Chapter 6: Bikini Blunders and Takeout Bonds

After work, people trickled back one by one.

The apartment came alive in the evenings—doors opening, music playing softly from someone’s phone, the smell of Panda Express takeout drifting through the air. It was a far cry from the quiet of my old dorm room.

Aubrey just greeted everyone quietly and didn’t mention that a guy had moved in.

She gave me a quick, nervous glance, then disappeared into her room, fiddling with her sleeve and avoiding eye contact. I wondered if she was worried about how the others would react.

"Hey, who put up this curtain?"

Before she finished speaking, a girl walked in—wearing next to nothing.

How little? Imagine the girls’ dorms at a Big Ten college. If you’ve never seen a college dorm, just picture the beach on spring break—Nike shorts, a Victoria’s Secret PINK tank, and a messy bun. I looked away so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash.

"Whoa."

I quickly turned my head and squeezed my eyes shut.

"Ahhhh!" The girl screamed until her voice cracked.

A flurry of footsteps came running over. Two seconds of silence, then another round of "ahhhh!"

It felt like the whole apartment had suddenly turned into a college prank—like someone had pulled the fire alarm in a freshman dorm.

Folks, ever seen a group of college roommates in a panic? That’s exactly how I felt—like the only guy in the middle of a sudden, shrieking flash mob.

I wanted to disappear. My face was on fire, and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

I started to wonder: by moving into a house full of women, was I not just making trouble for myself, but also for them?

In the summer heat—almost ninety degrees—they could have been lounging in light clothes, enjoying the AC. Now, with a guy in the house, they had to dress more conservatively.

I felt guilty, like I’d ruined their freedom just by existing. I promised myself I’d try to be as invisible as possible.

But the agent hadn’t lied—the people here were pretty nice. After finding out I was the new roommate, no one showed any real hostility.

"A new roommate? Let’s have dinner together tonight!"

The girl who spoke wore light makeup, Nike shorts, and a tank top, her long white legs ending in small, delicate feet in pink slippers—very cute.

She flashed me a bright, easy smile, and I felt my nerves settle a little. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

I’m not being a creep—I really could only look down at my feet. I was just a young man in my twenties, and this was my first time being so close to so many women.

I kept my eyes glued to the floor, afraid of accidentally staring at someone. I felt like I was walking a tightrope—one wrong move, and I’d fall.

The closest I’d ever been to a woman before was when I was six and the school nurse gave me a shot in the butt. I still remembered the sting and the way my mom tried to distract me with a Spider-Man Band-Aid.

I had no idea how to act, or where to look.

I fidgeted with my napkin, nearly knocking over my Solo cup of water, wishing I could just melt into the walls.

"Oh, this little brother is shy."

Another voice chimed in, bubbly and teasing. I couldn’t tell who it was.

I heard laughter ripple around the room, and my ears burned even hotter.

"Who hasn’t eaten? I’ll order takeout."

"I want boba!"

"I still have half a watermelon in my room."

"Don’t order boba—let’s drink!"

"I’ll get a bottle of wine."

"I have beer."

...

The conversation bounced around, everyone chiming in, overlapping, interrupting, teasing each other about their drink choices. It was chaotic but oddly comforting, like a big family dinner.

By the time the blush faded from my face, the girls had set the table—paper plates, Solo cups, pizza, rotisserie chicken, stir fry, boba, beer. The mix of cuisines felt so American, a true multicultural spread.

Someone handed me a pair of chopsticks and a napkin, and I realized they’d made room for me at the table without a second thought.

"Come on, why so shy?"

At that moment, only one thought echoed in my mind: I’m doomed.

I glanced around the table and realized I was completely outnumbered. Even Odysseus was trapped for so long by the Sirens—how could I possibly survive?