Page 19 of Spread Your Wings

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sammy’s mother dropped him off at his apartment building after dinner and a long chat over steaks and fries. He’d expected more of a show when he came out, but his mom didn’t seem disappointed, or even surprised.

“Love you. Have a good night,” she said as he climbed out of her Mercedes.

“Love you, too.”

He needed a shower, a shave, and a few hours with his journal, writing out what he wanted to do with his life.

Instead of silence behind his third-floor apartment door, music blared. Techno crap. It sounded like something Gavin would play.

“What the fuck?”

He tried the knob. Locked. He tried his key. It still fit in the lock, but it wouldn’t turn. He didn’t know what he would find if he knocked on the door, so he went back toward the elevator. He could call the police from the landlord’s office.

The main floor office was filled with natural light. The black granite tiles reflected the sunset, nearly blinding Sammy as he entered.

“You’re back,” the landlord said. He had bushy eyebrows and thick black hair.

Sammy thought they’d had a decent relationship as landlord and tenant.

Today, his landlord’s brows knit together above the black rims of his Buddy Holly glasses.

He grabbed a box from the shelf behind him and tossed it at Sammy.

“Here’s your mail. You didn’t tell me you were subletting. ”

Subletting? No wonder he was angry. “I’m not,” Sammy said. “In fact, my boyfriend moved out around the same time I left.”

The landlord huffed. “Tell him that.”

“What?”

“He’s still here. You thought he moved out?”

Sammy nodded. “He broke up with me. Sent me a letter in Sarajevo. Said he was moving to College Park.”

“Well, any time he wants to make that happen, good riddance. He’s loud and obnoxious. Four noise complaints since you left. I would kick him out on his ass myself, but I thought he was paying rent.”

“I’m still paying rent.” Sammy crossed his arms over his chest to hide his clenched fists in his armpits. “I had no idea.”

“I can help you kick him out,” he said. “Or we can call the police. They’ll ask for thirty days’ notice, of course.”

“I can’t live with him for thirty days.”

The landlord grinned. “I never understood why you lived with him at all. He’s a leech.”

Sammy nodded. “I see that now.”

“I have another place for rent, a little further from CNN.”

“But closer to the university?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll take it.”

The landlord laughed. “I haven’t even told you about it yet. Off Forsyth Street, near Woodruff Park. Two bedrooms, two baths. Twenty-second floor. Wood floors. Renovated building. Pleasant view.”

“How’s the air conditioning?” Sammy asked.

“Excellent.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me how much it costs?”

“If it gets me away from Gavin, it doesn’t even matter.”

“I’ll keep it the same price as what you pay now for the first year’s lease. After that, we’ll renegotiate.”

“Sounds good.”

They shook hands to close the deal, and then the landlord handed him a clipboard with the lease agreement. While Sammy read the fine print, the landlord picked up the phone. “Time to call the cops and start the eviction process.”

Moving was easy enough. His mom called a moving service while the landlord dealt with Gavin, asking him to leave while Sammy packed his stuff.

They had his bed, bookshelf, and boxes of possessions stacked into a van in just over an hour.

All without seeing Gavin. Sammy thought he would complete the move without ever seeing the guy again, but he wasn’t that lucky.

Gavin returned to the apartment just as Sammy handed his defunct key to the landlord.

“You’re back early,” Gavin said, head held high, a haughty sneer twisting his lips. “Couldn’t cut it in Sarajevo?”

“I’m not a war correspondent,” Sammy said. “Not that it’s any of your business. What happened to your new boyfriend?”

“I thought he’d invited me to stay with him. He didn’t see it that way.”

Sammy shrugged. “You could move back in with your parents for a while.”

“Nah. I’ll find a place. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m not.” Sammy grinned, feeling the truth in those words. He really didn’t care where Gavin ended up. Gavin was no longer his concern. “Call me if I missed anything. Or you can leave it with the landlord when you move out.”

“Have a great life.” The words had a sarcastic bite to them.

“You too,” Sammy said, hoping he sounded sincere.

He shouldn’t have tried so hard to be nice to the asshole. Sammy borrowed his landlord’s phone to check his messages. When he dialed the old number, he heard three annoying music notes. A robotic voice said, “We’re sorry, your call cannot be completed as dialed.”

Shit. How will Mustafa contact me if my phone’s disconnected?

Next, Sammy called the phone company. They refused to reinstate the number at a new residence unless he paid Gavin’s outstanding bill. Gavin had switched the apartment’s phone number and then missed the next two payments.

“You can have the number on June first,” the phone service representative said.

“Go without a phone for over a month?”

“If you want that number.”

“Fine.”

“Problems?” the landlord asked when he finished the call.

Sammy gave a description of Mustafa and asked the landlord to keep a lookout for him. He seemed a little disappointed when he learned Sammy had another boyfriend, but seemed willing to help.

“If nothing else, he knows where I work,” Sammy said to reassure himself.

Two hours later, Sammy looked around his new apartment.

The floors were beechwood with an almost orange glow to them.

The open floor plan and white walls seemed too spacious for Sammy’s few possessions.

The sectional couch and armchairs had been Gavin’s and stayed at the old apartment.

Sammy would need to go furniture shopping.

He could wait, though. He was an adult now, and his adult dreams didn’t require instant gratification.

He had time. He wanted Mustafa to help him pick out furniture, to make the apartment theirs.

If Mustafa ever found Sammy again. No. When . Sammy had faith.