My Straightedge Prince: Chapter 3
Illustrations by Jana Surkova
Cleo and Adriana are co-dependent roommates who spend their days drinking enough to enjoy swiping on Tinder for hours on end. Their friendship begins to waver when Cleo begins to date Adriana’s former co-worker Paul—a straight-edge vegan—whilst simultaneously trying to expunge a DUI from her record before applying to graduate school.
Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The good thing, Cleo thought, about dating a man who doesn’t drink is that I wake up fresh. Put that in my workbook, nerds! It’s Saturday, but if I’d spent the night with him on a Wednesday, I would’ve been able to go to work, easily. This is sustainable or, at least, will be once I finish the book. I can probably knock out two “days” of the book today. But upon arriving home, Cleo found that Adriana had beaten her to the book.
Listen to this, Adriana said, punctuating a passage (Day 16) from the book with laughter: “Bob woke in his room, littered with cans and clothes. He realized he was living in a state of decay, a darkness and drudgery caused by his drinking. He needed help and ventured out into the night. It was the coldest and darkest night he’d ever known, the moon barely visible through the clouded mist. Bob found a convenience store and called 911. When the ambulance arrived, the paramedics laughed at him. ‘You can’t afford this, you junkie. Just sleep it off,’ they said to him and he slinked away into an alley, alone and without purpose.”
What are you doing, asked Cleo.
I’m helping you, obviously. I can do some of the book while you’re not home and then you’ll have more time and we can get back to normal, she said to Cleo. Anyway, it asks what I learned from Bob’s story. Adriana, smirking, handed the workbook to Cleo:
“Bob’s story makes it clear that we need a single-payer system. With universal healthcare, Bob wouldn’t be afraid to get into the ambulance nor would the paramedics feel inclined to point out that he can’t afford it. Our current privatized system dehumanizes those in need of treatment and puts the onus of denying care in the hands of caregivers themselves.”
She’d written in pen.
You know these answers get read by, like, South Carolina cops, right? Like if they don’t like my answers then my DUI doesn’t get expunged and I can’t get another healthcare job, Cleo said her voice wobbling with irritation.
Apologizing to Cleo about the healthcare answer in a real way would’ve been easy. Adriana hadn’t intended to make Cleo’s life harder, and actually, she didn’t really mind doing the workbook, probably because it wasn’t hers to do. It gave her day some structure, preventing her from spending all day sending Tinder boys GIFs from Heathers (ignoring any men who would respond with, “Is that the chick from Stranger Things?”) and absentmindedly refreshing her email to see what her next temp job would be. And it’s not like she’d been a smart-ass on all her answers—when she encountered, “People usually go about life not aware of the trials or tragedies that lie ahead. Why is each day important?” she’d answered earnestly, writing about Cleo’s job and how it allows her to make the most of helping people at her job each day. Something very cliche, very earnest, very workbook.
Even though she was home—Cleo could hear the hum of her AC—Adriana texted Cleo rather than just coming into her room.
im going to that heathers screening at west end
i cant tonite :(
paul is coming w/ me if yr not ~too busy~ for him
Cleo rolled her eyes. She started typing then backspaced and started typing again, knowing that seeing the typing bubbles and not getting a message would put Adriana on edge. She did it twice more before sending her message.
have fun w/ paul since yr buds now
She flipped to her bookmark and let the lessons of Day 21 wash over her. “Where you choose to live (in growth, stagnation, or decay) has a profound effect on you and others. A society prospers when its citizens choose to live in growth, and declines as more choose to live in stagnation and decay. Most chemical abusers end up living in decay and wreak havoc on society, including death on the roads.” Cleo uncapped her pen. The topic of the lesson: Boredom.
Cleo went a record two days avoiding Adriana by staying late at work and locking herself in her room with the workbook. But at some point during that second day, Cleo had to eat something and the roommates crossed paths in the kitchen. Adriana was perched at the table, painting her nails glittery gold and drinking a shandy. Paul wants to know why you’ve been avoiding him, Adriana said to Cleo, breaking the silence.
Cleo ignored the question, Why do you keep, like, showing off that you’re hanging with him?
So I shouldn’t invite Paul over to watch True Life tonight?
I mean, whatever, do whatever you want, said Cleo, attempting chillness.
We can include you, if you want. True Life: I Have a DUI.
Cleo glared at her friend. That’s not even a real episode, don’t be a dick.
It’s not like we’re hooking up, said Adriana.
Are you?
I just said we weren’t.
Right, well, that makes it seem like you are and that would be really messed up, Adriana. Taking a bag of baby carrots and a shandy from the fridge Cleo left the kitchen thinking—almost jokingly—Adriana is being extremely below 500.
When she came back to the clinic, Mrs. Crackers weighed 10.2 lbs too many. Cleo broke the news to her, she’d have to return in two weeks with the final pounds shed. I feel like I’ve given them up for nothing, the patient lamented. Now I have to do it again? Cleo didn’t point out that this wasn’t really “again.” She thought about adopting some of the language from the workbook. Do you find yourself eating crackers when you’ve been paid? In certain neighborhoods? Does eating crackers help you feel numb? Give you something to do when you feel lonely? Help you loosen up and be more exciting?
Cleo thought about growth and decay: this vocabulary wasn’t very apt for her patient, as eating crackers was both literally growing and decaying Mrs. Crackers’ body. She stifled a smirk and forced her mouth into a receptionist’s smile. You’re almost there ma’am, you can do it! Cleo said, handing Mrs. Crackers her printed visit summary and ushering her out of the office.
Sitting on the streetcar, she looked at all the dicks in slacks returning home. I should text Paul, Cleo thought, pressing her thumb into the home button and unlocking her phone. She asked if he wanted to grab dinner. The typing bubble immediately popped up. Cleo held her breath.
oh, i was actually going to hang with adriana!
A couple seconds later he followed up, suggesting that Cleo join them. She screenshotted his message and sent it to Adriana.
wtf hang w/ me, im done the workbook
!!!! [sunglasses emoji 2x]
The notification bar that popped up on Adriana’s phone clouded her bubble shooter visibility. So annoyi—, she began thinking until she realized it was an invitation from Cleo. Yes! Yes of course she’d bail on Paul. She was looking forward to the only routine in her life returning. She slid her mules on and walked to the liquor store to pick up a six-pack of shandies to prepare for Cleo. How easy it could be, for her and Cleo to return to their old habits.
She took her shoes off and set her bag down, and heard a “Yoooooo” coming from Adriana’s room. Hang on, hang on! I’m just looking for my charger, Cleo said before heading down the hall. She pushed Adriana’s door open and was welcomed by the sound of a shandy cracking open. Adriana handed her the drink and said, We each get our own today.
As Cleo, drink in hand, prepared to launch herself onto Adriana’s nest of pillows and cool air, Adriana stopped her. Oh, um, could you change out of your street pants? Cleo raised her eyebrows as if to ask, what are… street pants? Adriana elaborated, Yeah, it’s just I washed my sheets today and I don’t want streetcar and gerontology grime on them, you know?
Adriana was already swiping when Cleo returned, clad in leggings. She plopped down beside her and opened the app. See anyone dece lately? Cleo asked. No, Adriana told her. She’d only seen the usual chuds, plus she was hoping maybe Paul would just introduce her to one of his friends IRL. Cleo said it was possible to find someone online. Afterall, she’d found Paul, right?
Oh, shit here’s someone for you, Cleo said, angling her phone. Gray; 31. “marxist zinester & poet looking for a fellow creative [champagne glasses emoji] let’s get revolutionary.” You’re perfect for him, a fellow creative, Cleo derided.
Adriana drank from her shandy and swiped instead of responding. Her phone buzzed. Shit, she said, laughing. Paul super-liked me. Cleo demanded that she see it, swiping through his profile on Adriana’s phone. He’d changed his bio, now it said something about wanting to find a fellow sXe cutie. Well that’s not either of us, Adriana remarked, taking her phone back.
The next morning, Adriana awoke slightly sweaty and with a light headache. It’d been about a month since she’d last drank so much, though she wasn’t quite sure. Temping made measuring time irrelevant and impossible. She pressed one palm on her forehead and with the other hand she blindly motioned at her bedside table, hoping to bump into a glass of water. She found her phone, instead. There was a text from Cleo telling Adriana she’d finished the workbook and could she please drop it off in the mail for her today, also if she could sign the affixed affidavit at the end of the book, thx bb.
She sat up. Her room was quieter than usual, and a bit hotter. The air, she thought–the only thing that could get her out of bed so quickly. Adriana shuffled to the unit to, yes, find the knob turned to “OFF” and the workbook and a pen sitting atop it. She took the book off the unit and turned it to “HIGH,” a blast of cold air hitting her midriff as she flipped to the pink sticky note marking the affidavit.
Skimming it, Adriana saw that Cleo had already filled some of it out for her: Adriana’s legal name, the date, and a phone number. But she’d forgotten to check the “Relationship to the Healed” box! Adriana ran through the options: Sponsor, Colleague, Spouse, Family, Friend, and Other. As her pen landed on the “Friend” box, Adriana noticed that Cleo, in fact, had not forgotten to fill this section out. Beside the box marked “Other,” in Cleo’s handwriting, Adriana read, “Roommate.”
If you missed the 2nd chapter, read it here. <3