Free Roommates (Soulmates #1) by Hazel Kelly Page A

fewer dots in every shot.
    That's how I felt as a teenager the first time I noticed the
freckles on Jen's nose. Like Seurat wishes he'd painted something so
interesting.
    But I’d always liked things that could be appreciated from
different angles, different distances. And I liked modern art because it wasn't
the kind of art I made so I could just enjoy it without feeling the need to
compare it to my own work.
    I was admiring the use of color in Matisse’s The Parakeet and
the Mermaid when my phone started buzzing against my thigh.
    I pulled it out, silenced it, and slid it back in my pocket. A
moment later, it buzzed again. I did the same.
    However, I knew from experience it was going to go off again so
I kept it in my hand and headed for the doors to the courtyard.
    "Hello," I said, after it started ringing for the
third time.
    "What took you so long?" my dad asked in an accusatory
tone that I doubted was good for his blood pressure.
    "I was helping an old lady across the street." I could
practically hear him rolling his eyes. However, he was so tangibly obsessed
with my becoming a contributing member of society when I was younger that I couldn’t
help but find jokes about what a Good Samaritan I’d become hugely entertaining.
    It was also the only thing he couldn't argue with, which was
exciting since my dad was the kind of guy who could start an argument with the
mirror.
    "Where are you really?"
    "At the art museum,” I said. “Helping the handicapped
people get up the ramp."
    "Last try."
    "Ringing my Salvation Army bell outside the
supermarket."
    "Why do you insist on spewing such crap when you know I
have no sense of humor?"
    "Because of the lifelong pledge I took to help you loosen
up."
    He groaned.
    "Yeah, yeah. I know it hasn't been working, but I consulted
the experts and they think prune juice might help."
    "Is that a constipation joke?"
    I smiled. "See? We're making progress after all."
    "How's your sister?"
    "I don't have a sister."
    "You know what I mean. Jen. How is she?"
    "Well, it's hard to say because I don't really know how she
normally is?"
    "Normally she's bubbly and smiling and occasionally singing
to herself."
    "I'd say she's herself, then, minus the singing, but
perhaps she's just shy around people who aren't tone deaf."
    "I'm not tone deaf."
    "Whatever you say."
    "So she's fine?"
    "Yeah.” I yanked on the strings of my hoodie. “She's at her
audition right now."
    "Oh good. I hope it goes well. She really deserves a
break."
    I furrowed my brow. "Can you put my dad back on the
phone?"
    "What?"
    "What happened to Mr. What-Doesn't-Kill-You-Ma-"
    "She's strong enough already."
    I rolled my eyes at the way he said it- like he was the fucking
authority on strength.
    "Besides, she's put up with a lot of my shit over the
years, and it would be nice if someone else recognized how special she
is."
    "Have you gone soft?"
    "No."
    Maybe she'd just melted him? Like she melted everyone else around
her, myself included.
    "I just know how bad she wants this and she's delicate, you
know? I don't want her to have any setbacks, and I know what an unforgiving
industry it is that she's trying to break into."
    "How? From all your days tap dancing with Hugh
Jackman?"
    "You know what I mean."
    "I'm not sure I do."
    "Fine. Be dense. Just look after her, okay? She's not used
to being a small fish in such a massive pond."
    "Right."
    "She's trusting and naive and her street smarts are no
better than an earthworm’s."
    "Something tells me she wouldn't appreciate that."
    "All I'm saying is that I've seen her cry, and it isn't
pretty."
    "Why would she be crying?"
    "Just look after her, okay?"
    "I am. What the hell? As if I had a choice after the way
she just showed up." I flinched. I didn't want to give him the
satisfaction of knowing he got one over on me.
    "Sorry about that."
    "About what? Getting a copy of my key cut without
asking?"
    "Yeah."
    "Apology not accepted." I shook my head. "Who the
fuck do you think you are