caught us in the act. His foot was raised for
another kick, but lowered slowly as he saw Leo.
Chest heaving, he took in Leo’s appearance and
seemed to relax slightly.
“Something I can help you with?” Leo asked,
leaning casually against the doorframe, an
eyebrow raised.
Ethan pushed past him, storming into the room.
He saw my knee, the antiseptic, and his face
fell. For a fleeting second, his eyes held a
<
strange mix of relief and…something else. But
it vanished quickly, replaced by a mask of
indifference. He turned to Leo, his tone
challenging. “Just checking on my old
roommate. Problem?”
“Not a problem,” Leo drawled, glancing at the
growing crowd of onlookers in the hallway. One
raised eyebrow from him and they scattered
like roaches. He turned back to Ethan. “If things got bad enough for a room change, I’d guess you two aren’t exactly on good terms. Are you really just checking in?”
- 13.
Ethan’s face hardened. His hands clenched at
his sides, the veins in his hands standing out. He took a deep breath, then scoffed. “Anyone in this dorm actually normal?” he snapped.
“Scared of a little…non–normality?”
“Ethan!” I snapped, my patience wearing thin. “You’re the one barging into my room. What’s your problem?” What, suddenly he wasn’t
disgusted by “perverted faggots” anymore?
<
There were two of us in here now. He claimed
to be repulsed, yet he kept coming back. What
was his deal?
Ethan looked surprised by my tone. He smirked.
“What? Am I in your way?”
Seriously, what was his problem? I ignored his
comment, glancing pointedly at the darkening
sky outside. “It’s past eight,” I said.
Ever since he stopped dating, Ethan’s schedule
had become predictable. A little after eight was
usually when I studied and he worked out. Six
months of this, and it had become a shared
habit.
Ethan understood. His lips curved into a smirk
that didn’t reach his eyes. “Kicking me out?”
- 14.
“Not exactly,” I said, my tone flat. I didn’t think
we were at a point where we could calmly
coexist in the same room.
Ethan scoffed. “That’s exactly what you’re
doing, Caleb. Kicking me out.”
“Yeah, kicking you out,” I agreed, nodding.
Ethan let out a bitter laugh. He grabbed a chair,
<
sat down, pulled out his phone, and started
playing a game.
I stared. “Ethan, what…”
“Shut up,” he muttered, his face still tight. “You
promised to help me pass the retake.”
Right. There was that. I’d had a killer fever
during our American History final and passed
out mid–exam. Ethan freaked out, carried me to
the hospital, and missed the rest of the test.
We both failed and had to retake it.
Ethan, sprawled next to me in the hospital bed,
had tossed a pen in the air. “How many times,
Caleb?” he’d sighed. “I’ve lost a whole forest of
girlfriends for you. Now I’ve failed a class. You
owe me.”
I wasn’t sure about the girlfriend thing, but the
failed exam? I felt guilty. I glanced at Ethan,
who was already doodling in his textbook.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll make sure you pass the
retake. Okay?”
“Deal! My boy Caleb always comes through!”
The bright, genuine smile on his face was still
vivid in my memory. Now, barely two weeks
<
later, everything felt different.
“Bring your book tomorrow morning. I’ll mark
the key points. Memorize them, and you’ll
pass,” I said. “No need to come here every day
for tutoring. Wouldn’t want to…gross you out.”
I thought it was a considerate offer. Ethan’s
face, however, remained stormy. He opened his
mouth to speak. “I don’t think you’re gross. That
post wasn’t…” He trailed off.
