Secret: My Roommate is a billionaire!!!

On her lunch break the next day, Iva went to the hardware store and bought rope. A lot of it. At the local variety store, she purchased

several cheap white sheets---flat, not fitted, and good for hanging.

She met up with Lina for sodas at the gas station, bringing a bag of hot fries to share. They sat in a couple of cheap plastic chairs in front of Iva's parent's house that overlooked the Saint John River, between the second and third tour bus of the day. It was good to get away from the smell of burning oil and the stuffy truck.

While they ate, Iva dipping her fries into a puddle of ketchup, she told Alina about Mr. Otto Bergmann, incognito photographer lurking about town.

"I think I've seen him," Lina said, sipping at her soda.

"And look at this." Iva reached for the morning paper still sitting on the porch, opened by her father and then dropped to the ground. His footprint still marked the newsprint when he stomped on it in fury

at the headline. Mayor Sean in Discussions with The Ministry of Transportation. Proposal for new highway bypass voted on

soon.

"You might as well kill off the town," Iva seethed, skimming the article. "They're going to bypass the town? Two hundred years of history will disappear into the hills. Everybody's livelihoods will dry up---the bridge, the tourists, the fishermen---just like that." She snapped her fingers and threw the paper down, kicking it away with her sandaled foot.

Alina swallowed the last thick fry, closing her eyes in salty ecstasy. "It is disturbing, but I didn't think you cared that much for Vancouver. We were both so eager to leave town as soon as we graduated, we would have paid the mayor to never return."

"It might be a claustrophobic town with annoying tourists who leave trash everywhere and nothing for teens to do, but it's my hometown. This will devastate my parents. So many families who've been here

for generations."

"Hopefully there's a petition and we can get all 2 million citizen signatures and shove it in Mayor Sean's face."

She gave Iva a discerning look. "If I'm not mistaken, I think you're ticked off about more than just political talk and highway shenanigans."

"Oh, no, not at all," Iva said, her sarcasm thick as molasses during December. "Just the mayor, the bridge, my parents, Noah Graham, Otto Bergmann, and my house. Well, my new rented house," she amended.

"Goodness, girl, smooth out the furrowed brow, please!" Lina said with a laugh. "All that pent-up anger. Maybe we need to have a movie and wine night."

"Soon, please!" Iva smiled half-heartedly, and then stuck out her tongue like she used to when they were girls and fighting over everything and nothing.

"So Mr. Otto Bergmann. What a nice name," Lina said, returning to the previous subject. "The man is a hunk of the highest order-and I know you won't contradict me. But I also hate him."

"Why do you hate him? I'm the one with the hate rights."

"Because he's a professional photographer with some high-falutin' magazine like National Geographic and he's going to steal all my new business."