Chapter 28 Chapter Twenty Seven

I moved into my new home on the Saturday morning every other week.Miles took me upstairs to see the future bedroom that was rejected by six other roommates.It is located on the top floor of the house and has a bird's-eye view of the entire street. It's kind of empty, Miles said, and we haven't had time to redecorate it yet.Dalio promised to start work, but you know The rooms are literally bare and cold from having not turned on the heat for weeks or months.As far as the eye could see, there was only a tattered carpet, a bed with a mattress, bare light bulbs on the ceiling, and curtain racks without curtains.

great.I say because it is really good.I've stayed in all kinds of places before.Illegally occupy vacant houses, and even get into sleeping bags directly at the construction site. Do you have a lot?Miles asked me. There are so few. Actually, all I have is a laundry bag full of clothes.So I went down the high street, found an old, quaint lifestyle store, bought a duvet and quilt cover, bought a pillow and pillow case, bought a bed sheet and bath towel.Then I wandered into a small bookstore and looked through the psychology, religion, inspirational self-help, and gardening sections and found a book called The Handbook of Successful Friendship.When I handed it to the lady at the counter, she looked at me curiously.

This is for a friend.I said. real or fake?she says. I'm kidding you. seven.Ninety-nine pounds.she said without a smile. I don't care that she thinks I'm the type of person who needs to make friends according to the book.That's not why I bought the book, at least not entirely.I want to put all that past behind me, and I can do that without creating fake birth certificates or stealing people's names.The method is actually very simple.I just never come home, never call home again.What's the problem?Only in the end, the old things will catch up with me, and it will always catch up, like something stuck to the sole of a shoe; but until then, life on Maitland Road will be mine. Little experiment.I want to play a normal roommate who gets along well with everyone.I think of it as a technique to practice.That's why I need this book, it can teach me to play the right role.

I made the bed, hung the towel on the hook behind the door, and read in bed.The chapter I read was about dialogue.Each paragraph is titled with a quote, which I read aloud to myself: The art of conversation is listening attentively; if you want to meet someone, you must first make eye contact; respect their space; be supportive, not competitive; If in doubt, just talk about your own business; promise others, don’t add a proviso Through the recommendation of my friend Ben's uncle, I will be involved in the refurbishment of Camberwell across the river.Two days after I moved in, I went to the construction site and talked to a guy who was hired to do the work.It was fairly basic work, paid for on the spot, and the work would take at least three months.The job was a breeze.I returned to Maitland Road in the evening.I don't know how to be a good roommate, but at least it can avoid being a bad roommate and not running out of hot water.So I took a hot shower for about a minute.When I went downstairs, I found Pipa was the only one at home, and she was reading a magazine.Don't project yourself as a freeloader, especially at first.

I bought some wine and I said, would you like a drink? OK, Pipa said, red wine or white wine? Whichever you want, I said, I bought both. That's it, then you can stay, she said happily, the liquor is ready. I poured two glasses and sat on the same sofa as her, but kept some distance in between, respecting her space.Listen attentively. I know it must be weird to say that, I said, but you don't look like a lawyer. I was so relieved then.She said while sipping liquor. What kind of cases do you take? It was actually quite interesting to hear her talk about all kinds of people in the firm, and clients who were eccentric and demanding.I took the opportunity to practice being an attentive listener.The book says that in conversation, men compete and women support.So I'm actually a woman.An amazing woman.That's right, that's right, that's what it said.I understand what you mean.Yeah, that's right, that's right.Oh that's wonderful.I can't believe it, are you really doing this?So what did he say?What an idiot. I keep pouring her wine, looking her in the eyes from time to time, but not invading her personal space.I reached for the bottle, trying to pour her a drink, but it was empty.

Would you like some red wine instead?I said. She moved over, invading my personal space.She put her hand on my forearm. Do you know what cohabitation big trouble is?she asked me. have no idea. Of course you don't know, but let me tell you.It's a tension between the sexes.It ruins friendships and creates trouble. I understand what you mean. You don't understand, because I haven't said it yet.When we were together, we flirted all the time, thinking whether to or not?Not long after that, a tragic breakup could ensue.It's a nightmare for the couple, but it's not for anyone else either.You've probably heard about Estelle's old affair with poor Miles.

Never heard of it. Basically, the two of them dated, and then the relationship couldn't go on, so the woman dumped the man, and from then on, the man was like a walking dead. I regret. It's boring.It's still boring.He has a new girlfriend now.To him, the new girlfriend is like a weapon he can wield against Estelle.Here.Look what you did to me. Pipa caressed my arm thoughtfully, and continued.Now that you're here, there's a new kind of tension. Do you think so? This is unavoidable.We will pass each other.When they got out of the bathroom, they bumped into each other wrapped in towels.

I don't want to complicate the situation too much.I said. She turned a deaf ear and moved closer.The only solution is to unblock the flood of lust in the first place. What's the meaning? She caressed my face gently, slowly showing a lazy smile.You know.she says. What?now?I feel her nose right next to mine. Not a must, she said, but it would be fun.Then we can continue to be friends. But where to do it? She made a face.Well, of course not here.Someone might come home.Come to my room. Want to bring wine? No, drink after finishing work. She was talking to me as she took my hand and led me upstairs.The content seems to have something to do with a family routine or someone's bad habits.But I couldn't settle down to listen to the details.The blood rushed to my ears, and I could hear the sound of the blood rushing.I feel so hot.The situation was out of my control and I didn't know how the whole thing would end.She took me into a room at the front of the house by the door.For a moment, it all seemed to happen to someone else, or at least to someone else and me.I can imagine that others might find her messy room attractive, with strewn clothes, an unmade bed, closed curtains, and the smell of perfume, deodorant, and soap.But I'm disgusted by these.I would love to clear the floors and open the windows to let the sunlight and fresh air in.

Pipa grabbed her T-shirt and pulled it off her head, revealing her black bra that concealed her flat chest.She kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned the front of her jeans.Then sit on the bed and lie back. Help me take off my pants.she says. She was matter-of-fact, as if we were playing pelota.I grabbed the hems of her jeans and gave them a hard tug.She lifted herself up so that I could take off my pants.She undid her bra, pulled down her panties, and got into bed with quick and practiced action, pulling the duvet over her.I glanced at her dark nipples and neatly trimmed pubic hair.Others may think she is so beautiful, and they can't even believe that luck fell from the sky.

now you.she says. While I was undressing, an ominous premonition arose in my heart, as if I had been tricked into a place I didn't want to go to.I really can't think of a reason to do it.But I climbed into bed and lay next to her.Her whole face was pressed against mine, and I kissed her, tasting the wine on the tip of her tongue.I felt uncomfortable, feeling like I shouldn't be on her side, like a lefty trying to do things with his right. She put her hand on my arm, then groped down, slid across my chest, and continued down to my belly.oh.she cried. sorry i said i don't i don't

it does not matter. no i mean i It's okay, she grinned, don't worry. She kissed my chest and started to move down, kissing all the way down.I grab her by the shoulders.don't want.I said. take it easy. No. I pushed her away and got out of bed quickly.I looked left and right, looking for clothes.In my desperation I thought the clothes had disappeared into her chaotic room, never to be found again.Luckily I found it, I stupidly stood on one foot, then switched feet and put on my underwear.I caught her staring at me with a mischievous look on her face as I put on my jeans.Do not worry about it.she says. Of course it doesn't matter.I said. I mean, it's no big deal. It's easy for you to tell.You should sleep with a lot of guys. She looked bewildered, though her face remained cheerful.What's the matter? She sat up on the bed without pulling the duvet up to cover her tits like an actress in a tutorial movie.This was probably the last time I saw her boobs.Powerless and ashamed, I walked towards her, blood burning in my face.If you dare to tell others, I will tell you. what will happen to youPipa asked. It is right not to say.I said. Oh, don't be silly, David.How can I say that? I stomped out of her bedroom and went straight out into the street, where the icy drizzle quickly soaked my clothes.My eyes hurt so much, I became angry with embarrassment, angry at her for throwing her arms around me, angry at her for not giving me a good chance to behave; I was also angry at my own incompetence.She didn't just win the battle I had with her, dominated me, humiliated me, she made me look bad to my face, in this home, where I was about to start over, make over.I am beyond redemption.She will definitely tell others.I've heard how she gossips with people.She couldn't hold back.Or maybe she would really keep her mouth shut, otherwise she would only be called a flamboyant bitch if she said it out.People will say that the roommate just moved in, and she wants to get into his pants. My mind was wandering, and I accidentally bumped into someone, so I reached out to help him, lest he fall down.Unexpectedly, the other party's shopping bag still fell on the ground, the cans rolled down, and a bag of rice was also spilled on the sidewalk.I looked at the other party in horror, like waking up from a dream, not knowing where I was. I'm really sorry, I said, it's all my fault.Let me help you. Oh my God, she said in a panic, look at the mess.Rice was scattered all around us, and a few green apples were rolling on the sidewalk toward the road.But maybe it's my fault.I am clumsy.My husband always says that to me. I bent over to help her put the shopping back into the bag.I'll buy another bag of rice to compensate you.let me see.Basmati rice. Really no need.Just a misunderstanding.Most people don't stop at all.They just growl and hurry away. Well, I'm glad I'm not the majority.I'm afraid these apples are all broken.I'll buy you some apples as well. Please don't. At least let me carry you home.Do you live nearby? Just a few more meters to go.Number fifty-four. I live in No. 72.Then we are neighbors!I switched to my left hand carrying shopping bags and extended my right hand. The woman blushed and shook my hand.Hello, she said shyly, I wish there were more kind people like you on this road. I just moved here.my name is david. My name is Margaret, she said, but my friends call me Peggy.