Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t fucking say it.
“If you wanna come over to my room later, I can give you my old notes.”
Well, if it all goes to hell, I can chalk it up to my brain not being on the same wavelength as the rest of me.
9
HUNTER
If my mom could see me now, I’m not sure if she would cheer me on or walk over and thump me right in the middle of my forehead. Because what the hell am I doing, following Adam back to his room?
After our last interaction, I thought for sure it would be the last time I would see him. Then he walked into the café, all blue eyes and dark hair. His wind-swooped, dark hair brushed away from his face, broad shoulders squared and strong as he smiled at Angie. A hint of stubble lines his cheeks, highlighting his strong jawline.
It’s only the first week of school, I don’t need help right now. But I’m too shallow to say no; the chance of having a friend is too much of a temptation to pass up. All I need is an in, and then from there it will work itself out. I can be friends with him, I’m sure we have something in common.
I thumb through the Rolodex of activities in my mind.
I like reading, drawing, collecting books, cooking, eating, and sometimes hiking, if the weather is nice outside. That’s stuff normal people like, and maybe there are more hobbies out therethat I would like if I had someone to do them with. I just need someone to take a chance on being my friend.
The walk back to Adam’s dorm is quiet, both of us lost in our thoughts, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Is he thinking of a way to let me down easily, to tell me I can borrow his notes, but that’s where he draws the line?
We enter the dorm building across campus where the upperclassmen live, and I stay hot on his heels while he leads us up to the third floor. I’m panting by the time we reach his door, and what I could really go for is a cold bottle of water. Maybe a cupcake to congratulate myself on the physical exertion.
Adam opens the door, holding it for me to pass through before pushing down the door prop with his foot. I wait for his cue on what to do, staring at the blank walls surrounding me. He doesn’t have anything hung up, no artwork or pictures. It would look like nobody lived here if it weren’t for the abundance of open cans and takeout bags on the coffee table.
“Brittany and Zoey are stopping by later,” Adam says, gesturing at the door. “Give me a minute, the notes are in my binders from last year.” He leaves me standing in his dorm, no roommate in sight. It must be nice to live alone, not to have to worry if your roommate is going to kick you out for the night.
I have the strongest urge to pick up the mess he’s left behind, but I think that would be crossing the line. Who wants a stranger in their place, picking up their trash?
But… he did invite me over, so he could just be one of those people who get distracted easily and forget to pick up after themselves. My mom is the same way, and I’ve spent the time since I could walk making sure everything is in order.
I fill my hands with empty cans and take them over to the trash can by the entryway table. The nice thing about these rooms is that they’re more spacious and they have a kitchen in them. Typically, I think there are three people assigned toa room, but this one only has one bedroom in it. Maybe it’s a special one.
Once I have all the empty cans thrown away, I start grabbing the bags. If there’s still food, I’ll just put it in the refrigerator, and he can figure out if he wants to throw it away later or not. I don’t want to put it in the trash if it still has the chance of being good. That seems like a waste.
There are some dishes in the sink, so I wash and hand dry them, leaving them off to the side so Adam can put them up himself. I don’t want to intrude on his personal space.
“Found them… What the fuck?” I turn around, a blush rising on my cheeks in embarrassment when I see Adam staring at me with a gaping mouth.
“Uhm, I…” I trail off, not sure exactly how I’m supposed to explain that I just cleaned his dorm room for him. “I wanted to help you out, it was looking a little cluttered.”
“I can see that. Why?” His tone is sharp and his eyes are narrowed into slits. When I flounder for my words, he rolls his eyes, tossing the stacks of notes onto the cleaned coffee table. I can feel my pulse throbbing in the vein in my neck, self-consciousness flowing over the ridges of my brain. “Just forget it. Here’s the notes.” He turns on his heel and goes back into the room he previously disappeared into. The door slams shut with a loudthud.
My eyes prickle, but I refuse to let the tears fall. I had one chance,one chance,and I ruined it. I don’t even want the notes now, the reason for my being here.
“I guess I’ll just see myself out,” I murmur, leaving the notes on the table and exiting through the open door.
Walking down the unfamiliar hallway, I feel a thread of panic build because I don’t know how to get out of here.
All I wanted was a friend, someone that I could talk to and confide in. Someone to offer me an embrace when it feels like the world is against me.
The words of hateful people plague my thoughts.Never good enough. Loser. Weird.The number of times I walked into the cafeteria, just to be turned away from every table, until I swallowed my pride and went into the bathroom to eat. Staying at home and locking myself in my room, because being alone is better than hearing rejections every time I turn around.
My parents are constantly begging me to go out, and I’m always ready with an excuse. Missed birthday dinners because I couldn’t drag myself out of bed to celebrate. Family gatherings where I hid inside while everyone else was outside.
Someone cuts around the corner in front of me, and I plaster on a fake smile. The smile I’ve perfected by staring at myself in the mirror.
“Oh! Hey, Hunt, what are you doing here?” Zoey asks, her hair in a messy bun on top of her head and her face free of makeup. She looks younger than normal, like she should be in high school instead of walking through the college dorms.
