I loved how the apartment smelled on Saturday afternoons: Jean all sweaty from helping the physical therapist in the morning, the lunch we fixed, the musk of lovemaking for dessert. I was getting used to how she’d nap afterwards, sprawled naked on her back, taking up most of the bed. We’d catch up on our homework later on, maybe meet some friends this evening, more love later. The sweet life for a couple of college students.
I slid out of bed, making sure she was covered, and padded to the bathroom. It was October, still nice out, and the window was open about six inches. I slid the condom into the trash then stood at the toilet.
Maybe I should mention the poltergeist. That’s why this apartment is so cheap: it’s haunted.
To say I missed the bowl would be an understatement. About three inches from the porcelain, the stream took a right angle turn and went out the window. I had time to say, “Oh great,” before the shouting and cursing began. I finished and took a peek through the blinds: frat rats. Five or six of them.
“Dammit,” I whispered. “Now they’re gonna pound on the door and wake up Jean.” The only reply was a brief chill and a hollow sound that could have been a snicker. My poltergeist had an odd sense of humor, and didn’t like frat rats. Seeing as a hazing gone wrong ended its living phase, I could understand that. Since I also like weird humor, we reached an accommodation early on. It and Jean are okay too, one more reason why I love her.
I had just enough time to throw some clothes on before the pounding started. Jean slept on, to my surprise. It must have been really good for her. Muffled voices joined the pounding: “Open the damn door or we’ll break it down!” “You think you’re smart?” “Get out here!” “Hey, this is the apartment where —”
With a sigh, I opened the door. “What?”
The dampened frat rats froze for a moment, then screamed and ran for the stairs. Behind me, I heard a familiar sound: Jean laughing. I turned to find her in my robe, doubled over, and grinned. Her humor was infectious. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh God, Mike, you should have seen yourself just now! Eight feet tall, green, and you were holding an axe over your head! I wish I could’ve gotten a picture!”
After a minute to think about it, I sputtered and then joined the laughter. You gotta laugh about this stuff. It’s so much easier than finding an affordable, non-haunted apartment.