Poison

Chapter 4

I glare at my dorm room door as I wriggle the knob. Seriously? I literally stopped in two minutes ago and put my bag down. My roommate locked me out...again. She only ever does this when she brings guys over. I press my ear against the door and close my eyes out of anger when I hear a male voice. Sexiled once again. That's what I get, I guess, for running downstairs to grab a pack of donuts from the vending machine. Sometimes I question how she manages to invite and pursue a boy in less than fifteen minutes but she never fails to surprise me. Not to mention, it's not even 4PM.

When I agreed to room with Danica, I hoped she'd mellow out a little bit. I heard stories from our mutual friends that she was known for kicking her roommate out of the room to have guys over. I figured that since we're friends, she'd be a bit more transparent and respectful. I assumed that she was just having a wild freshman year. We were friends in high school but apparently she was a completely different person back then. I guess I had hoped she'd return back to her previous behaviors. I was very, very wrong. It's only the third week of classes and I've already been locked out of the room six times.

I drag myself downstairs, checking my phone to make sure I have my keycard. So much for getting back from work, eating my snack, and then taking a quick nap. The least she could've done was put my bookbag in the hallway. Then I'd be able to do something productive. I trek to the coffee shop in hopes of purchasing something loaded with espresso. Upon entering, I hear the familiar bell and smell the familiar mixture of coffee and donuts. My eyes fall on Maya, who looks happy to see me.

"What's up?" she converses as I order an entirely new drink. This one has a lot of caffeine.

"Annoyed," I answer with a roll of my eyes.

"Why?" she asks as she accepts my cash and quickly completes the transaction.

"I've been sexiled yet again," I confess as I drag my hands down my face.

"What? It's 3 in the afternoon," she says as she glances at the clock.

"I know," I retort with a frustrated sigh. "I literally left the room for fifteen minutes to go to the vending machine."

"I'm assuming she does this often?" she notes as she grabs milk from the fridge.

"It's been three weeks and it's happened six times!" I complain in slight exasperation. "This past Saturday night, she tried to bring a guy in while I was asleep. If I didn't get up and switch on my lamp light, she'd have kept going."

"Jeez, was she a random roommate?" she asks with a slight cringe.

"No! We're actually friends! Or we were friends in high school. It's hard to tell now..." I retort as I wave my hands around. "I went random last year and that was absolute hell. Except, a weirder, less s****l hell."

"That's why I chose an apartment this year. My roommates were always weird. Plus, I got sick of living in a dorm room after two years," she responds with an understanding nod. "Also...other reasons." Her eyebrows shoot up and down suggestively and I laugh.

"Yeah, well, my scholarships won't cover an apartment," I respond with a slow shake of my head. "And I definitely don't make enough money with my three shifts at the library."

She gives me another nod. "You're a sophomore, right?" she asks.

"Yeah," I respond as I blow out a low breath. "Not for long, though. I may just drop out if Danica keeps doing this."

"Have you talked to her?" Maya inquires as she looks around the empty coffee shop. Aside from three previously served customers typing away on their laptops, the place is pretty desolate.

"I try but whenever we're in the room together, she's either blasting music and getting ready for a party with her friends or is too hungover to function," I retort with a scoff. "Believe it or not, she spends the majority of her weekdays in the library studying."

"She sounds very promising," Maya mumbles as she scratches the back of her head. "Well, just know that my apartment is always open if you need a place to crash; literally, we never lock it."

"Thanks," I reply with a small smile. If I knew her better, I'd probably take her up on that offer. I don't want to seem like a burden by inviting myself over, especially not so last minute.

"No, seriously, I mean it," she presses. "My freshman year roommate would practically kick me out every weekend. She and her friends would take over the room and I'd be left sleeping on the lounge couch. You don't want to sleep on a lounge couch. I wouldn't want you to sleep on a lounge couch. There were some weird stains on those couches, man...really weird stains."

"I'd hold you to it if I felt like your housemate wouldn't call the police," I joke back.

"Trust me, you'll be fine," she insists with a wave of her hand.

"Thanks, Maya," I comment as I rub my eyes. "Well, I think I'm going to go to the library and use one of those computers to get stuff done."

"Good luck," she replies with a thumbs up. "Are we still on for 5?"

"Yes," I nod as I exit the coffee shop, grumbling quietly about my selfish roommate as I do.

+++

I manage to wiggle my way into my room a little past 4. Danica is nowhere to be found and I don't mind one bit. In a frustrated flurry, I grab my backpack and coat and leave the room. As I'm heading to my car, Maya texts me and tells me that she's out of work and that I can come over whenever as opposed to the scheduled 5 o'clock session. I ask her if she wants a ride and she agrees, so I drive my car to her place of employment.

"You got your bag!" she cheers when she sees it in the backseat.

"Yeah, I took a risk and unlocked the door. She wasn't there, thankfully," I explain as I wait for her to buckle her seatbelt. When she does, I start down the street. "How was your shift?"

We make conversation and she tells me a funny story about a coworker of hers and how hard it is to tell if she's into girls or not. She concludes the story by saying that either way, coworker relationships are messy. After a few seconds of thought she adds that if the girl is into her that she'd risk it...probably. She turns the conversation over to me. "What about you? Are you dating anyone?" she inquires.

"Nope," I answer with a shrug.

"Was that insensitive?" she asks as she bites her fist. "I remember you telling me you just went through a breakup."

"No it wasn't and yes I did–a few months ago now," I explain casually as I make a right turn.

"Is your heart still in shambles?" she questions with quirked brows.

"Psh, no," I quickly dismiss as I pull onto her street. "I've moved on already."

"Seriously?" she asks in slight surprise.

"Yes," I inform her. "That relationship was not the best and if we're being honest, I don't think I was ever fully in it."

"Damn..." she trails as she stares at the cars passing us. "Are you trying to get back out there yet? Or too soon?"

"I'm not opposed to putting myself out there. I just...don't," I explain vaguely. There isn't much else to it. "Plus, guys never really approach me and I'm really picky."

"Do you have a type?" she wonders and when I glance at her, she shrugs. "I have a lot of friends. Maybe I can be of some assistance."

I roll my eyes with a smile. "I don't have a type," I lie. If I explain my type, she'll immediately catch on to the fact that I find her best friend attractive and for some reason, I don't think that'll go over too well. "I just have to click with someone."

"I'll have to invite some friends over then," she suggests with a bright grin. "You've got to get out there. You're truly missing out."