MY RIVAL BECOME MY LOVER

Chapter 5:The Rule

The next morning, I woke up to find my side of the room too clean.

My desk was organized. My books were stacked by size. My dirty hoodie that I had thrown on the floor last night was now folded neatly on my chair.

And Brian was sitting on his bed, eating cereal, acting like nothing happened.

"You touched my stuff," I said, my voice still hoarse from sleep.

Brian looked up. "You left your hoodie on my side. I was being nice."

"Nobody asked you to be nice. Rule number one of Room 14: don't touch my stuff."

He raised an eyebrow. "You made that rule last night in your head?"

"Yes. And rule number two: no organizing my side."

Brian put his cereal bowl down. "Okay, Jay. Then what's your side? Show me the line."

I looked at the floor. There was no line. Room 14 was small. Two beds, two desks, one window. Our things were already mixing together.

"That side," I pointed to the left. "My side. This side is yours."

"The middle?" He asked.

"The middle is no man's land."

Brian stood up. He was wearing grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. His hair was still wet from a shower. He smelled like my shampoo. Wait, my shampoo?

"Is that my shampoo?" I asked.

He froze. "Maybe."

"Brian!"

"What? You have expensive shampoo. Mine finished yesterday. I thought roommates share."

"We do not share shampoo! Rule number three!"

He laughed. That stupid perfect laugh. "God, Jay, how many rules are you going to make? Write them down. Make a list and stick it on the fridge."

We didn't have a fridge.

I got out of bed and grabbed my towel. "I'm going to shower. And don't use my shampoo again."

"I won't," he said, but he was smiling.

The bathroom in our dorm building was shared. Six showers for the whole floor. I locked the stall and turned the water to hot. As water ran over me, I thought about last night. The kiss. The kiss I almost gave him. The kiss he might have wanted too.

When I came back, Brian was gone. But there was a small yellow sticky note on my desk.

_Sorry about the shampoo. Bought you new one. Under your bed. - B_

I looked under my bed. There was a brand new bottle of the same shampoo I use. The expensive one. $25.

He didn't have to do that.

I sat on my bed and stared at the note. His handwriting was messy but confident. Big B.

The door opened. Brian came back with two coffees.

"I got you coffee," he said, handing me one. "Black, no sugar. Like you drink in class."

How did he know how I drink my coffee?

"Thanks," I mumbled.

He sat on his bed, facing me. "So, about last night."

My heart stopped. "What about last night?"

"You were going to say something. Before you fell asleep. You were leaning in."

I felt my face go red. "I was not. I was... checking if you had fever. You looked sick."

"I didn't look sick."

"You did. Very sick."

Brian leaned forward. His bed was only two feet away from mine. If I leaned too, our knees would touch.

"Jay," he said quietly. "If you want to kiss me, just kiss me. You don't need to make up excuses."

I choked on my coffee.

"What? I don't want to kiss you! Who said I want to kiss you? Delusional!"

"Delusional? Really? You're the one who was staring at my lips for ten minutes last night while I was trying to study."

"I was not staring at your lips! I was staring at your... your pimple! You have a pimple!"

"I don't have a pimple."

"You do! Right there!" I pointed randomly at his face.

He grabbed my finger. His hand was warm.

"Jay."

"Brian."

We were both holding our breath. His hand was still holding my finger. His eyes dropped to my mouth. My eyes dropped to his.

The dorm room door banged open.

"Yo! Room 14! Party tonight! You guys coming?"

It was Mike from Room 12. Brian dropped my hand instantly.

"No," I said quickly.

"Yes," Brian said at the same time.

Mike looked between us. "Which is it?"

Brian stood up. "We will come. What time?"

"9pm. My room. Bring drinks."

After Mike left, silence.

"Why did you say yes?" I asked. "I hate parties."

"Because you need to go out. You stay in this room too much. And..." he hesitated. "I want to go with you."

I looked at him. He looked back, serious now, no smile.

"As roommates?" I asked.

He didn't answer for a few seconds. Then he smiled again, but small.

"Yeah. As roommates."

But the way he said it didn't sound like just roommates.

At 8:55pm, Brian knocked on my desk. "Ready?"

I was wearing my black hoodie and jeans. He was wearing a black shirt that was too tight, showing his arms.

"You look..." he started.

"Don't."

"You look good."

I swallowed. "You too."

We walked to Room 12 together. The music was loud. People were drinking. Someone saw us enter together and shouted, "Room 14 in the house!"

Brian's hand brushed against mine as we walked in. Accident? Maybe not.