No More Free Fixes

“What’s the meaning of this, Axis? You’ve been ripping us off for years, and now you’re quitting the group chat without a word? Guilty conscience much?”

“Axis, I thought we were best buds. I always had your back, but you’re not even as decent to me as the new kid.”

“Axis…”

…

My phone was bombarded with messages.

Without exception, all my former regulars, riled up by Mickey Todbury, got on my case.

I had just lain down to catch some z’s. So much for my afternoon nap.

Unlocking my phone, I scrolled through the screen.

I barely had the chance to go through the messages when my roommate called me out.

“That’s just messed up, Axis.”

It was Shane Bost, my roommate, taking the bunk across from mine.

Invading my personal space, Shane shoved his phone screen right in my face.

“Take a look. Mickey pointed out that a tube of thermal paste doesn’t cost more than a few bucks, but you had the nerve to grab at least two cans of energy drinks from us each time. How could you live with yourself?”

I sat up and stared at him long and hard.

A silent smirk played across my lips.

“Did I ask for the drinks? You practically forced them on me.”

It was their idea in the first place. They claimed they felt guilty asking me for favors all the time, so they started buying me cans of energy drinks whenever I fixed their computers.

With a new go-to guy in the picture, they had no problem acting like I’d been overcharging them the whole time.

“It’s not like you said no, did you?”

Without the least bit of shame, Shane sneered.

“Do you even realize how many energy drinks you've squeezed out of us over the last three years?”

I didn’t engage with him.

It was beneath me.

It was like all the frustration Shane had been bottling up for years finally had an outlet.

He immediately went off, tearing into me mercilessly.

“Mickey said he only charges a can of energy drink for a cleaning, and he uses genuine parts. His family runs a tech store, so he gets everything at wholesale prices.

“What about you? You’re just a college kid. Who knows what kind of junk you’ve been putting into our computers?”

I looked at him, suddenly amused by the absurdity of it all.

That was my cue to bring up the past.

“Has Mickey mentioned how long he plans to keep those rates?

“Shane, remember when your laptop got water-damaged last semester? I spent four solid hours taking it apart and drying it out, and all you got me in return was a couple of energy drinks.”

“That’s just because you never said anything about a fee!”

“Well, I never planned on taking your money in the first place.”

Truth be told, if I took the skills my dad taught me and charged market rates, I could easily pull in more than ten grand a month.