Freddy

Tony stood at the bar, filling a mug of beer. He topped it off and sent it sliding down the counter, then leaned back, his eyes fixed on the door. Matt came up behind him, his voice low. "She’s not coming through that door anytime soon."

"Who?"

"Whatever, dude. You know exactly who I’m talking about." Tony tried to move around him, but Matt wouldn’t budge. "Dude, don’t act like you don’t know."

"Gemma? She’s just Kyle’s kid sister. That is it," Tony replied.

"You are so full of it," Matt said, throwing a bar rag over his shoulder. "Tell me this: if she went to school closer, where would you be? At Kyle’s—and not because of Kyle."

Tony remained silent, shifting his gaze back to the rows of bottles behind the bar. He didn't know what to say to Matt because it was no secret how he felt; everyone could see it plainly. Admitting it out loud, however, was a hurdle he wasn't ready to clear, even to himself.

"Would you knock it off? There’s nothing between me and Gemma." Tony’s phone buzzed with a text. Good night, Tony.

Tony grinned. Good night, Shortcake. That was all he needed—confirmation she was okay.

"You see that right there?" Matt asked, gesturing toward Tony's smile. "That is not the look of someone who is just checking up on his friend's sister." He laughed.

"Whatever." Tony shoved past him to make a drink for a customer at the far end of the bar.

"When was the last time you dated anyone?" Matt pressed. "Now be honest. I'm waiting."

Tony paused to think. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on a real date. Was it a year ago? It had been just before he did the tattoo on Gemma’s shoulder. But Matt didn’t need to know that.

After closing up for the night and seeing Matt out, Tony headed upstairs to his apartment. He stripped down and collapsed into bed, falling asleep as soon as he hit the mattress.

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Gemma was jolted awake by what felt like a caffeine-charged gremlin tearing through the room. Groggily checking her phone, she groaned, "Please tell me I didn't agree to live with someone who wakes up before the roosters".

The girl glanced up at Gemma, eyebrows raised. “Wouldn’t know,” she said. “Never heard a rooster in person before.” She went right back to digging through the box, bracelets clinking softly as she sifted deeper, only a messy ponytail visible. Suddenly she popped up, triumphant, holding a pair of sneakers over her head like she’d just won a prize.

“Found them!”

“Great news,” Gemma muttered, retreating under her blanket. After a second, she peeked out again. “Wait—what exactly did you find?”

“My running shoes.” The girl was already lacing them with quick, practiced movements. “I go jogging every morning. Best time to clear the mind.” She shot Gemma a grin. “And also the best time to meet eligible men.”

“At this hour, the eligible men are probably eligible serial killers,” Gemma said, finally sitting up. “So that’s a no for jogging.” She reached for her phone on the nightstand. “Besides, if you ever see me running, you better run faster—because something is definitely after me.”

The girl burst out laughing. “Fair enough.” She flashed a bright, easy smile. “Fredrika Jones. But everyone calls me Freddy.”

“Gemma Havley,” she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear. “And before ten a.m., I don’t care what anyone calls me.”

Freddy let out a friendly laugh. “Got it. New roomie is not a morning person.”

Gemma flopped back against the bed with a groan. “Not even a little bit.” A small smile tugged at her mouth.

“Okay,” Freddy said, already bouncing to her feet. “I’m gonna go for my jog, and if you help me tackle this disaster when I get back, I’ll show you all the good places to go. You know—the ones that don’t card.”

Gemma reached for her phone, then pointed toward the desk. “I’ll help if you bring back a mocha latte. There’s money right there.”

Freddy plucked the ten‑dollar bill off the desk and held it up. “Awfully trusting, aren’t you? Just handing me cash.”

“Nah,” Gemma said with a smirk. “I know where you live.”

Freddy laughed, delighted. “I think we’re gonna get along great, Gemma Havley.” She headed for the door, tugging her ponytail tighter. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

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Gemma sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the mattress as she heard the door open upon Freddy’s return.

"Look at that, the room gremlin is up," Freddy noted.

Gemma collapsed back onto the bed. "No, it doesn't count; only my feet are up".

Laughing, Freddy offered her a supportive hand to help her sit back up and passed over a latte. "It's a beginning," she remarked. "The rest of you will wake up once the caffeine takes effect".

 

Freddy laughed, offering a hand to help Gemma sit up before handing over the latte. "It"s a start," she noted. "The rest of you will catch up once that caffeine kicks in."

Gemma took a cautious sip of the coffee and set it down on the nightstand. "I wouldn"t bet on it," she replied.

Freddy reached for a box and began the process of folding and hanging clothes. She glanced back at Gemma with a grin. "You gonna help?" 

The pair managed to tuck away all of Freddy’s belongings within a few hours, their constant laughter and banter making it feel as though they had been friends for years. During the process, Freddy mentioned she hailed from a city just thirty minutes north of Bronson, while Gemma spoke of her upbringing in an Oklahoma town where everyone knew everyone else.

Once they were finally finished, Freddy turned to Gemma. “So, now you’re definitely going out with me tonight, right?”