, then statistically speaking, you have no reason to.” He was more animated now than Julie had seen him before, color coming into his cheeks and his murky gray eyes actually shining. “You can take comfort in being part of a community. If you look at the percentage of people with any phobia at all, then you’ve got substantial company.”

 

“So now I’m pathological?” Julie clenched her hands. Good Lord, Matt was exasperating, particularly because he had an annoying grin plastered on his face and seemed to delight way too much in being difficult. Great. She finally had the annoying brother she’d never wanted.

 

“No, you’re not pathological, but acrophobia is pathological in the sense that your reaction to heights deviates from the norm.”

 

“Why do you have to correct everything I say?” Julie glanced at his FTW! shirt. “Out of the two of us, I don’t think I’m the one who deviates from the norm.” The train slammed to a stop. “You’re the one who seems to get off arguing.”

 

“You sound exactly like Finn. We’re exchanging ideas. Debating.” Matt looked down at his shorts. “And so far I haven’t gotten off.”

 

“Don’t be rude. Then let’s call it a draw, and we’ll agree to disagree. Come on. I don’t suppose I can get a Coolatta around here? I need caffeine if I’m going to regroup and find an apartment today.” Julie stepped onto the platform with Matt close behind her.

 

“Watch it,” he warned. “Make sure you get on the stairs here. This station also has a really steep escalator.”

 

They took the stairs and emerged in the center of Harvard Square. Matt directed her to a community board where people had pinned information about everything from bands and jobs to lecture series and free film nights. Julie liked it here, where a diverse crowd could make anybody feel comfortable: students, professors, parents with toddlers, and punked-out teens skipping school all crowded the brick sidewalks. Groups of people were clustered on concrete steps; musicians were playing instruments and singing James Taylor songs; and a puppeteer across the street was making elaborate marionettes dance while little kids laughed. Even the man in a floral dress on roller blades who was shouting a profane version of the Declaration of Independence seemed to fit in. There was an energy here that she found enthralling.

 

“What about this one?” Matt pointed to a flier advertising a one-bedroom apartment.

 

“First of all, I can’t afford that. Second of all, this ad looks really old. All the phone number tabs have been torn off.”

 

“You never know. Maybe they had a slew of undesirables and lowered the price, hoping someone normal will call. I bet the last applicant was a wealthy but deranged middle-aged clown who tried to juggle the roommates.”

 

Julie raised an eyebrow. “Or it was an unhinged MIT nerd who wanted to take over the apartment with his techie gear, leaving little room for necessary things like furniture.”

 

Matt tapped the side of his head. “Now you’re thinking.”

 

There were a few ads that looked like possibilities, so Julie stored the numbers on her phone. Matt had to get home to get the car and pick up Celeste from school, so they grabbed sandwich wraps to go from a place on Mt. Auburn Street, and then Julie set her sights on locating her coveted coffee beverage as quickly as possible. “I need a Coolatta, Matt. Please tell me we can get one here? I may accidentally reenact the escalator scene if I don’t find one soon.” Julie tripped on the cobbled sidewalk. “See? I’m already beginning to derail.”

 

“Yes. Right away.”

 

Matt led them across the square to a quieter side street, then back down Mass Ave., then down a shorter one-way street, occasionally glancing at Julie.

 

Julie followed him obediently, wondering why he’d passed three Dunkin’ Donuts without heading into any of them. She stopped him and dropped her head to the side. “Oh, you poor thing. You don’t know what a Coolatta is, do you?”

 

Matt actually appeared to squirm a bit. “Well, no. I don’t.”

 

“Hold on, I have to mark this event.” Julie whipped out her phone and updated her Facebook status, which she read aloud to Matt.

 

Julie Seagle Have discovered noticeable gap in know-it-all’s knowledge base. Will celebrate enchanting news with Coolatta.

 

She was unable to stifle a grin.

 

Matt put his hands on his hips. “Hysterical. I never said that I knew everything. I’m just confident that I’m well-informed on many subjects.”

 

“Apparently not important subjects.” Julie marched ahead. “And, by the way, there’s a difference between confident and cocky. Look, there’s a Dunkin’ at the top of this street. Do you know how far I have to drive at home to find one? And here you are, surrounded by one on every street corner! This is obviously the best city in the world. And the reason you’ve never heard of my favorite drink is because you’re probably an uptight coffeehouse, double-espresso, no-sugar kind of guy?”

 

“I’m miserably transparent, huh?”

 

“No. I’m a coffee psychic. You have that bitter double-espresso look about you. But today you’re joining up with the masses and getting a Coolatta.”

 

A few minutes later, Julie was happily inhaling her large frozen coffee drink while they headed out of the square.

 

Matt looked less than thrilled and made an exaggerated disgusted face after his first taste.

 

“This is a very popular drink, you know,” Julie informed him. “There’s no reason to be making such an expression.”

 

“This must be why I’m not a social icon. You’ve finally pinpointed it. I don’t blindly follow popular culture’s love for overly sweet, pseudo-coffee, ice-crystal concoctions. It’s a relief to finally understand why my social status is on a downward course.”

 

“It’s either that or the shirts,” Julie muttered. “Hey, can we walk home by the river?” Julie could just glimpse the blue water and was aching to stroll back to the house along the picturesque path that ran through the grass.

 

Matt brushed his shaggy hair from his face. “Unfortunately, we don’t really have time right now. It’s faster to cut directly through the square, and I have to get Celeste.”

 

“Sure. No problem.” Julie took another sip of her drink. “Thank you for helping me out today. I’m sure this was a huge drag, but I really appreciate it. This was incredibly nice of you, and I’m sorry if I’ve been grouchy. I didn’t expect to start off my freshman year in such flux. You’ve become a social icon to me,” she teased.

 

“Yeah, right. You haven’t been grouchy. You’ve been expressive and feisty. Both of which I like. Considering that your first days in Boston are far from what you were expecting, I think that you’re doing great. I’m happy to help.”

 

They walked quietly for a few minutes, and Julie noticed that despite the lull in conversation, there was nothing the least bit uncomfortable about being with Matt.

 

“So, do you pick up Celeste every day?” She hoped that he wouldn’t bite her head off for this Celeste-related question.

 

He nodded.

 

“And do you stay with her after school too, until your parents get home?”

 

“I do.”

 

“How do you get your schoolwork done? I imagine you’ve got more homework than the average student.”

 

He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I stay up late, which I like. Sometimes I go back to school at night if I need to use one of the labs. It works out fine.”

 

“Is that why you don’t live in the dorms? Or an apartment?”

 

“It would be rather silly to pay rent when my parents’ house is so close to school.”

 

“I guess so.”

 

Matt took another sip of his drink. Aha! Julie smiled to herself and kept walking. He did like the Coolatta. Everyone did.