I slip off the mask and throw it at him, not that the small piece of fabric does any damage as it flutters into his lap.

“Mark my words, Benjamin Get-Hard the Fourth, vengeance will be mine!”

He pretends to scowl at me. “Don’t tell me that name has stuck.”

“Like superglue, baby.”

With an overly dramatic sigh, he hands me our current book, Tina Fey’s Bossypants. I decided we’d take a break from our epic sci-fi fantasy adventures every so often to read a nonfiction.

That doesn’t mean it has to be academic.

An hour in, my phone rings. If I’m with Ben and I get a text, I always ignore it. I don’t like staring at a screen when I’m with a friend or family member. I have the same No Checking Texts rule for Marcus, Terra, Pops, and Curt. But calls are different; they’re more immediate, carrying a sense of urgency. And they aren’t as common.

“Sorry. I’m just gonna take this real quick.”

He nods and accepts the book when I hand it to him. My screen flashes Terra’s name.

“Hey, Terra. What’s up?”

“You with your man?” No greeting, just straight to embarrassing me.

I glance over at Ben, but I can’t tell if his smile is just polite or if he heard what Terra said.

“I’m with Ben. Is that why you’re calling?” No comment on him being my man, which he most definitely is not. I think my roommate and I might need to have a talk.

“Nope. Just asking. So, I have bad and good and bad and good news.”

“That’s a lot of news.”

“Yeah, so here’s the deal. Bad news: a pipe broke at the bar. Good news: we get the weekend off work while it gets fixed and they clean up the flood damage. Bad news: we don’t work; we don’t get paid. Good news: Curt has insurance and contractor buddies, so the bar should be good by next week.”

My mind goes on a roller coaster with her as she reveals each of those news nuggets. Most people would be psyched for a weekend off. And, sure, I like having free time. But, now, I’m going to be lower on funds than I expected. Especially sucky with the holidays coming up. Guess that means more handmade gifts this year. Unless I want to give up a few meals.

“How bad is it?”

“Just some mild water damage on the first floor. And a hole in the wall needs to get patched. Still, it’s enough of a safety hazard that he’s decided to play it safe by closing.”

“Okay. Got it.”

“So, with the whole weekend open, maybe you can actually go out. Like, on a date or something. Do you remember what those are?”

“Thanks. You’re a great friend.” The sarcasm in my voice is thick.

“I’m just saying. Okay, I’ll let you go. Give Ben a lingering French kiss for me.” She hangs up, and I regret not leaving the room with my phone when I first saw she was the caller.