A few weeks had passed, and the tension in the home was now easing up now that I was earning a steady pay roll. He was now starting to try to hook me up with guys he knew around the city, and I had tried going out with several of them, only to find them to be goody goody two shoes that nauseated me.
"Maddi, my old roommate from college has recently moved in," he said enthusiastically. "He hasn't been in a stable relationship for a while, and I didn't think it would hurt if you would at least talk to him."
Honestly, the thought of meeting on of Tristan's college boys enthused me; college boy equals party boy, and we all know how big of a party animal I am. I told Tristan that I would try to stop by after work and meet him, and Tristan wrote down his address and phone number for me.
"Great!" I exclaimed, maybe a little too desperately. But I recently realized, that, for the first time in my life, I wanted to settle down and raise a family. But it couldn't hurt to have a fun man to be married to, now would it?
Tristan raised a single eyebrowsat me and said, "In those clothes?"
I eyed myself up and down and peered at him skeptically. "Yeah... what's wrong with my clothes?"
"I'm not gonna lie, Mad, ya look like a whore."
Maybe I did, I thought, and chuckled to myself. A guess it couldn't hurt to get a bit of a makeover, but I definitely wasn't going to do anything drastic.
I collected my daily pay from the head honcho, and excitedly headed towards the salon to make myself over. I kept trying to depict what this college boy would look like, and I wanted to make sure I didn't look too... easy when I met him.
I approached the call box and buzzed up to his room. "Uh, hey, college boy. This is Tristan's sis, Maddi."
I paused for a moment waiting for him to respond, and with a hum of the device, I heard a deep voice from the other end say, "Okay, I buzzed you in Maddi."
When I first saw him, I thought that he looked like a goody two shoes, and I ended up being right. He was aiming to be a journalist for the New Sim Times, and he had worked really hard to get there. Immediately, I felt foolish for even thinking he would be slightly interested in me, and I coaxed myself by saying that he wasn't my type anyway.
We talked for a while, and I guess you could say we were friendly acquaitances, like the ones you smile at in a grocery store, maybe stop and chat a little bit, but forget about ten minutes later. I didn't expect him to call me back, that was for sure.
When I came home, Tristan was on his cell. It was apparent that he was talking a romantic interest, with all the cooing and oohing that was going on over there. My stomach heaved. How nauseating.
But, as I walked away, I couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. My brother, the heartbreaker, was having a better dating life than I could ever hope for.