
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
My Roommate Teaches Me - 1. Hello Strangers
I hate the 4th of July. This past fourth, the world turned upside-down. Almost 7 weeks later it turned inside-out. I see my life in three phases. 1) Before July 4th, 2) The 6 weeks and 6 days between that and August 21st, and 3) August 21st to now, just after Thanksgiving after my 14th birthday. Oh, I guess I should tell you who I am: I'm Domenico Martini, and I've been at the Stephen Walsh School for Boys since that August day. That's where I'll start the story, but you'll find out more about phases 1 and 2 shortly.
Phase 3 - Day 1
My Aunt Carmela and Uncle Bob had just dropped me off at the Stephen Walsh School for Boys. It would have been nice of them to stay for my orientation, but they couldn't be bothered putting up with any task that deals with inconvenient me. Mostly Uncle Bob. It was apparently enough for him to drive me into town, spend a night in a local motel, then dump me off here. It was my Aunt and Uncle rather than my parents because their death was my entry into phase 2 of my life. It's almost 9 AM and there I sat in the gymnasium, along with the other J through Q's, waiting for the last two students that will share the dorm floor with us.
I'm supposed to find out who my roommate is going to be in this session. He's one of the last two. Needless to say, I can hardly wait. No, not really. I don't even want to be here, but being almost fourteen, did I have a choice? Not a chance. One of the remaining two boys enters the gym and the upper-class student who will watch us ninth graders points toward me. Well, probably the empty seat next to me. Great, he looks like he's six and a half feet tall. OK, maybe just a little under six feet, but compared to my 5 foot 2, 105 pounds, he may as well be seven feet. I'm short, skinny, wear glasses, and could have been voted the student most likely to be picked on at the start of every school year. Probably was without my knowing it. It looks like I'll be spending the majority of my days with my primary tormentor. I try to look cheerful as he comes to sit next to me, but I think I fail miserably. He seems cheerful enough for the entire second floor. That could mean two things: one, he's happy to be rooming with a runt he can pick on all the time, or two, he's honestly happy to be here and might like me. I'm betting on what's behind door number 1.
"Hi. I'm Jake Mason. I guess we'll be roommates."
"Looks that way. I'm Domenico Martini."
"Yeah, I'm really Jacob, but I go by Jake. What do you go by?"
"Domenico."
"Not Dom, or Dominic?"
"No. I really hate it when people shorten my name."
"Domenico it is. Why do you seem so sad?"
I'm saved for the moment when the last boy arrives, and our floor monitor rounds us all up to head for our rooms.
There are ten rooms on each floor. Nine doubles and a single. I wish I was getting the single. That's for the floor monitor. Jake and I are in 208. We get to the door and Jim Parkins, who I find out is our floor monitor, hands us each a key.
"Get settled in. Get to know each other and be back in the gym by twelve for lunch. We'll all head over to the cafeteria together."
OK, here it comes. The first torments. Smiley (Jake) unlocks the door and he and I carry our overnight bags into the room. The rest of our possessions are stacked in the middle of the room. It looks like my Aunt and Uncle went to my old house and packed up everything that was in my room. I have 6 boxes to Smiley's 3.
"Wow. You've got a lot of stuff. Did you leave anything at home?"
He said that with a lively tone of voice. I can almost believe he was joking with me.
"It really does look like everything I own. I guess my Aunt and Uncle just packed up my room and shipped it here."
"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean anything by that. I was thinking of it as a joke. But if it's for real, I bet you've got a hell of a story."
"Hell describes it well."
"Ouch. Hopefully, I can change that for you. I'm like an organization freak, or at least that's what my friends at home tell me. So, you live with your Aunt and Uncle?"
"No. I live with you."
"No, I mean back at home."
"I don't know that yet. I suppose I will live with them when I'm not here. Haven't found that out yet."
"Oh, wow! I can't wait to hear your story. I bet it's wild."
"You could say that. I'm here because nobody wants me. Why are you stuck here?"
"Oh shit. Well, I wanted to be here. Two of my older brothers go here. They're in 11th and 12th grade, so I probably won't see them all that much. We live in Flat Creek, right on the lake. Maybe you can come back home with me sometime. I guess if your Aunt and Uncle say OK."
"They probably won't care. Probably even prefer it if I stay here for four years and never leave."
"Wow, sounds like you got it really tough. I'm sorry dude."
"Thanks."
"So, I'm 14. My birthday's the 4th of July, so I get fireworks, barbecues, all sorts of shit on my birthday."
I cringe when he mentions the 4th of July. He must have noticed.
"Don't like fireworks or something?"
"No, it's not that. I'll tell you later."
"OK. Which bed do you want? We can talk while we're putting our shit away."
The bed in my old bedroom is what I really want. But that part of my life is over.
"I don't really care. You pick first."
"OK. I Like being by the door. So, is that's OK with you?"
I'm getting nervous. This guy is being too polite to be for real. I expect I'm in for something.
"That's fine."
We start putting things away, I quickly realize I'm not going to have room for everything. I guess a lot can go under the bed.
"Anyway, my brothers told me it would be a good idea if we decided on some room rules, to limit any potential conflicts. Do you want to hear what I started with?"
I'm thinking rule number one is something like 'do everything I tell you to do.'
"I guess. I didn't get much time to even think about this place. I just found out I was coming here yesterday. Hopefully your list isn't too terrible."
"What the fuck? Sounds like your Aunt and Uncle hate you. Anyway, the rules shouldn't be terrible. It would make my life horrible and lonely if I did anything to purposely piss you off. OK, rule one: Neither of us is to try to force the other to do anything he doesn't want to."
"Uncle for sure. But you're not setting me up for a later prank?"
"Why would I want to prank you? I hardly know you."
"It just seems like everyone else I know would do that."
"I'm not everyone else. I hope you'll understand and believe that in time."
Am I really not rooming with your typical teen jerk?
"OK, rule two: No secrets. I don't mean we have to share every little detail of our lives before now. I mean going forward, as it relates to the two of us. If we're going to live together, we have to be honest with each other."
Is this guy for real? I just nod and let him continue.
"Rule three: What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."
"We're in... shit, I don't even know the name of the town. But I'm pretty sure it isn't Vegas."
"It's an expression. It means what happens here in room 208 stays here. Nobody else needs to know unless we both agree to share something. And the school's in Dawsonville."
"OK, I guess so."
"Rule four is kind of in two parts and gets into the personal side of things. We have to be, or to get, comfortable being naked together. Being naked extends to jerking off too. I don't want to walk down the hall to the bathroom to change all the time. I'd guess you wouldn't either. And I'm sure neither of us wants to go hide in a semi-public bathroom two or three times a day to get off."
"Um, except for my brother, and my parents when I was little, nobody has ever seen me naked. That's going to be tough for me."
"Well, we can work on that, maybe not from day one, but it should be settled soon. How old is your brother?"
"He was eleven."
"What's his... Was? This is part of your life that's been hell I suppose?"
"Yeah. It is."
I start sharing my personal hell with Jake. He's graduated from Smiley. For now. Reminds me a little of Stefano. Very talkative.
Phase 2 - Day 1
Stefano and I woke up on the 4th of July just like any other summer weekday. Wake up at 7:30, get ready for the day and head into the kitchen for breakfast. Mom drops us off at day care on her way into work, so it's around 8:30 when we leave the house. As usual, Stefano is a chatterbox, replaying everything he did the day before. I'm usually very quiet, so it's not a problem for me just listening. Stefano is two years younger than me, but because he takes after dad and I take after mom, he's about an inch taller and maybe twenty pounds heavier than me. I'm lucky that he looks up to me, not literally, of course, and he knows he'll get it from dad if he tries to take advantage of his size. Anyway, it's a typical day at day care - a little game play, a little schooling, even though it's summer, reading, quiet time alone, etc.
Mom picks us up on the way home from work a little after 5:30 and we head home. We're going out for pizza for dinner tonight because we're going to the Valdosta fireworks display after dinner. Valdosta is the next big town over from where we live. After dad gets home and freshens up from work, we go to the local pizza parlor, eat our dinner and head out for the show. The fireworks display is really cool - lots of colors and designs, maybe a little too loud, but I can put up with that once a year.
After the fireworks while we're driving home, a teen driver and four of his buddies, who were drinking all afternoon, come around a curve on the wrong side of the road directly in front of us. At least that's what I was told. I had my head down on the seat with a slight headache from the fireworks' noise. I guess that's why I was saved. Mom, dad, and Stefano are all killed in the crash, along with all five kids in the other car.
July 6
I wake up and realize I'm not home. It takes a minute for my eyes to focus and before they do I think I'm seeing mom and dad.
"Mom, dad, what happened? Where am I? Where's Stefano?"
"Sweetheart, it's your Aunt Carmela and Uncle Bob."
"Don't baby the boy, Car. You're in a hospital Dom. You and your family were in a car accident the night before last. They're all dead. We're all the family you got left."
I hate it when people shorten my name, but don't say anything. Can't say anything, I'm stunned.
"Bob, you don't have to be mean."
"Just telling it like it is."
I don't hear anymore since I'm crying, but somewhere along the line Bob yelled at me to stop crying and grow up.
"I don't want a crybaby living with us, Car."
"But Bob, we're all he's got."
"Well, he'll be in the hospital for a while, so nothing needs to be decided yet."
At this point, fortunately for me because I'm on some pain medicine for a broken arm and both legs, a dislocated shoulder and a wicked concussion, I pass out.
*************************************
For the next six weeks or so, I'm rehabilitating in the hospital, learning to walk again, getting my balance back. The head injury threw that all out of whack. Fortunately, none of the breaks were really bad so they healed quickly, but I do limp a little. Nothing more is said about my future living arrangements, so I figure I'll be going to live with them, although it's not like they came to visit every day to talk about it. Once a week, if I was lucky. Or unlucky would be more accurate with Uncle Boob's attitude. That's not a typo; he doesn't deserve the respect it would take to use his correct name. August 20th rolls around, and I'm deemed healthy enough to be discharged. We leave the hospital, but I quickly figure out we're not heading in the direction of their house.
"Where are we going? Did you move?"
"We're not going to our house. You're going to go to a boarding school a few hours away. We'll stay in a motel tonight and take you to the school tomorrow."
"What? Why can't I go live with you?"
Although the way Uncle Boob has been treating me since the accident, I don't know why I even thought that was an option. He lost any respect to be called by his proper name. Yeah, Uncle Boob it is.
"We don't have the room for you, plus your mom and dad had enough life insurance and equity in the house to let you go to a good boarding school. Your Aunt Carmela is the trustee for a fund they set up for you and your brother if something happened to them. Obviously, your brother won't need it, so it's all yours."
Holy smokes, that was fucking mean! I try not to cry. I guess he was wishing for a windfall from the accident and is ticked off at me because he's not getting anything.
"So, I don't have a house? But I have a lot of money?"
"In a way sweetheart."
Grumbling almost under his breath, Boob says, "Don't coddle the boy, Car. He has to learn to grow up."
We're quiet the rest of the way to the motel, Uncle Boob because he's ticked off, Aunt Carmela, so she doesn't make him angrier, and me, because I'm trying to come to terms with not being wanted. Although I think if it was just Aunt Carmela, I wouldn't be going to a boarding school. Aunt Carmela is my dad's younger sister. Uncle Boob is just the jerk-off she married.
We have breakfast at the Denny's next to the motel. Uncle Boob's generous enough to let me get a breakfast special. He probably sees this as a celebration for getting rid of me. Before we leave, Aunt Carmela hands me a couple things.
"Domenico, here's a MAC card so you can buy the things you need. The trust isn't a billion dollars so don't go overboard. There's a daily cash limit of $50 and a daily charge limit of $200. I didn't think you'd need more than that. I'll get updates and the statements, so I'll make sure there's always something in there for you to have."
Boob, still grumbling, complains, "Even that's too much."
Aunt Carmela ignored him, "If you need more, here's a cell phone. It has our numbers already programmed in. If there's any emergency, or a real need to spend more, call one of us."
I'd have to be dying to call Uncle Boob. And maybe not even then.
"Thanks."
We arrive at the school and Uncle Boob lets me out.
"Your clothes and stuff should already be in your room. Let's go Car, it's a long drive."
"Goodbye, Domenico. Call me if you need anything."
And with that, they're gone. I don't even know if I'm ever going to see them again.
Phase 3 - Day 1
"Holy shit. That sucks big time. I can see why you call him Uncle Boob. Although I'd be calling him Uncle Asshole."
"Well, I don't normally cuss out loud. I think when I said ‘hell’ before, that might have been a first."
"Really? No offense, but did your parents keep you in a hole or something?"
He said it jokingly, so I knew he wasn't trying to be mean.
"Ha! No, but they were pretty protective."
"Hey, I'm really sorry about what happened to your family. I'll definitely mention you to my parents on the first family day and see if you can come to the house sometime - maybe even all the breaks."
Once again, he noticed a cringe when he said ‘family day.’
"Oh, Domenico. Sorry. I guess mentioning family day wasn't the smartest thing to do."
"It's OK. I have to get used to things like that. Like Uncle Boob was fond of saying, ‘I need to grow up.’"
"Not all at once though. I'll try to be a little more sensitive, but I'm a motormouth, in case you haven't noticed. Shit's going to slip out."
"Stefano was really talkative too. You remind me of him a little in that way."
"I hope that's going to be a good thing."
"Yeah, I think so. Um, if I ask you something that you think may be silly, could you not laugh at me for it?"
"Sure. Like I said, we have to get along."
"You mentioned 'jerking off' before. What does that mean?"
Next up - "Lesson One"
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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