The sounds of gunshots dribbled through my fogged brain. I turned toward the florescent light, though it was too much effort to keep my eyes open. Dull gunshots, every single one the same. Paul was definitely playing some shooter. Or we were under attack by an army using video game noises to make us think it’s not real. I rolled over to face the couch.

 

Wait, couch? God, I fell asleep looking at my phone again. I could feel a headache coming on as I checked my pockets for my phone. Empty, empty, both empty, my hands wandered to see if it was anywhere on the couch, but I was doomed. Hopefully, it was on the floor and not deep inside the couch. I could feel myself waking up as I fussed over my phone and turned around to face the flatscreen not far from my face.

 

My eyes glazed over at hard to distinguish greys and browns on the television. I rubbed around my eyes with my index finger as I thought about the weird dream I had again. It shows up like every other week since Paul let me crash at his apartment. Dreams are just our brains having a laugh at us, so I don’t really like think it has some deep meaning, but that person talking to me wasn’t there before. I don’t think I’ve ever dreamed someone I’ve never met talking to me before.

 

“Nice of you to join the living,” Paul said with a sneer, his gaze fixed intently on the action on screen. “I let you sleep for awhile but I’ve been wanting to play this all day and I gotta work soon.”

 

He made it sound like he was doing me a favor and my grogginess stopped me from saying anything snarky. In the end, he really is doing me a favor, but it’s annoying how it feels like he always holds it over me. Maybe I’m just overthinking things again.

 

I didn’t feel like looking for my phone so I asked if I could play too. I suck at shooters but it would help me wake up at least. “Nah,” Paul said, “This game don’t have any local co-op.”

 

“Wasn’t I just playing that one?” I said, “Aren’t you playing Apex something or whatever?” “Hell no. I keep forgetting you don’t really know anything about games. This just came out, it’s the new Call for Glory game. You gotta get your own if you wanna play it. I ain’t fucking sharing either I’ve been waiting for this for months.”

 

I decided to pay attention and it was different. The other game was more colorful, this one looked boring. There weren’t any cool powers. Everyone looked like the same kind of soldier. It looked pretty stupid.“This game looks stupid.” I said automatically as I came to that conclusion.

 

“It is stupid,” Paul said, kind of defensively, so I didn’t believe him, “but you wouldn’t really get it unless you play it. It’s really fun to play, like, it’s straight up like good head when you—" “Can you stop saying gross shit like that Paul.”

 

“Ah shit, I’m sorry. But like I dunno, why do you always have to be so down on the stuff I do? I don’t say anything when you watch those dumb cartoons. Like be cranky in the morning and all, but it’s 3pm Sunshine!”

​

I know he knows that nickname annoys me because I told him to stop saying it. There wasn’t any reason to fight over nothing though so I started looking for my phone. It was under the couch, thank christ. I cleared through all my notifications but I didn’t feel awake enough to reply to anyone. Hopefully, I would remember to later. I haven’t been remembering things that well lately.

 

It’s been some months long effort to get Paul to stop treating me like a girl and now all he does is treat me like one of the guys. I thought that was fine at first but it’s really starting to get on my nerves. The thing is, I’m pretty sure this is just how he acts to anyone he’s close to, so it’s only something I think about when he’s being annoying. Which feels like all the time.

 

God, I just need new friends. Straight guys genuinely think the world revolves around them. I went down these familiar thoughts as I walked toward the kitchen in the back of the room. Paul’s zenlike concentration was broken by a shout of “THAT’S FUCKING BULLSHIT” and I could honestly hear him press the buttons from whatever feet away.

 

Fridge, empty. Cabinets, empty. Great, I don’t know what I was expecting. “We’re still out of food,” I lightly raised my voice to carry it to the living area.

 

“The fuck we are,“ Paul basically shouted back, “we still got more than enough. You buy the groceries if it doesn’t suite your bougie palette.”He was referring to the red top ramen in the cabinet. For breakfast. Absolutely not, not today. I sighed and checked if there were any deliveries I could do by foot on any of my apps. There wasn’t. I checked my email to see if any of my job applications got through. They didn’t. So glad that my student debt payments are frozen for a whopping three more months.

 

I went to my room and got my board. I wanted to do something, anything. At least I could feel at home on the waves. Maybe I’ll be hungry enough to eat the ramen when I get back.

 

“Where you going, beach bum?” Paul said and looked away from the TV for the first time.

 

“Why are you so uptight today? Are you still mad that I completely out-surfed your dumbass last Saturday?” I spoke faster than I could think, but I really didn’t know what his problem was today.

 

Paul’s face contorted into a scowl, then a grin. “Hey, I don’t got time to surf all day, so I don’t even feel bad.” He started laughing. “Yeah, but you have time to play stupid games all day.” I shot back.

 

“Man, I’ll cop, you got me there. I’d tell you to get me a pretzel but I know your ass is broke.”

 

Man, he says. I’m so done. I’m not doing this today. I step out into warm sun, bathing in it. It feels good. It immediately washes over me and feels bigger than my cares and my worries. Sometimes I wish I could be like, I dunno, a California Redwood, like just bigger than all of this. I could stand over everyone, watch them, protect them, bathing in the sun’s rays—

 

Wait, do the cis gender trees? Ugh, you know, probably. I started walking up the hill at the edge of our complex and stopped thinking. No more thinking, please.