My Hot Roommate

The First Night │Chapter 5 │

            ACCLIMATIZING IS UNBEARABLE, especially with a roommate like Liam and in this big new university. My first-day classes are distressing. Because the opening week had already passed before I set my foot on this campus, the professors asked me to introduce myself. The purpose of this dismaying and meaningless self-introduction is for everyone to know that I will be with them until senior year. And, of course, for them to get to know me.

            Neanderthals. I can make it to the senior year myself solely.

            I am still coping.       

            Vacant time varies from day to day, as my schedule told me. At noontime, the lunchtime, I spend it inside our dorm room, burning myself in fury while cleaning Liam’s mess. I know he plans nothing on cleaning his mess. And I cannot live in such an unpleasant room. So, although this is really gone far for me, I gather all his smelly clothes and underwear and put them in the laundry basket. I have no choice. I cannot ask him to do it.

            Eight o’clock in the evening falls. I am through cleaning my roommate’s mess and the whole room. And it is my time to arrange my clothes and other things in the drawers. While in the middle of putting my shoes on the lower shelves, I feel a small immense joy about something. From mid-afternoon to this time, I noticed that Liam never entered this room. Or just even came to peek. That gives me a thought that he spends most of his day outside of this dorm room, which flatters me. It means, while I have no friends or no one to talk or hang up with, I’ll be staying in this room in every leisure time. Alone, and no roommate, witless.

            Half-past nine in the evening comes, and I am through to everything. Finishing all the work without seeing the repulsive figure of my roommate is a kind of like achieving a trophy or capturing the best picture. Between nine and eight, I already bought my dinner, which is only a burrito, outside of the campus down the fast-food restaurant.

            Decently, this is not dinner in the eyes of my mom. But who cares now than me? I ran out of time to think and prepare for this meal.

            While still alone in this room, I place my laptop and my dinner food on top of my newly polished desk. And also, my greatest treasure, which is my camera. I brought it while on the way out of the university, and for the first time in Los Angeles, started taking pictures of the lovely evening sky and fascinating buildings I find attractive. I even captured the hand of the employee at the restaurant while he took my burrito order. How childish of me.

            I love photographing!

            At first mouth-watering bite to my burrito, while my DSLR transfers the new pictures that I take to my laptop, Lucas, my introvert and bookworm friend, wants to have a video call with me and to the rest OBALL Squad.

            OBALL Squad is my squad in San Diego. When I was a freshman in  College of Fine Arts and Photography, I met four amazing friends who too loves photographs. We build this beautiful friendship, naming it the OBALL Squad. The word OBALL stands no other than our names: Olive, Ben, Ava, Louie, and Lucas.

            We are just all together, celebrating my 20th birthday yesterday. I cannot believe that next Sunday is five more days ahead. I can no longer wait to see them – and so my family. Counting five days from now begins.

            Of course, without further ado, I join the call. But none of the others has joined the call – probably busy. Yet still, I am happy that Lucas is here. I instantly open my laptop camera so he can see me as I can see him very well. His eyes seem unease, and so I ask.

            “Are you okay?”

            “Yeah, I’m fine,” his answer is quicker than usual whenever I ask him. My laptop speaker audio changes his voice deeper which is what I am used to when video chatting. “Are you?”

            “Exhausted,” I swallow my first bit before answering Lucas.

            “Did you run?”

            “No.” Every time I say I am exhausted, Lucas always throws this question next. He knows that only running can make me answer exhausted. “I cleaned this whole room myself.”

            Lucas gives his smile with confusion, again, asking, “Isn’t it clean when you came there?”

            “Oh, you wouldn’t believe what I saw when the dorm supervisor and I entered this room. It’s a whole mess. Liam is a very untidy man,” I reply, getting another bite from this dreamy burrito. Burritos here in California are good.

            “Liam? Your roommate?” Lucas raises his right brows with his question.

            “Yes, my roommate. What crazy peculiar happened this morning the most is I saw – ” without having my reply come to a period, suddenly, and really unexpected, the main door of our room burst open. And unanticipated and unprepared, my whole body startles, making me uncontrol every sense I have for a few seconds. Right after I jump in horror, I change my voice into an exhilarating one, also changing our conversation, “…oh, yeah? And how’s the whole class with Professor Nitwi –, I mean, Professor Nathan?”

            There is no such human name as “Nitwit”. What was I thinking? I really am in a panic because of my nitwit roommate’s sudden arrival. I did not mind him at first. But, on the second thought, I observe him, waiting for his jaw to drop on the floor, pick it up, fell on his knees while palms are close, begging for how dirty he is and thanking me for cleaning this room.

            But there is none yet – let him admire first how clean I am. Then, Lucas, whom I almost forget talking on my laptop and who becomes immediately confused by me, talks again, “What happened to you?”

            It seems like Lucas does not know what I am trying to do. Clearly, I am trying to change our whole discussion. Instead of talking about my new roommate, I want to know how their second week started in sophomore year. After I place my burrito back on the plate, I starts to type a message. I have no choice but to use my burrito-smell fingers on my laptop’s keyboard.

            “He’s back! My roommate!”

            “Play along with what I just said.” I send another chat message after the first one. To my utmost relief, Lucas has immediately seen and reads them.

            But then Olive reads it too, and her face appears promptly on the screen, greeting and asking enthusiastically, “Hi, guys! Louie, who’s the new roommate?”

            I am embarrassed.

            Her voice almost breaks my laptop speakers. It echoes inside this room, and Liam hears it unequivocally. I am ruin. Liam will be thinking that we are talking about him. I have not felt this awkward before. I glimpse at Liam, who is on the sofa and his backpack beside him. He is only throwing up in the air his phone, then catching in with the same hand, probably thinking that we are talking about him. I am not sure.

            Then Ava and Ben join the video chat after reading my messages on the group chat, Ava yelling at her laptop camera. “Tell us about your roommate, Louie! Isn’t this day is your first time living in a dormitory? How’s the new university?”

            I now regret ignoring my earbuds from my bag.

            Like Lucas, I instantaneously fall into silence. I cannot answer their questions. All I care about now is myself. What excuse must I say to let Liam know that we are not discussing him at the moment?

            I am discombobulated. Will this never end?

            “I am expecting you to wait for me before cleaning this room. I don’t know what to say, new guy.”

            Someone snatches my palpitant heart and mortifying soul away.

            Without seeing or hearing it coming from him, Liam’s voice circulates and drifts to the air around me. Discomfited by it, my mind lost its privileges. Out of the blue, in this freshly laundered silent room with my roommate, sitting on the hot heat of this desk chair while staring at my friends, I appear vacuous and inscrutable.

            Liam stands up from his seat. I can feel his moves without looking at him. Delaying no more seconds to pass, I leave the video call, close my laptop lid, creating a thud sound and speaking, at last, to Liam while facing him;

            “Well, since I have no other things to do after my class, I thought of cleaning this room,” I nervously chuckle at what I just said, and my uncontrollable mouth adds, “Honestly, tediously hits me very quickly when nothing else to do.”

            He takes his backpack, stretching his head, without eyeing me, replying, “I’m going to bed. And don’t make too much noise, new guy.”

            New guy? It is the second time my ears catches it from him. What’s with it? It sounds nothing more or less than an incessant abominable insult. The current obscenity has awakened my kipping abhorrence and exasperation. And it did when this dishonourable and pathetic guy orders his roommate to lessen the irreducible noise.

            I watch him stroll to the bedroom of this dorm. I scoff at him after he closes the door, speaking to my enraging mind, “I hope you like the arrangement of your bed, repugnant roommate.”

            Yes, apart from the stinky bedsheets of my supposed-to-be bed, I did clean his foul bed this afternoon. Along with it, of course, is his disarrayed things on top of his filthy drawers and shelves. But, despite the cleaning that I did to my dust-covered unpleasing smell bedsheets, I will not use it tonight as I turn out to be still dissatisfied. It needs another cover for me to sleep into that bed.

            While I do not know what to do next, either open my laptop or finish my burrito, I stay on this seat, overthinking if Liam was paying attention to my friend’s behaviour before.

            The following minutes are outrageous. Basically, I am still in my seat, dwelling upon the moment earlier that I know I cannot change. Neither burrito nor laptop has been touch by my fingers. Eyes are busy looking everywhere – Liam’s sport’s banner when he was a freshman, my shoes on my shelves, Liam’s computer, outside the window, on the sofa – as the ticking of the second hand clock tocks and piques my ears.

            My eyes gaze ignorantly at that clock – the hour hand points at ten, minute hand points between two and three, while the second hand keeps on moving. It is from the number six moving to forward. It is 10:08 P.M.

            After reading the analogue clock, I shake my head, attempting my senses to come back. It did after more seconds, but my head suddenly craves a soft, comfortable pillow. I think I overshook my head because I feel dizzy more after. I can feel my body falling more energy though I am at my seat. I cannot clearly think of anything else than that soft, comfortable pillow.

            Sleepy.

            I fight my lacking energy and take the burrito in my mouth. With large bites and a minute, or even less, of chewing every bite, I devour the burrito without surpassing five minutes. I leave the plate on the top desk, beside my lid-closed laptop, and drink water from my tumbler.

            I stand up and starts to walk to the bathroom door. Once I make it inside, I approach my sink and wash my hands – drying them to my dirty shorts. Storming out of the bathroom, feeling really exhausted after what I have done for this room, I come to the other door – the door to my and my roommate’s beds.

            Succeeding to turn around the doorknob, pushing the door not quite fully open, I make the biggest mistake of this day. I thought finishing to polish the room or seeing Liam in complete bare skin was the worst. I am wrong.

            The room is dark, not literally. The lights are off, but Liam’s laptop’s brightness comes enough for me to see the worst. His laptop sits at the very centre of his knees while he is leaning his back snugly on the wall, his legs spread widely, entirely nude, and his right hand is on his pleasure-giver hard rod.

            I gasp at what I see inside, closing the door ajarly to block my naked roommate from my sight. I pause at the door for a moment, hearing his undesirable soft moans and the sloppy sound it creates while moving his hand jerkily on his pleasure-giver. This guy must know that he lives in a dorm room with a new roommate.

            “Never seen a jerking man before?” Liam is not bothered by me. He continues to work himself for his pleasure – m**********g.

            Again, I open the door, and without looking at him, I turn on the lights. Still hearing the nauseating sounds, I proceed towards my drawer, pretending he does not exist in this room. Nor even in this world. But his voice reminds me that he indeed exist when we repeat his vexing question.

            “Hey, Louie. Never seen a jerking man before?”

            This time, I answer him, showing a slight irritation and bluntly, “Of course, I did. I’m not retarded, and I know how the internet works. But I have never seen a strange jerk jerking right in front of my eyes.”

            I succeed to take my dry towel from my drawer, departs the room without listening to any of Liam’s unspeakable entertainment sounds. Rage and disgust enliven me, hoping to see nothing more than what I just saw. My steps to the bathroom become faster, wanting my ill self to sleep already.

            But where?

            If not desire to use the bed for me, where?

            Wherever. I am sure I can come up with something somewhere else while in the shower. But while in the shower, I can think of nothing else than getting out of this university.

            Done cleaning myself in the shower, I got out with my bathrobe on. The room is silent – I listen closely for confirmation. Liam must have fallen asleep already. I am not going to check inside if he indeed is. I do not care.

            Elation.

            But I do still have a problem. Where in this room I am going to sleep comfortably? The bed inside? This sofa?

            Disappointments.

            Twenty-four minutes before an hour ahead midnight. 10:36 P.M.

            I sit back in my desk chair, air drying my wet hair, staring at the burrito plate and my laptop. I have forgotten already the pictures I am transferring when my eyes set to my DSLR. Yet again, I feel and desiderate a soft, comfortable pillow.

            Busy thinking about my sleeping bed for tonight, I move my laptop, DSLR, tumbler and the plate to the side of the desk. On its vacant space, I rest my head and left arm gingerly. Then without realizing it, while the dorm room’s light is left unclosed, surrounding serene, feeling the solidity of this wooden desk, my eyes gradually shut close.

            In the fullness of time, this day ends.