‘It’s after ten.’
‘I was studying for a long time.’
Lingering by the door, she’s the one studying me. Her eyes are really, really blue, like sapphires, and her smudgy eyeliner makes them look enormous. Insane that Gabe never mentioned the fact she’s this cute when she tutored him. The guy is such a pussy hound, he would fuck a Hot Pocket if it was the only option. Then a thought hits me. Maybe that’s why she hates me so much.
‘You and Gabe,’ I say, both of us still holding our positions. ‘Did you two ever … ?’
‘Did we ever what?’
I pinch my shoulders together, tapping the fork against my thigh.
‘You know. Hook up.’
‘Me and Gabe?’
The way her face scrunches up with disgust gives me my answer.
‘Just asking. I’m secure enough in my masculinity to say he’s a good-looking guy.’
‘Not my type.’
‘What is your type?’
She shakes her head as though she can’t believe she’s being forced to deal with me.
‘Ethan, it’s been a long day, I’m exhausted. Can we not?’
‘Not what?’
‘Look,’ she presses her fingers into her temples before she speaks again, like she has to squeeze the words out of her brain, ‘I’m sorry about earlier. What I said about your girlfriend.’
Now we’re both studying each other. She looks like she’s trying to predict my reaction, and I can’t tell if she’s being genuine or not. Is she really sorry or does she just want to squeeze me for gossip to report back to the Marshall masses? I can’t exactly say why but I don’t think that’s it. Something in those huge blue eyes says she’s not the type.
‘And I’m sorry for whatever I did,’ I say. ‘All the noise this morning. Trust me, it was worse from where I was standing.’
‘Fine,’ she sighs. ‘Can I please get by?’
I hold up my hands in surrender and she scoots around me, walking down the hallway towards her room. She’s dragging her feet, like those boots each weigh the same as a family sedan.
‘You sure you don’t want anything? I’m making dinner.’
She stops in front of the kitchen, and steps inside with a suspicious expression, brushing past my body as I hold the door open. She actually has kind of a great ass.
‘That’s dinner?’
She points to the cup on the counter and I nod.
‘Choice of champions.’
‘You would get more nutrition from eating the container than whatever’s inside.’
‘Nu-uh.’ I pick up the cup,carefully, and read out the information panel on side. ‘Pot Noodle, King Sticky Rib, 525 calories, twenty grams of fat, eleven grams of protein, seventy-three grams of carbs and two point one grams of salt. Shit, that’s really not great.’
‘How does it taste?’
Peeling back the lid, I wind up a noodle onto my fork and take a bite. Clamping my teeth together to keep it in, I throw up an okay sign.
‘That good?’
