An hour later. . .
After dinner, which wasn't that long since everyone scarfed down the tacos in a matter of minutes, I put up whatever was left, and made an extra plate for Andreas.
Carlee volunteered to do the dishes, and Doug helped her out. I guess now they're dating, or maybe just courting each other, I'm not sure, they've been inseparable. They both eat breakfast at the table, giggling about whatever. And during the night, they sit in the living room watching Hawkeye and Loki on Disney plus cuddled under the covers with popcorn and candy.
Jill got to know my roommates better, and they her. She spent most of the dinner staring down Daniel, her grey eyes never left him. Every bite, drink, and move he made, she was on alert. I don't know if Daniel would be her type, not because of the way she looks, but because she's young. Jill is beautiful, no doubt about it, but Daniel doesn't seem like a person to date.
Plus, he's been super secretive lately. When I walk in the room, he'll hide whatever he's doing, or act like he was taking a nap before going to study group. I don't know what it is, but I want to figure it out.
Everything must have gone well since Bridget never came home or called me. During dinner, she shot me a text saying that it's going fine. I'm assuming she didn't tell him, because if my significant other told me they slept with their old boyfriend/girlfriend, I would freak the fuck out. I'll give a quick prayer to God tonight to look out for Bridget.
Monica tortured everyone during dinner to listen to her repeat different sayings for her radio show. Turns out, tons of people on campus are listening in, and asking for her advice, so she wants to up the antics. She tried it out with a deep voice, then a high-pitched and even a foreign accent to which we all shut down since it would be culturally inappropriate.
Once everyone was done, and long gone, I grab the plate of two tacos and heat them in the microwave. After they were heated up, I added dip and chips to the plate. He might be hungry, and I didn't want him to come down here and see all the food was gone. And to add on, I didn't want the house to see me bringing him a plate of food, they'll think something was going on between us, or that I cared about him.
Do I care about him? Hell, there's a steaming plate of tacos with chips and dip in my hand as I walk up the staircase to his room. I won't lie, to see him come in angry did scare me a bit since I've never seen him angry, also sadness danced in his eyes. I need to ask around about this Jessie chick, get more information about her.
Walking up to his door, I see it's cracked open. I get a clear view of his bed, he's lying on it, the TV's on but he's not watching. The sounds of Meredith screaming soar through the TV.
I knock, "Never took you as a Grey's Anatomy fan." His head turns to the door, once he sees it's me a dainty smile comes to his face, which warms me up inside. Oh god, I didn't just get 'warm' from a guy's smile, especially this guy's smile.
"Let me assure you, I am not." He lets out a groan once he lifts himself off the bed into a sitting position. "My sister tried to get me to watch it, too much drama for me. How many bombs threats, shoot outs, and tornados can one show have?"
I laugh, walking more into his room, "The fact that the show is still on the air is a mystery that will never get solved. I used to watch it, but got tired of it."
His eyes move to the plate of tacos in my hands, I see his mouth water. "Please let those tacos be for me."
"They are." I hand him the plate, which he grabs quickly and starts chowing down on the tacos. While he eats, I walk around his room, observing. It's so weird that I have never been in his room. The first view of it I got was when he was fucking that Ollie chick, sometimes that memory comes back to me in the dead of night when the birds have stopped chirping and the winds silent.
Different sports posters are pinned to his wall, all of them from football players. A painting is over his chest that sits adjacent to his bed, it's a naked woman. I'm just going to assume that picture is from Katherine, whom he used to fuck, or even Larry.
To finish up in his room, a basket of dirty clothes is in front of his cube organizer with the TV on top. His room is pretty empty, not a lot of character to it. "Like the room?" He asked, his mouth being stuffed with tacos.
"It can be better," I say with irony in my voice. I turn to him, crossing my arms. "I assume you like the tacos?"
"Surprisingly, yes. Guess you're good at something." My eyes roll.
I ease down on the bed next to him, my palms rubbing against my boyfriend jeans. "So, you want to talk about why you were so angry coming in."
I see his jaw tense; the chewing of the tacos seizes to exist. "Yes." I pat his back and head towards the door.
"Look, I get it, don't you worry. Not everyone likes to talk about their problems, especially to someone they barely know. Trust me, no bruising on my part-"
"Elizabeth?"
"Mhm."
"I said that I DO want to talk." My mouth forms into an 'O'.
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