Tamara opens the door to the dark apartment. The air reeks of stale smoke, and she shakes her head as she makes her way through the empty living room without putting on the light. Bastard couldn’t hardly wait for her to be gone before polluting the air. It’s one thing smoking up outside. God, now all of the clothes she’s come to collect will reek. The married student residence is not a very big space after all. She’s reaching for the bedroom door when she hears groaning, then she pushes it open.

She freezes in the doorway as she is hit with the pungent smell of sex. The venetian blinds are cracked open just enough to illuminate flashes of the beast with two backs writhing in her bed.

Bastard.

A wave of red passes in front of Tamara’s eyes and her jaw clenches for one brief moment as she wishes she had a gun or a chainsaw or something.

Tamara whirls and stomps out, tears washing away the red of pure fury that’s blurring her vision just the same. Over the past year she’s come to realize Quentin is a loser but at least he was her loser. She never in a million years thought he’d be fucking someone else.

In her bed.

Can’t go five minutes without gettin’ some.

Prick.

Couldn’t wait for her.

Cocksucker.

Wouldn’t go to class.

Motherfucker.

Didn’t pull his own weight.

Bastard.

That is it, this marriage is done.   No more being screwed over.   She fumbles with the bolt and pushes the door open, then stumbles into the clean cold fresh air.

No.  No.  No.  Oh god, what a mess she’s made of her life. At least she hasn’t totally fucked up school.

She fucking loved that sumbitch.

How could he DO this to her.

Daddy will be happy anyway, she thinks, as she makes her way along the path.   He never did care for Q.   She pulls out her cellphone but has to rub her eyes because she can’t see to dial.   Screw it.   She’s not gonna go back to Barbie’s again.   She’s going to the pub.

Fuck him.   Um, no.   Not him.   She smiles through her tears.   Fuck somebody.   Anybody.   Somebody new.   Sauce for the goose.     This goose is gonna find a new friend tonight.   A stud who’ll take her home and fuck her blind.   Oh yes.   And a lawyer who will help her fuck that bastard Q over tomorrow.

Find a new apartment without any garbage.

§

The cool night air seeps into the front room, chilling Quentin. He shivers on the recliner and opens his eyes. His back is stiff as hell and his head aches something fierce. The god damned door is hanging open.

Scrubbing his face with his hands he gets up and slams the door that’s letting the cold air turn this dive into a walk-in freezer before stumbling into the kitchen.

Quentin splashes water on his face. He stiffens as he hears a noise behind him. Suddenly sober, Quentin whirls. But its only Jose padding out of the bedroom wearing only socks and underwear.

“Everything okay Q? I heard the door slam.”

Quentin raises his eyebrows. “Making yourself at home?”

Glad at least that Tamara isn’t here to see Jose in all his glory.

Jose grins. “You were passed out and Mouse got a little bit frisky so we borrowed your room. Hope that’s okay, bro.”

Quentin thinks it’s disgusting.   Last thing he wants it to sleep on somebody else’s wet spot.   But what he says is, “It’s cool.”

Jose leans against the counter, stretching.   “She’s gone all nervous like she’s afraid you’d come in. Got any more beer?”

Turning to the the fridge Quentin feels a pang of remorse as he comes face to face with Tamara’s schedule.   Fucking smoking up.   Totally forgot, and so he missed her again.

Quentin grabs a couple bottles of beer, passing one to Jose. They pop caps in unison then clink bottles before they drink. “Good times and good friends.” says Quentin.

Hearing the bitterness Jose asks, “Heard from Tamara?”

Quentin just shakes his head.

“Bummer.”

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When Nick comes into the pub he sees Ethan sitting alone at the bar, staring morosely at the bubbles rising in his glass of beer. Sliding onto the next stool Nick pats him on the shoulder. “Hey Ethan.”

Without looking up Ethan nods. “Surprised to see you in here.” Billie the bartender glances over, and Nick points at Ethan’s glass and holds up two fingers.

“It happens. You solo tonight?”

“Yeah. Hope I’m not back to solo every night.”

“You don’t want to be?”

Ethan shakes his head as the bartender sets two new bottles on the bar and accepts a bill from Nick.

“Don’t see you in here very often,” she says, raising her eyebrows. “Where’s that pretty wife of yours?”

“Home home throwing a computer club night. Much quieter over here let me tell you.”

“Then send them along here next time, get the joint jumping.” Billie laughs, counting out the change onto the bar and heads off to serve a table of hockey shirted jocks.

“How are you holding up under the TA stint? Prof driving you insane yet?”

“No, she’s pretty good, hasn’t buried me in crap and she’s actually pretty fair with the students.”

“That’s great to hear. They’re not all like that.”

“I thought you enjoyed TAing.”

“Oh I do. But the first prof I worked for was a real asshole, let me tell you. Thank god he retired because if he hadn’t I don’t think I’d still be here. He was just too much, and the last straw for my buddy. ‘Course, not everyone takes to it.”

Ethan drains his original glass, then picks up the one Nick has bought him and raises his glass to clink. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. You sure looked like you needed another.”

Ethan smiles ruefully. “Probably not. Good I don’t have to drive, but the companionship is sure welcome.”

“Ah, you’ve been here a while then. So what’s her name?”

“Liz.”

Nick thinks, then grins, “Not that incredibly cheerful Amazon?”

“That’s the one.”

Nick lets out a low wolf whistle. “You been out with her?”

“Yeah, and I thought it was going great but she got mad at me for wanting to walk her to class. She’s keeping me guessing, so I’m not sure if we’re dating or if she dumped me.”

Nick nods. “And you don’t want to be dumped.”

“Hell no. She says she doesn’t know if she wants to be in a relationship. I’m afraid she’s looking for excuses to dump me.”

“That’s tough.”

“Yeah.”

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Elsie sits with her back to the wall, legs extended along the length of the bench in back booth. Half a strawberry daiquiri and a basket of fries sit on the table, but all her attention is focused on the beat up medical textbook she’s poring over.

Every now and again Elsie makes a notation in the margins. She’s pretty oblivious to what’s going on around her, so she startles when Tamara plops on the bench opposite.

“Hey, Elsie. How’s it hanging.”

Elsie narrows her eyes. “I’m studying for a test tomorrow. You look like you should be sleeping. Shouldn’t you be home?”

Tamara just stares back. “I just wanted to ask you… um, how do you attract guys? What’s your secret?”

Elsie laughs. “No commitment. If I want a guy I let him know. Look, you aren’t going to get anywhere looking like that.”

Tamara looks defiant. “Like what?”

“Like a mess. Men are romantics, they all want a princess.” Elsie closes her book and sets it on the table beside the French fries. “Come on.”

Elsie gets up and heads for the washroom door. Tamara grudgingly gets up and follows.

Standing beside Elsie at the mirror Tamara appraises her red rimmed eyes and face streaked with make up. A mess.

“Okay, I see your point,” concedes Tamara.

“You’re a pretty girl, just not right now.”

“No Elsie, I’m an idiot. What can I say.” Tamara turns on her heel and leaves.

Elsie watches Tamara disappear through the rear exit door. Elsie shakes her head and goes back to her booth, picks up the book and is again transported into the wonderful world of medicine. Idly she pops a French fry into her mouth.

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Oscar sits at Kate’s desktop computer on the table pushed against the living room wall when Kate ushers in Liz and Jake. Half a dozen people Liz doesn’t recognize are gathered around as Oscar’s fingers dance across the keys.

Liz tells Kate, “Maggie said she wasn’t coming tonight.”

“Thanks for letting me know. I thought she might pass,” Kate nods. “Glad you came out. She is all right though?”

Liz nods. “Yeah, just tired.”

Kate holds out a hand, “I’m stacking coats in the bedroom.”

Liz passes her jacket and turns at the sound of Adam’s raised voice, “You can’t do that, Oscar. It’s illegal!”

“Nick isn’t home very much, but when he is, he needs his news hit, Oz.” Kate turns to Oscar, wagging a finger. “So don’t be doing anything that’s gonna endanger my Internet connection.”

“I’m only downloading “Sita Sings the Blues”.”

“All right, then. Except already I’ve got it, so stop using my bandwidth.”

Adam is aghast. “But it’s piracy if you download movies.”

Oscar says, “No it isn’t.”

“He’s right, Adam.” Kate nods. “It’s Creative Commons.”

“Not really. How could that work for a movie?”

“You know,” Adam’s friend Dave says, “I remember reading that George Lucas didn’t get rich from Star Wars, he got rich from Star Wars merch.”

“Yeah,” says Jake, “I heard that too.”

Liz adds, “I put photos on Flickr under a CC license.”

“But why?” asks Adam.

“When I take pictures I want people to see the good ones. If I put them online then that happens. It’s that simple.”

“But how can you make a living if you give stuff away?”

“I get paid when I get hired to do work.”

“If your pictures are free on Flickr, why would anyone hire you?”

“My Flickr pics are an online portfolio. They show prospective clients just how good a photographer I am. And that’s what gives them reason to hire me.”

“But why pay for what they can get for free.”

“They only get free what I put out there. Stock photos often don’t cut it. Newspapers and magazines cover events. Insurance companies need proof if the claimant is a fraud. Performers want original album art. You can’t get custom photographs online for free.”

“And what about music?”

“I don’t know about music.”

Oscar asks, “Do you buy music you didn’t like?”

“Of course not, I only buy music I like.”

“And how do you know what you like?”

“Actually, I …” Adam stops, thinking. “Point taken. I never really thought it through.”

Kate stuffs her fingers in her mouth and emits a loud piercing whistle. Everybody stops dead and looks over at her. Looking pointedly at Oscar, Kate says, “I am sick to death of copyright. You guys wanna argue it to death, do it at lunch on your own time. Who’s up for watching Sita? Show of hands.” Kate looks and all hands have shot up.

“Okay, good.” Kate passes bowls of snack food as Oscar hooks the cables from the large screen TV to her laptop.

Dave tells Adam, “Not a bad idea, Sita‘s a lot of fun and it has been pretty tense around here lately.”

“I could use a little relaxing.” agrees Liz, a little surprised to hear the guys have found the last few days tense.

“At least they caught the guy.” says Kate.

“Have they?” Liz asks. “They’ve caught somebody. But what’s to say this is the right guy?”

“Gee thanks Liz. Just when I was starting to feel safer.”

“Sorry, Kate, I’m not trying to freak you out, I’m just saying it’d be good to keep being careful.”

“Of course it is the guy.” insists Adam. “The police wouldn’t have arrested him if it wasn’t.”

“They caught Boris yesterday,” says Jake. “Wasn’t him.”

“Maybe they’ll settle for anybody just so life could return to normal?” suggests Kate.

Liz says, “Kate’s right. The cops have to be under even more pressure than the school is to get the rapist caught.”

“But if they’ve got the wrong guy,” says Jake, “Then it still isn’t safe.”

“That would suck,” says Kate.

Oscar flicks off the lights so the dusky cartoon goddess shows up more clearly against the wall. “Okay, who wants to watch the movie?” asks Oscar.

Dave starts clapping like a wild man and in moments the rest follow suit. Everyone moves their chairs around so they can see the picture to its best advantage. Liz notes Jake’s sour look.

“Something wrong?” she whispers.

“Krystal is supposed to be coming.” says Jake quietly. Liz tactfully looks away with smile as the movie begins. Oscar douses the remaining light, leaving only a hint of light trickling under the kitchen door so the wall projection is revealed in stunning colour.

“Where’s Ethan?” Jake whispers to Liz.

Liz doesn’t want to explain she didn’t invite Ethan, so she touches her finger to her lips in the universal admonition to silence.

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“Wow. that was an awesome movie, Oz.” Liz says as Oscar unlocks the door to Fyfield House.

“You know, I read about ‘Sita Sings the Blues‘ in Tech Dirt,” says Jake, “But I had no idea how funny it would be.”

Oscar sighs. “The animation is what gets me. So beautifully well done. Whenever I watch something like that I curse my parents for neglecting to bequeath me the slightest touch of artistic talent.”

“Have you ever tried to draw or anything, Oz?”

Oscar nods. “Years of persistence and I’ve barely mastered stick figures. And XKCD has that covered.”

“We all have stuff we’re not good at.”

“True.” Oscar shrugs as he locks the door behind them. “That’s it for me then. Night kiddies.”

“Me too,” says Liz. I am pooched.” She knows if she sits up with Jake he’ll want the lowdown on Ethan, so she hoofs it to the staircase tossing them a wave over her shoulder.

“I’m just gonna zone out with the tube, then.” Jake says, clearly not happy to be ditched, watching Oz head down the hall to his room. “Night guys.”

When Liz opens the door to their room she sees Amelia’s not back yet, but nothing is marked on the calendar. Amelia’s next scheduled shift isn’t until tomorrow night.

As Liz undresses she feels a little uneasy. Is the right guy in jail? Where is Amelia? Her roomie should be back, it’s after eleven on a school night. Amelia shouldn’t be running around out there alone, darn it.

Climbing into bed, Liz sets her alarm, then grabs the beat up paperback off the night stand, admitting to herself that she’s every bit as bad as Maggie. She tries to read but it’s hard to concentrate. The heroes are negotiating a tricky cave system, and Le Cagot is ragging on Nikolai. It’s a fun bit and she loves the larger than life character of the gruff Basque poet.

What a romantic. She’d love to find a man like him.

Or would she?

Ethan. Half of her wishes Ethan was here right now and half of her wishes he wasn’t such a good kisser. The last thing she needs is to think about Ethan.

Setting the book down, she reaches for the fanny pack and pulls out her cell. About to phone, it occurs to her that maybe Amelia’s out getting lucky or something. She has been spending a lot of time with Eric. Maybe she’s getting over her crush on Jose. Better not to call. Instead Liz Tweets:

@ameliawrites Hey girl what’s your ETA?

Liz smiles thinking how much her Mom would give her a hard time for using the word “girl.” The older generations just get so hung up on non essentials.  Still, it’s worrying that there is no response. Thank God Mom doesn’t tweet.  It would be too creepy having Mom lurking.  Still no response.  Maybe she could go back down and watch TV with Jake.  Just too tired.

Liz props the phone on the table, plugging it into the charger to keep it online, just in case. Picking up the the book again, Liz reads until she drops off to sleep.

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