I checked the list of ingredients on my phone, and headed towards the towering aisles of packaged food. I shivered in my shirt and shorts. The campus supermarket always had the air-con on blast.
Think of all the times he was rude to you. He wanted you the whole time.
There was the high-protein pasta. Now to choose what shape. Spaghetti? Angel hair?
He’s rude to me now.
Spirals were probably fine.
He wants you now.
“Never going to happen,” I said, drawing strange looks from the students shopping around me. I quickly walked away, and planted my feet in front of the sauce selection.
If I was honest, I had toyed with the idea of having sex with Taylor again. But as soon as the thought crossed my mind, I remembered how wretched I felt the morning after. Yes, he said he hadn’t meant it, but he’d said those cutting words so easily, and they still hurt, even now.
If I had sex with Taylor again, I’d feel disgusted with myself. I’d feel weak. Like I’d abandoned my self-respect for a moment of base pleasure.
Well, it’d probably be longer than a moment. Taylor would take his time —
Stop thinking about it, the rational part of my brain screamed at me. My dildo was more than adequate. Dealing with an actual person just caused headaches.
But even though I’d dismissed the idea of getting involved with him, he still lingered in the corners of my mind, which was why I was at the supermarket, cross-checking everything I bought with a recipe I’d found online.
I pulled a jar of bolognaise sauce that proclaimed it was ‘gourmet’ from the shelves, and added it to my basket. I grabbedthe last few things for the recipe, then tossed in some ramen and cereal, and after a moment of hesitation, some granola because the Nutella toast I was eating every day was starting to make my teeth hurt.
The dorm was empty by the time I returned. Good. I took out all the food, put the stuff I didn’t need away, then video-called my mum.
“Oh my goodness, what is this? My son, calling me?” Mum said as soon as she answered, her face too close to the camera, as per usual.
“Hi Mum.”
“Is that Archie?” Dad asked, from somewhere in the background. “I thought he’d lost our number.”
“I answer your texts!” I protested.
“I guess he’s been too busy with uni life,” Mum said.
“I bet he’s calling because he wants something,” Dad laughed.
“What’s wrong?” Mum asked, moving into another room. “Everything’s okay, isn’t it?”
“Yes Mum.” I hesitated, because I didn’t want to prove Dad right. “I’m, uh…about to cook dinner right now.”
Mum’s gaze flicked to the top of the screen. “It’s a bit early.”
“I wanted to give myself buffer time in case I make mistakes.”
She smiled. “I can’t believe you cook now. You’re really growing up, aren’t you?”
“Mum,” I groaned. I was extra glad Taylor wasn’t here to hear this. Mum’s comments made me sound useless, which…to be fair, I was. When I lived at home, all I had to do was put my laundry in the hamper and keep my room clean and take the bins out once a week. I never cooked, whereas Taylor clearly had.
Taylor probably knew how to do all the household things. Maybe his parents just expected it of him. I wasn’t sure, though. I’d never met them.
“What are you cooking?” Mum asked.
“Pasta,” I said, angling the camera to show her all the ingredients I’d bought. “I’m cooking for my dumbass roommate, so it has to taste okay.”
“Now, why’s your roommate a dumbass?” Mum asked in her primary school teacher voice. She’d been teaching grades 3 and 4 for as long as I could remember.
