1
Jayden
Maybe it made me a dick,but I was relieved when I walked into the dorm and saw half the room empty. I should feel bad that my roommate washed out and was now back home getting ready to start taking classes at the community college because his parents refused to foot the bill for his constant partying. I didn’t. And it wasn’t him stumbling into the room piss drunk more often than not that broke me.
Let’s just sayno manwants to be reminded repeatedly that his mom’s a MILF. How I refrained from knocking him out the night I was studying for a final and he was drunk enough to tell me in graphic detail what he’d like to do to her is truly one of the great mysteries of the world. Yes, I knew my mom was hot. Yes, she was young. No, that didn’t make her fair game for dickheads who couldn’t get laid on campus because word had gotten out about their issues with whiskey dick.
I only hoped the stripped bed and barren desk meant housing hadn’t seen a reason to give me another roommate for the spring semester. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep my grades up again this semester with the constant distraction.
“Dude! Did your mom send the goods back with you?” Matt had the nose of a damn bloodhound. If I didn’t know better, I could almost imagine him lying on the floor near the door that connected the two sides of our living unit, sniffing and drooling like a dog waiting for a treat every time I came home from Mom’s house. I got it, really. She was a kick-ass baker with nothing better to do than try new recipes now that she wasn’t cleaning up after me all the time.
“Yes, you damned mooch.” I shook my head as I unzipped the duffel that was crammed with snacks to get me through until the next big shopping trip, as well as three containers of fresh-baked cookies and brownies to share with Matt and Brandon—the guys left in my suite who weren’t loud, disrespectful fuckwits. The other two weren’t actuallythatbad, but we weren’t close. “Mom said she made the caramel ones just for you.”
Matt nearly stumbled over his own two feet; his arms outstretched for the gift. The lid clattered to the ground as he scooped out a square of chocolatey goodness. “Dude, your mom is the shit!”
“Did you even bother saying hi to him?” Brandon followed, shaking his head. “Sorry, man. I tried getting him to give you a bit of space before accosting you.”
“You’re not his Daddy.” I didn’t mean anything by the off-handed comment, but Brandon froze, his cheeks flaming bright red. He swallowed hard. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and he looked ready to bolt. “Chill, man. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Matt was possibly one of the biggest dudebros I’d ever met. Sure, I sometimes wondered if all that posturing was a way to hide his sexuality, but I’d never call him on it. Not my place, and I understood that not everyone was lucky enough to have supportive families the way I did.
“Yeah, I know. It’s cool.” Matt snatched another brownie before handing the container back. “It’s not my fault I’ve just suffered almost a month of shitty cooking at home. I swear, my mom tries but it’s like eating hockey pucks.”
“I’ll be sure to pass on the compliment that Mom’s treats are better than vulcanized rubber,” I deadpanned. I turned away from them to start unpacking my shit. I wanted to take the bulk of tonight to do something I hadn’t been able to do the entire fall semester: study in peace. There were a few readings I wanted to get a jump on before classes started tomorrow morning.
Matt and Brandon, being the type of guys they were, didn’t get pissy with my subtle dismissal. I bit back my amusement when I heard Brandon smack Matt’s hand and Matt yelped. The guy was a human garbage disposal, and if someone didn’t restrain him, he’d eat the whole container of brownies and then be up half the night moaning when his body revolted.
It didn’t take long to unpack. Mom and I had always been broke AF growing up, and that had helped me adopt somewhat of a minimalist lifestyle. That was yet another thing Drake didn’t understand. He thought it was weird that I had enough clothes to get me from one weekend at Mom’s to the next, and that I preferred to not trip over shit all the damn time.
Have I mentioned how stoked I was tonothave a roommate this semester?
Once everything was unpacked, I dug out my headphones and turned on one of my white noise apps. If there was anything I needed to credit Drake for, it was making me desperate enough to try anything to block out the never-ending sound.
I blamed the headphones my Uncle William bought me for Christmas for not realizing I wasn’t alone in the room. I’m not too macho to admit I squealed when noticed the intruder. I tossed my headphones to the desk as I spun around.
“Um, excuse you. I think you’re in the wrong room,” I pointed out, even though I was pretty sure I hadn’t forgotten to lock my door, which meant either he had a key, or he was damn good at breaking and entering. Maybe it was an unfair assumption, but he didn’t strike me as the type who lived a life of crime.
I shit you not, the kid pulled a piece of paper out of the pocket of his button-down shirt and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. His hand shook as he skimmed the paper, then held it out to me. “This is room 401B, right?”
“Yeah, but why are you here?”
“Because this is where housing told me I was staying?” His shoulders hunched forward as he gave a response that sounded more like a question than a statement. “They warned me…”
I leaned against the edge of my desk, waiting for him to finish. He said nothing as he alternated between rubbing his forearms as if he was cold and scratching behind his ear. I checked the housing assignment again, wondering if he’d made his way across campus with this sheet fisted in his hand. It was crumpled, but not like it had been thrown away.
Great, I’d traded an obnoxious party boy for someone who was so skittish he mademenervous.
“Chase, come on, man.” He finally made eye contact when I called him by name. His mouth gaped open and I could see the questions he was dying to ask. I held up the paper. “Your name’s right here at the top. Unless you’re not Chase Kepler, at which point wewouldhave an issue with you being in my room.”
“No, that’s me,” he confirmed.
There was a brief struggle when I tried taking the suitcase he was holding on to for dear life. Finally, I shook my head and stepped back. If the kid wanted to hang onto it like a security blanket, I wasn’t going to fight him. “Sorry man, figured your arm might be getting tired. I think you can figure out which bed and dresser are yours. Make sure you knock before you use the bathroom. Brandon’s a good guy, but he has no sense of humor when he’s interrupted during his daily shit.”
“That’s disgusting.” Chase’s lip curled up and he shuddered. “I don’t need to know about his defecation habits.”
Oh, this was going to be fun. I shook my head and turned back toward my desk. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m trying to get some reading done.”
“Okay. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I was sure he was anything but fine.
