by Hawke Oakley
“Okay.”
Her brow creased. “Don’t drink too much. And especially don’t drink if someone you don’t know offers you a bottle you didn’t see get opened.”
“I know, I won’t,” I promised, sighing.
She took another step to the door before stopping again. “And go to class. I mean it.”
“Okay, mom.”
She shoved me playfully – although I was small for my age and she was stronger than she looked, and I ended up stumbling back a few feet. “Oof. Hey!”
She smiled and raised a hand in farewell. “See you around campus.”
“Later, Mol.”
And with that, her comforting presence was gone, leaving me vulnerable to the sudden chill in the room. I stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do next. I sat down on my bed, which I was only now noticing was barely five feet to Riley’s. It was like the lack of Molly’s presence made the room smaller somehow.
Riley’s voice broke through my thoughts. He was still standing, his hands thrust into his jean pockets. When he spoke he looked down at me. “That your girlfriend?”
“What?” I recoiled. “No! She’s my sister!”
“Huh,” he said. Then the smug expression returned to his face. “Then I’ve got a shot with her.”
I barked a laugh before I could stop myself. I forgot not everyone knew my sister was a raging lesbian. But Riley turned his sharp eyes on me.
“What’s so funny?” he snapped.
Maybe this could be payback for before. Make him think he had a chance at dating my sister, then watch her humiliate him by turning him down in that blunt Molly-esque way of hers. “Nothing,” I said with a shrug. “She’s just… Not that easy.”
Riley let out a short smug grunt. “We’ll see about that.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rose hearing him talk about my sister like that, but I forced myself to keep quiet.
“So you don’t have a girlfriend right now?” I asked, shifting the subject.
Riley glared at me. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”
A cold shock ran through me before I realized this was the same guy who’d forced me to pick up his belongings at his feet earlier. Right. His composure towards Molly was just a façade. This was the real Riley. A douchebag.
“Fine,” I muttered, turning over so I didn’t have to look at him. I fished out my phone and started going through my social media feeds as I heard Riley grunt and continue to unpack behind me. He brought a lot more stuff than I did, I remembered, and a lot of it heavy electronics – game consoles mostly. I grimaced inwardly, wondering if maybe that was why he’d been so angry with me for dropping them.
I flipped over. “Hey.”
Riley didn't even bother looking over his shoulder at me. “What?”
I had to spit it out. It was too late to take it back already, anyway. “Do you, uh, want any help?”
At this Riley paused and shot me a glance I couldn’t quite read. “Why?” he finally asked.
I shrugged. “You have a lot of stuff.”
He looked like he still didn’t get it. “So?”
Was he acting dumb or did he just have too much pride to let anyone help him?
“So, it’ll go faster if you have another pair of hands helping out,” I said.
At first Riley didn’t look convinced, but then something seemed to click in his mind. His expression changed slightly and then he said, “Fine.”
Surprised that he actually accepted my help, I jumped off the bed. He easily had twice the amount of stuff I had. The room was already pretty small; I wondered if we even had room for all of it.
“Where can I start?” I asked.
Riley stopped what he was doing and cautiously took stock of his belongings. With the slight sneer on his face I figured he was trying to figure out what I could touch that would be the least offensive. I guessed clothes and expensive electronics were already off-limits. Finally he pointed to a box on the far side, next to his dorm-supplied bedside table.
“You can put those on the shelf,” he grunted.
“Okay.”
I kneeled down and opened the meticulously taped box to find a shit ton of hardcover textbooks. There were at least twice the amount of books I had. I blinked. “Are these all yours?”
“Obviously,” Riley muttered as he piled clothes into his closet.
I put my hands under the box and grunted with the effort of lifting it. Immediately the strain of it hit my lower back. “Jesus Christ, this is heavy. How many books do you have in here?”
“Probably more than you.”
I bit back a sharp retort. What the hell was this guy’s problem?
As I pointedly ignored his remark, I trudged to the bookshelf, which was on the other side of the room, almost as if he’d put the heaviest box furthest away on purpose.
“Don't drop anything,” Riley said.
My pride couldn’t not take offense to this one. “I’m short, not weak,” I snapped. “And if you thought I couldn’t carry it, why’d you make me take the heaviest box?”
Talking back seemed to piss him off. He shot me a nasty glare. “Why don’t you stop talking and keep working?”
“Keep working?” I sputtered in disbelief. “I’m doing you a favor!”
“Exactly,” he snapped. “So shut up and hurry already.”
I almost dropped the box in mid-air. Was this guy for real?
Finally reaching the shelf, I dumped the box unceremoniously on the floor and started shoving its contents onto the ledge. Only now after putting the box down did I realize how heavy it was. My muscles would be sore tomorrow.
I lifted a thick textbook by the spine and looked at it. It was a math textbook; it looked cold and intimidating. Curious, I flipped through the pages. It was pristine, untouched – still had that new book smell.
The rest of his books, I noticed, were all similar topics. Science, math, all complicated stuff I wasn’t into. But there was one book that caught my eye. I picked it up and it felt familiar in my hands. I had the same textbook – Philosophy 101. Did we have a class together?
“What the hell are you doing?” Riley snapped. He thundered towards me and snatched the book from my hands.
“What?”
“Did I say you could look through my stuff?”
“It’s – it’s a textbook,” I said in disbelief.
“So?”
With a growl, I got to my feet. Even standing up he was significantly taller than me and I had to raise my face to look at him. I hated it.
“What’s your problem?” I snapped.
“My problem is, I don’t want you putting your hands all over my shit!” he retorted, stepping forward. He was in my space now – trying to intimidate me. It wasn’t going to work. He thought I was a pushover.
“Get out of my face,” I said.
“What are you gonna do if I don’t?”
I felt his breath on my face. The hairs on my arms rose. “Don’t test me,” I muttered.
I looked at Riley – I mean, really looked at him. He looked like he’d never been in a fight in his life. All he had were show muscles – he probably worked out at least once a week on moderate weights. He was taller than me and had broader shoulders, too.
But none of that gave him an advantage if he didn’t know what he was doing.
We stared at each other, like a coyote and a hawk facing off before the same piece of prey, neither one wanting to give up first. My gaze pierced his, and for the first time, I saw something flicker inside his eyes. Recognition.
He looked away first. Grunted and backed off. I smirked when his back was turned and he wouldn’t see it.
“Just finish putting that stuff away,” Riley muttered.
“Fine,” I said.
Once all the books were shelved, I went to fold the cardboard box it came in.
“What are you doing?” Riley mumbled.
“I’m folding it so you can re-use it later,” I said.
“Re-use it? Just throw it out, I don’t need it anymore.”
“What about when you move out of the dorm?” I asked.
“I’ll just buy more boxes,” he muttered.
“That’s a waste,” I said bluntly.
“What are you, the environment police?” Riley threw his hands in the air. “Jesus Christ. Fine, do whatever you want.”
I wanted to mutter ‘You’ll thank me later’ but kept it to myself. Riley was the type that wouldn’t thank me later, anyway.
I stowed the box on the floor of his closet, then began working on the other empty ones. This time Riley didn’t say anything, just eyed me strangely. When we were both finished, both our things were arranged and the folded boxes were all put away. I stood and crossed my arms, examining our handiwork. It actually looked like a real dorm room now.
“Not bad,” I said. “It’s a nice room, huh?”
“I’ve seen better,” Riley said with a yawn, already sprawled across his bed.
Of course he had. “Where?”
“The other buildings – the newer ones.”
I couldn’t help but shoot him a snarky comment. “Why didn’t you choose one of those, then? Too expensive?”
He took offense to that. He sat up immediately on his elbows. “No, actually.”
“Then what’s the problem?” I asked.
Riley scoffed. “None of your business.”
I was getting real tired of hearing that. “Fine.”
I slumped onto my bed, face-first into the pillow so I wouldn’t have to look at his stupid face any longer. Having him as a roommate was going to be harder than I thought. At least I’d only be in the room to sleep, I thought with a grimace.
I remembered my conversation with Molly earlier and how he’d wanted to try to date her. Riley was straight. Great. I sighed into the pillow.
Maybe tomorrow would be a better day.
Chapter Three
Tomorrow was not a better day.
To my relief at the time, Riley had left sometime in the evening to join a bunch of rowdy freshmen down the hall to party. I closed the door after he was gone to try and get some peace. I had a headache, for one thing, and Molly had warned me my new floor mates were more likely to prank guys. Great.
I’d have all semester to get to know them as actual friends, but I right now I just wanted to stay out of trouble and take a damn nap.
As I drifted off, I thought about how nice and quiet the room was without Riley there. Even when he wasn’t speaking, his off-putting aura clogged up the room, like humidity on a cold day. But when he was gone, the dorm room was almost pleasant.
That’s what I thought, anyway, before he came back off-the-walls drunk at 2am.
The stench of alcohol hit me like a brick as he staggered inside after what sounded like his third attempt at working the keycard lock on the door. My nose wrinkled.
“You up?” he called, too loudly.
“Keep your voice down,” I snapped. “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”
“What?” He turned slowly, sluggishly, towards me.
I glared at him. “I said, be quiet.”
“Shaddup,” he slurred. I half-braced myself for an argument, but to my relief, he collapsed on his bed a moment later and instantly passed out. I sighed and turned to face the wall and hopefully get some sleep.
I learned something that night – namely, that Riley snored.
I groaned and tried to block the noise out with my pillow, but in grated on the silence of the dorm like nails on a chalkboard. If the sound wasn’t bad enough, the sour reek of alcohol had already permeated throughout the room, coating everything.
I shut my eyes tight. It was going to be a long night.
Something was blaring through the groggy daze. I groaned and flipped over, one arm over my eyes and fumbled for the noise. Coming from my phone. I thumbed at it until it shut off, then promptly fell back asleep.
I woke with a start.
Something was wrong. Butterflies of anxiety fluttered in my chest.
What time was –
I saw the numbers flashing on my phone. 8:28 AM.
“Oh, fuck.”
I scrambled to my feet, tripped over the covers, and got up. My very first class started in two minutes and I was still in my fucking underwear.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
I chanted Fuck over and over as I shoved my legs into my jeans and hurriedly threw on a random shirt. No time for breakfast or even to take a piss. I had one foot out the door when I realized with a jolt I’d forgotten my bag. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Doubling back, I grabbed it and lunged out the door.
I only realized in hindsight that Riley was missing when I saw him balking in front of the door to the lecture hall. I almost ran into him – again.
“Jesus – what are you doing here?” I remembered this was the same class we shared. Philosophy. And it’d started a solid fifteen minutes ago.
Riley jumped at the sound of my voice, and turned to look at me like a beggar on the street had just approached him. I tried to ignore it. “What? I’m – I’m waiting to go in.”
“Then go!” I snapped in a hushed whisper. “Class started already!”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he snorted.
“Then why the hell are you standing out here?”
Visibly agitated by my presence, he took this as his chance to finally enter the room, if only just to get away from me. He cursed under his breath as we entered, one after the other.
I sucked back my gasp.
The lecture hall was fully packed to the brim. Every single seat was taken.
Half a thousand pairs of eyes were on Riley and I. A bead of sweat rolled down my neck. Then the professor turned his gaze slowly on us.
Half a thousand and one.
“Yes?” his voice boomed over the microphone. His thin grey eyebrows made his face look sharp and angry.
Suddenly I knew why Riley had hesitated to go in. I swallowed thickly.
“We’re in this class.” My voice sounded small to my own ears. I immediately regretted speaking.
The professor paused. “You’re late.”
Beside me, Riley stiffened. He stared at off to the side, wishing for this spectacle to be over. I didn’t blame him.
“Sorry,” I said, dropping my gaze to the floor.
He sighed, then I half-expected him to kick us out because of the lack of seats. But then he pointed deliberately to a pair of vacant seats right at the very front of the room – closest to the podium he spoke from. I wished the ground would open up and swallow me.
With the slightest grunt, Riley stiffly trudged towards the seats. I’m sure he felt the burn of eyes on the back of his head just as much as I did. That was the only solace I had – that, at the very least, he was sharing this humiliation with me. Although it wasn’t saying much when you had to share it with someone you hated.
We sat down. Our elbows brushed by accident, and Riley jerked his arm away like I’d burned him. He made a low sound in his throat and awkwardly put his arm in his lap, as far away from mine as possible. I mentally rolled my eyes. I get it, you’re straight and would rather die than touch another guy even by accident.
Now that we were both seated and the worst of the humiliation was over, the prof continued his lecture. But I couldn’t concentrate. My heart was still pounding and my palms were clammy from anxiety. I hadn’t expected the lecture hall to be so… big. It towered behind me, bigger than any room I’d ever seen before. It was like the size of an auditorium. I wondered if it would get less overwhelming with experience.
I slumped back in the seat, letting it rock slightly back. I read the prof’s name on the chalkboard, which he’d kindly made as large as possible for the people in the back. Dr. Z. What a fucking name. I could hear him talking, but none of his words were registering. They flew over my head as I was lost in my fog of embarrassment.
I gritted my teeth. This was
ridiculous. I had to try to focus.
Just as I tried to do that, I heard a repetitive tapping sound right next to me.
Riley’s foot.
Suddenly that was all I could focus on. The irritating constant sound of his shoe against the floor as he vibrated his leg. Didn’t he realize how loud he was being? Didn’t anyone else hear that? I felt like I was losing my mind.
“Hey,” I muttered, as quietly as I could.
Riley didn’t seem to notice I was trying to get his attention. His eyes bore ahead, almost as if he was looking through the prof instead of at him. His foot was still tapping.
“Riley,” I whispered.
Trying to keep your voice down and get someone’s attention at the same time was proving to be fucking difficult. If I spoke any louder, I’d be heard by someone else for sure, and the last thing I needed right now was more humiliation.
Tap tap tap.
It was like Riley’s fucking foot tapping on the floor was the only sound in the entire lecture hall. I was already exhausted from lack of sleep since he barged into the dorm earlier and from his constant snoring – now I had to deal with this, too?
Since he wasn’t going to listen, I had to take matters into my own hands.
In one fluid motion I reached over and shoved my palm firmly on top of his vibrating knee.
There was a pause. A moment of peace. No more tapping.
Then Riley exploded.
“What the fuck?” he snapped. “Don’t fucking touch me!”
There it was again. That awful, heavy silence of a room full of people staring at you. I closed my eyes, retracted my hand, and wished I would just disappear.
Dr. Z cleared his throat and lowered his voice, although it didn’t make much difference since he was speaking into a microphone. “Is there a problem, gentlemen?”
I forced myself to open my eyes. “No, sir,” I said quietly.
But Riley was balking beside me, his mouth agape and his expression offended. I could just hear his voice in my mind now: Of course there’s something wrong! This asshole is touching my leg! Arrest him!
Dr. Z let out a quiet exhale, gripped the edge of his podium, pushed up his glasses, and continued his lecture.