Antiheroes 29

Aurora sat on the couch, cross-legged, staring at the TV. She had zoned out three or so inane programs ago, and was now closer to asleep than awake. She felt better, though. The black cloud that had settled on her a few months back had brightened to more of a dark grey, which many years of experience suggested was her version of ‘OK.’ It wasn’t great, but it was manageable. It was light enough to bother with, at least.
The door opened, and she heard footsteps on the wooden floor. Gray, back from work. He was sick of his job, he told her every time he got home, but he didn’t know what else he could do — he wasn’t exactly qualified for anything. She had been surprised when he decided not to go to college, to move to New York instead. She had asked him, at the time, what he planned to do there, and he had just shrugged.

“Something else,” he had said. “Something different.”

But without a degree, he had had to keep on doing basically what he had been doing at home. Instead of working in his dad’s shop, he was now fixing up computers for a bunch of ninth-graders and their middle-aged teachers, but the principle was the same, and he was just as bored by it. At least he had a job, though — her plans, on moving here, had been even more half-assed, since she had basically just followed his lead. She’d found a gig stacking shelves, so that she could pay the rent on a tiny room in someone else’s apartment, but after her weeks in hospital, there was no way they would take her back. She couldn’t keep staying at Gray’s place rent-free, but for the moment, it didn’t really seem like she had a choice.

Gray interrupted her reverie, flopping down beside her with a beer in each hand. He held one out to her.

“What’re we watching?” He asked.

“Don’t know,” she told him, taking the drink. “How was work?”

“Boring. Annoying. One of the teachers had to ask me how to turn the sound on his computer.”

“Good lord.”

“Yeah.” He turned to look at her. “I know I don’t make it sound all that appealing, but have you thought about looking for a job?”

She looked down at her hands, fiddled with the label on her beer. “I know I need to, you’ve been too generous already, but, I, I just, can’t, at the moment, you know?”

“Oh my god, Aur,” he said, shaking his head furiously. “This isn’t about rent. You can stay here as long as you need, no matter what, you know that.”

“Still…” She sighed. “You need the room. You need someone to move in who can help out.”

“I need you to be safe.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “No, Aur, I just think — something to do might be good for you, you know? You’re in here all day, alone. It can’t be helping.”

She hung her head, didn’t say anything.

“Even a volunteer thing, maybe? You could work at an animal shelter or something.”

“That might actually help,” she said, lips twitching up in a half-smile. “Who could be depressed around puppies?”

“Who indeed.” He stood up, suddenly. “I’m going to start dinner. But think about it, OK?”

She nodded. “Yeah. OK.”