"Nothing but lint in my pocket"

         The sun sliced through the cloud of dust that kept me company in my sparsely furnished bedroom, and I stared at the ceiling irately.  For the past week, I had considered moving my coffee maker to my room.  It seemed like the steps were out of order; get up off the floor, where my lumpy mattress collected still more dust, and then make coffee.  The coffee should come first, shouldn't it?  How could anyone expect me to expend the energy required to stand first thing in the morning without coffee?

         Groaning, I wrestled with my sheets and stumbled from my knees to my feet. The bathroom was the first stop, and then the kitchen.  The coffeemaker did its job as superbly as ever.  I sat down with my heavy mug and stared at the dirty tiles on the floor, waiting for the hot liquid to cool.

         "Rick?"

         I grunted.  Kyle usually woke up before me, but he always waited until I was in the kitchen to leave his bedroom.  I didn't know why.  I only thought to care once, when I asked him to bring me coffee in the morning as a joke.

         He strolled in and set up to make scrambled eggs.  I directed my attention from the floor to his bare back.  He wasn't much to look at; he was rather scrawny, and his dark hair was sticking up in back at strange angles.  Very fashionable in his Loony Toons boxers, which he'd probably had since middle school.  After a few minutes, I growled, "Plans for today?"

         He glanced back at me, shrugged, and turned back to the skillet.  "I was going to go out, but I don't think I will."

         "With Annette?"  Annette was his girlfriend.  She was sweet and unassuming, and, in my opinion, loyal to the point of stupidity.  They had been dating since early high school.  I didn't know how she could put up with him; he had never had much money, but now, as a college kid with an apartment, he could hardly afford the gas to drive to her house once a week.

         He shrugged again.  "I'm not going out."

         "When was the last time you took her out?"

         "...Valentine's Day."  Two months ago.  I sighed but kept my mouth closed.  It didn't particularly matter to me, but I knew how he felt about it.  He had told me once, not long after we had moved into the apartment.  We were still getting used to living with each other.  We had decided before we signed the lease that we would each buy our own food and furniture, and that we would try our best to watch our use of utilities.  Short showers, lights off during the day, and other common sense things.  I thought that we were doing really well.  Then, one day, while I was searching the cabinets for salt, I opened his and found... nothing.

         "Where's your food at?" I had asked him.  He just shrugged.  "What, you're not eating?  Is that it?"

         "I need to save my money."

         I remember giving him a hard look.  He worked like no one I had ever met.  What the hell did he need to save for?

         "Look," he sighed, exasperated, "I'm just... I need the money.  For Annette."

         And the look I had given him before was like nothing.  "What the hell you need to save your money for Annette for?"

         He had shrugged.  But I drug it out of him eventually.  He knew that the girl deserved better.  He knew that she was loyal to the point of stupidity.  And he fucking loved her all the more for it.  He didn't need to eat, but damn it, he needed to see Annette.

         His plan to starve himself for her hadn't worked out, obviously.  I told her, and she started to pick him up and take him out, and like the angel she was, she always covered his tabs.  And he hated it.

         "Why don't you take Annette out to the river today?" I grunted, finishing my coffee.

         I heard him sigh.  "You know why.  I've got nothing but lint in my pockets."

         I nibbled on the rim of my mug for a second before saying, "I got thirty dollars in mine."

         He glanced over his shoulder at me.  "That's your money."

         Without responding, I stood up and stretched.  My body felt so much better with coffee in it.  As I left the kitchen, I said, "Not if I happen to misplace it.  Which jeans you wearing today?"