There were spare blankets from freshman
orientation. Leo easily got me a set, solving the
bedding issue. But Ethan stayed in our room
until lights out at 11:30. In the darkness, only the
moonlight filtered through the window. Leo was
already in bed, watching a game. Ethan
remained glued to his chair, focused on his
laptop, making me think he’d stay all night.
I was wrong. The moment Leo’s breathing
evened out in sleep, Ethan closed his laptop,
stood, stretched, and left, closing the door
quietly behind him.
<
“Is he…playing some kind of game?” I asked,
bewildered.
Unbeknownst to me, the moment the door
clicked shut, Leo opened his eyes. Wide awake, he rolled over, a small smile playing on his lips.
- 16.
Having a disciplined and considerate athletic
roommate was pretty awesome. Waking up to
the sight of Leo’s sculpted back and a
breakfast spread on the table took a few seconds to process. I wasn’t in 303 anymore. A
pang of something like loss hit me, quickly followed by a sense of relief. I sat up,
stretching. “Dude, are you secretly a bottom?” I
teased. “You’re so domestic!”
Leo froze mid–change, turning to look at me with a raised eyebrow. “Caleb,” he said dryly, “you really think you’re safe here? Want to test
my physical prowess? Just say the word.”
My grin vanished. I waved my hands frantically. “Just kidding, Leo! Just kidding!”
Leo snorted, grabbed his bag, and headed for
<
the door. He paused, looking me up and down,
a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re kind of…my
type, though.”
Me? His type? I squinted. Don’t think my injured
leg will stop me from giving you a flying kick,
buddy.
“Caleb,” he said, his voice suddenly serious. He
paused, considering. “Moving to 601 is just the
beginning. Being different isn’t scary. Being
different and visible, that’s the challenge. Be
prepared.”
- 17.
I didn’t fully understand Leo’s warning at first.
But it didn’t matter. That afternoon, I got it.
In the half hour between leaving class and
getting back to the dorm, I was trending again.
This time, the post was simple: a video of my
awkward limp and a caption: “Heard the
confession–guy moved to 601. Tsk.”
As a STEM major, I was never great with words.
Now, I was experiencing their power firsthand.
One “tsk,” the mention of 601, the video of my
く
limp…it said everything and nothing. I was
stunned, caught between anger and
helplessness.
A towel suddenly landed on my head, blocking
the hateful comments on my phone screen.
Then my phone was gone. I pulled off the towel.
Leo, fresh from the shower, smelling of soap,
tossed my phone onto the desk.
“People who can change themselves are gods.
People who try to change others are insane,” he
said calmly. “The best way to deal with insane
people is to avoid them. Don’t listen, don’t look,
don’t get upset, and definitely don’t try to
reason with them. Have you ever successfully
reasoned with a crazy person?”
His calmness was unnerving. Like he majored in
philosophy, not badminton.
“Dude,” I said, grinning. “You’re really good at
this whole…Zen master thing.” My earlier gloom
vanished. Leo’s persona was definitely shiny
now.
Leo’s face darkened. He grabbed the antiseptic
bottle and swatted my good leg. “Spread ‘em!”
