At the end of the class, Maestro Van Gogel assigns us our partners. My stomach clenches wondering what my fate will be. But I should have known. Posted right next to my name is stark bold letters in Times New Roman font, is none other than Melody Wessex.
6
MELODY
There has to be some mistake. Either that, or the universe is dolling out its karma on me in one effective swoop. I knew spitting into that one handsy customer’s beer would come back to haunt me. I just didn’t expect it to be spectacularly handing me my ass all at once. The most I figured it would do was maybe a bout of food poisoning. This is arguably worse.
Being saddled with Chase Milford for a project that my entire grade hinges upon. It doesn't help that he already hates my guts for just simply existing, but I can't even escape the guy when I go home. If I had enough money of my own to rent a place off campus, I would, but it turns out waitresses make a shitty living since it mostly is dependent on tips. And well, people haven't been feeling all that generous the last few years. Money is not a commodity I'm used to having. And now that I'm reliant on my stepfather’s coin, I'd rather not make any waves to fuck up the good thing I have going for me. Being here at this school is an opportunity many would kill to have. So, what if I have to put up with some annoying roommate. I've worked holidays and with rowdy sports fans during the Super Bowl. I can totally take being paired up with Chase Milford.
Okay, scratch that. This is torture.
He immediately stalks off in a huff as soon as he sees our names together, not even giving me a chance to talk to him. Fine. I'll just catch him back at the dorm.
Only, once I'm there do I realize I don't have my own key and I never got Chase's number. It’s not like I can call him anyways, since my phone has been dead all day. I have no idea what his schedule is, so I don’t even know when to expect him back. I sit with my back against the wall and my luggage propped up next to me as people step over me on their way down the hall. My feet ache, and all I want to do is lay down. And possibly take a shower.
My mind snags on the one bathroom we share, and I wince, not looking forward to navigating that whole situation. What was my stepfather thinking putting the two of us together like this? I mean, he has money, so I don't understand deciding not to spring for a little apartment off campus. Unless there isn’t one since this place is so secluded. I know better than to ask him though, my brief impression of my new stepfather was that he wasn't interested in fostering any type of relationship outside of a financial one. That's fine with me. I've had my fair share of my mom's romantic interests to last me a lifetime. He's just the most recent one in a long line of men. I'm surprised she got him to marry her, though. All the other times she's been in a relationship, the whole thing would blow up in a matter of months. That's why when he and my mom offered to have me enrolled here, I jumped at the chance. I know what a prestigious place like this could do for my future.
It seems like hours before Chase finally shows back up at our dorm room, and now my butt has gone numb from being in the same position for too long.
"Waiting for someone?" He asks, eyebrow cocked.
I can feel my anger simmering close to the surface. Hot and ready to lash out.
"Yeah, you. I can't get in." He takes his time with the keys, and I have to breathe out of my nose slowly to keep from exploding.
He flashes me a smirk that I want to smack right off his pretty face. He's one of those guys that knows he's good looking. I bet everyone falls at his feet, doing his bidding, begging for his attention. I roll my eyes, but that just makes him smile even wider. It's infuriating.
"Home sweet home," he says. I push past him and head straight to the bathroom feeling like my bladder is about to burst from how long I’ve been waiting.
Once inside, I take care of my business while admiring the expansive space, especially the walk-in shower with a large chrome shower head. There are white subway style tiles on the walls and large marble tiles on the floor. It's surprisingly clean, and it makes me wonder if he has a maid do his cleaning for him. He seems the type. Curiosity gets the better of me and has me snooping through the medicine cabinet once I finish washing my hands. You can tell a lot about a person by what they tuck away in there. No surprise, I find a box of condoms and several bottles of lube. At least he uses protection.
I note the expensive array of skincare products that I could only dream of being able to afford, before closing the cabinet and exiting the room. The impression I get is that Chase is the kind of guy that likes things a certain way. Definite Virgo energy. I make a mental note to find out his birthday without seeming interested. He might get the wrong idea.
Chase is propped up on his pillows in bed, feet crossed at the ankle and laptop open. He has noise cancelling headphones affixed to his ears, that screams 'leave me alone'. I pad over to the fridge, and thankfully find some lunchmeat to make a sandwich with. There's some counter space and a microwave that will come in handy. There's also a coffee machine that I will absolutely be using daily. Today, I suffered through the cafeteria’s sludge that they pass off as coffee for the meager amount of caffeine. I was desperate, but quickly learned to steer clear of them in the future. At least they make decent eggs. For lunch, I found a taco truck parked near the quad. I stuffed down three chicken tacos, topped with extra guac and a healthy dollop of sour cream. The expense was worth it. It'd been a tough 48 hours, and I deserved a little treat. I’ll have to find a job, even though my meals are covered, living here long-term doesn’t seem feasible. Though, I have no idea when I’ll find the time with all the catching up I have to do.
"What the hell are you doing? That's my food," Chases' voice booms. My mouth is full preventing me from responding.
He stands there, hands on his hips and brow furrowed. Yeah, he really doesn't like his space messed with. I'm betting Virgo for sure. Possibly a Capricorn.
"I was hungry," I manage to say once I swallow. He looks at me like I've just kicked a puppy. I roll my eyes at him again. Man, my optometrist is going to have a field day with how much my eyes are getting a workout here. "I promise I'll replace it if it's a big deal. I took one piece of turkey and one provolone."
"And two pieces of bread."
"Right. Can't forget that."
I swallow the last piece and brush the crumbs away from my fingers. He follows the bits of bread with his eyes, nose flaring.
“You’re going to pick that up,” he says. His voice crawls along my skin, making the hairs on the back of my neck prickle, like I’m in the presence of an apex predator.
“What?”
“The crumbs. Get down on your knees and lick it off the floor.”
My eyes widen. He has to be kidding. But one look at his face tells me that he’s dead serious. His lips are tipped up in a smirk, knowing that he’s unsettling me.
“What are you going to do? Make me?” Nerves flutter in my stomach knowing that he could fold me in half if he wanted to.
“Pick up your mess, princess. I won’t ask again.”
