Chapter 22

After the phone call, I had become nearly impossible to live with. Poor Jeff and Vance and Darrin. I almost felt sorry for them. For the past twenty-four hours, my roommates had resided with an obsessed lunatic. One who relentlessly paced the living room or kitchen or hallway, continually stared at the various clocks, didn’t eat, barely slept, drank only a few beers—purchased on my own dime, thank you very much!—and took an inordinate amount of long, hot showers.