Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 140523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 703(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 703(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Fewer words, Zoe. Use fewer words, please.
He seemed to process what I had just blurted out and opened his mouth to answer, but before any words could come out, I sprang up from my seat in the hopes of ending the conversation. “You know what, none of this matters since it happened two years ago. I’d forgotten about it until you brought it up.” I stopped talking. He was staring at me, seeing right through my lie. Closing my eyes, I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Okay, I’m lying. I didn’t forget about it, but I’d like to forget about it since it wasn’t one of my finest moments, if that’s okay with you. Now that we’re going to be roommates, I think that’s for the best. If you’re staying here, I should show you your room.”
Without looking at his face, I walked by him and toward the hallway that led to the extra room he would be staying in, right across from my room—two steps away from my room, if you want me to be absolutely exact.
My new roommate.
When life throws you a wide receiver out of nowhere, what are you supposed to do with him? Try your best not to look at him for too long, maybe? That’d be a good rule of thumb, I thought.
I heard his footsteps, so I knew he was following me. I opened the door and waited for him to step inside, all the while making sure not to look him in the eye. Like I said, I still needed time—alone. I needed time to calm down and process everything.
There wasn’t much furniture in the room. Just like mine, it had a pretty comfortable twin bed, a small wardrobe, a nightstand, a window that overlooked the road…and that was pretty much it, just the bare necessities, which was still better than most student apartments.
He walked past me and dumped a duffel bag right next to the bed, the same bag I’d thought he was using to stash my equipment in. I watched him quickly take everything in and then nod. “No desk, huh?”
“A desk?”
“You know, to study on?”
“Do you guys really study? I mean jocks, athletes—I always wondered. I thought you had other students do that for you.”
Stupid, stupid me.
Facing me, he raised his brows, and this time there was no playful smile forming on his lips. “I hadn’t pegged you as someone who would stereotype people.”
His words sank in, and I felt another flush in my cheeks. He was right—I actually hated people who stereotyped everyone, people who judged before actually getting to know a person. I was making an ass of myself yet again. Maybe it was something about him that unsettled me? That triggered the word vomit? It was easier to put the blame on him instead of admitting I was acting like a bitch.
Letting go of the door handle, I shook my head and backed up. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know you. I know a few people who play and just because they would rather die than open a book or take notes, that doesn’t mean you’re like that too. I’m sorry.” I reached for my own door and broke our brief eye contact, mostly focusing on his ear and the window behind him—anywhere but his eyes. “This is my room.” I pointed over my shoulder. “I’ll let you get settled in and maybe see you around later.” I opened the door and before disappearing inside, I turned back. “Oh, about the desk—I don’t have one in my room either, so I bought one off of Craigslist last year. It’s in the living room. I’m not sure if you saw it with everything else going on, but my camera equipment was on it. It’s pretty small, but it gets the job done. I rarely use it anyway, mostly use the coffee table. I’ll get my stuff off of it, so you’re welcome to use it anytime you want.”
Without waiting for an answer, I closed my door.
Alone—finally.
After resting my forehead against the door for a few seconds, I quietly banged my head on it and didn’t even care that he could hear.
Chapter Five
Dylan
Two hours had passed since I had settled into my new room and Zoe had disappeared into hers. So far, I had been attacked, and with a rolling pin, no less. I’d been flashed (granted, not voluntarily) and stereotyped, all by the same girl—the same girl who had intrigued me so much the two times we’d bumped into each other. I was still intrigued, maybe even more so, and I knew I shouldn’t have been. I’d mistaken a few girls for her a handful of times, which meant my eyes had been searching for her ever since our last run-in and I wasn’t even fully aware of it. That same girl was my new roommate.