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“‘C’est la Mort’ by The Civil Wars.”
He gave me a look like that wasn’t what he was expecting.
“What? Don’t know it? Not hip enough for you?” He looked away from me and down at the guitar. He plucked a few notes. I waited.
Then the song emerged from his fingers, slow and haunting. I sat back against my pillows, getting lost in the music. I hated to admit it; he played very well. He hadn’t had just a few lessons last week. He’d been playing for years. He finished the song with a flourish and looked up at me. The dreamy look was there again, and it took longer for him to put it away.
“Singing is extra,” he said.
“You can dance, you can play the guitar. Jesus, Hunter, what can’t you do?”
“I’m very good at a lot of things. If you want to come over here, I can show you a few more,” he said, laying the guitar back in the case. My throat suddenly went dry, and I had to swallow. His comments had been different when we were fully clothed and with a group of people. In this dark, quiet room they took on a heavier meaning, or at least they did to me. I was making too much of it.
I sat up. There was something about lying down that made me feel more vulnerable.
“I’m not sorry for punching you,” I said for no reason in particular. My hand was still swollen and sore, and I hoped his face hurt for a long time.
“I know you’re not. I’m not sorry you did either. Most girls bore me. You, Taylor, do not bore me.”
“Thank God, I can die a happy woman.”
“I’m not going to make a move on you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
I had been, but I didn’t want him to know that.
“I never screw girls I like.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Wait, he liked me?
“Of course it does. All relationships end eventually, right? So why not end it before it begins and save yourself the trouble?”
“That’s pretty fucked up thinking, Hunter. What did your parents do to you?” In my experience, guys like Hunter usually had deep-rooted Mommy issues. It was why they could never have close relationships with women.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
I got up and put my phone in the charger, mostly so I could stop making eye contact with him. Normally, my nightly routine would involve putting in my retainer, slathering my face with moisturizer and putting on an eye mask, but there was no way in hell I was letting Hunter see any of that.
It was too intimate, too personal. Maybe tomorrow housing would be open to finding him another place. I would simply tell them that I was uncomfortable living with Hunter. I wanted to believe that I would have the balls to tell him to get out. It would have been so much easier if we could have taken care of this hours ago. Also if he hadn’t played that stupid song. Why had I picked that? I should have picked something stupid like “I Am the Walrus.”
He clicked his lamp off, and we were left in almost total darkness. The only light came from the small lamp on my dresser that I hadn’t turned off yet.
“Just to let you know, I talk in my sleep.” He shifted on his bed and chucked something on the floor. It could only be one thing. “Also, I sleep naked.”
I made a sound of disgust. I was definitely sleeping with my bra on, even though I’d have uncomfortable marks in the morning. I climbed into bed and pulled the comforter up. I was the one who felt naked. I swore I could hear his sheets rubbing against his skin. Damn, I should have gotten some earplugs.
I wasn’t going to sleep at all.
I also talked in my sleep, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
“Well, good night. Feel free to dream about me naked and scream all you want. I’ll sleep right through it.”
I wished I had a pillow, or perhaps something heavier, to chuck at him. I quietly grabbed my retainer and put it in, hiding the case under my mattress. I wanted to pretend like I didn’t give a shit what he thought of me, but honestly, I did.
It felt rude not saying good-night, so I did. I got a mumble in response. I lay on my back and looked at the ceiling. Even with the memory foam mattress pad, the dorm bed was as comfortable as a sack of hay.
Hunter was breathing quietly, but his disturbance in the room was unmistakable. I didn’t know why, but guys breathed differently than girls. Deeper somehow. I heard every single time he shifted or moved or twitched at all. I knew the exact moment he was asleep when his breathing became slow and he stopped moving so much. I tried closing my eyes, but it didn’t work.
I grabbed my MP3 player and put it on Shuffle. I had tons of fast songs on there, so I had to keep skipping things. Usually, alcohol made me tired, but the soda had been a bad idea. It was too late to take my sleep medication, so I was stuck. I only had two classes the next day, and they didn’t start until eleven. I hoped Darah and Renee weren’t too loud in the morning. I hoped Hunter wouldn’t be too loud in the morning.
I hit repeat when “C’est la Mort” came on, and I finally faded off.
***
“Taylor, Taylor!”
A hand grabbed my shoulder, shaking it.
“What the fuck?” I said, flailing against it, trying to get it to let me go. “Don’t touch me!” I whipped my arms around and made contact with something warm and fleshy. A chest.
“Jesus Christ, stop it!”
I finally opened my eyes and assessed the situation. I was in bed, and there was a shirtless boy holding my arm. I froze, and he let go of me.
“What are you doing?” I snapped at him, but it came out slurred because of the retainer. I spit it out in my hand.
“You were screaming in your sleep and freaking out. It woke me up.” Shit. Usually when I took my sleep medication, I didn’t have the night terrors, but I hadn’t been able to tonight. Great, just great.
“I’m sorry. Go back to bed. I’m fine.”
“Do you, uh, need anything?”
He stood there, as if he didn’t know what to say. My eyes drifted down his chest and saw that he had a towel wrapped around his waist. At least it covered everything it needed to cover.
“No, I’m fine. Good night.” I flipped over, hoping that would be the end of it. He sighed, and I heard him crawl back into bed.
“Good night,” he said and flipped over as well.
Five
Hunter was gone the next morning when I woke up at nine. So was Renee, but Darah was at the dining table eating a bowl of cereal.
“How was your night with the boy?”
“Fantastic,” I said, stretching my arms over my head and listening to my spine pop. I shuffled to the coffeepot and found that there was just enough for one more cup. I had no idea how long it had been sitting there, but I didn’t care. Coffee only got really nasty if it was past four hours. I poured myself a cup and sat down with Darah. She looked about as bad as I felt.
“You’re okay with him here, really?” she said.
“No, I’m really not.” I sipped the sweet elixir, wrapping my hand around my cup. “But what can I do?” I still hadn’t told them about the bet, and Hunter hadn’t either. I wasn’t sure if I was going to go there. If housing could settle things, then they never had to know. I just hoped if housing found him another place, he would go quietly. I really had no idea what kind of a fight he would put up.
“Not much. Just give housing hell. I don’t know what they were thinking.” She shook her head.
“And they didn’t even notify us! It’s just crazy. This damn school.” I got up and slammed two pieces of bread into the toaster. There was something else that was bothering me, but I wasn’t going to tell Darah about it. Unless…maybe she had heard me last night. I glanced over my shoulder to find her watching me. Yup, she’d heard. “You probably heard me last night, didn’t you?”
“The walls are like paper, so yeah. I didn’t want to bring it up unless you were uncomfortable. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really. I forgot to take my meds. Sorry if I kept you up.”
“It’s no big deal—we were just worried about you. It’s been a while since you had one.”
“Renee woke up, too?”
Darah nodded. Great, just great.
“I’m really sorry.” It had only been twenty-four hours and I was already a bad roommate.
“Don’t worry about it. Did Hunter wake up?”
“Yeah, he actually woke me up. He sleeps naked, by the way.”
She snorted milk through her nose and had a coughing fit before she could answer.
“You’re kidding me,” she said, her eyes the size of dinner plates.
“I didn’t see Hunter Junior, if that’s what you’re thinking. He didn’t take his shorts off until he was under the covers. What a gentleman, right?”
“Listen, if he makes you uncomfortable, we can switch rooms. Although, we might have to pull Renee off him in the middle of the night.”
“He’d probably screw her. He seems like that kind of guy.” My toast popped up, and I spread some butter and drizzled some honey on it.
“Hey, I’ve gotta go to macro, but I’ll see you later, okay? Let me know if you hear from housing.”
“Will do,” I said, saluting her and munching on my toast.
She grabbed her bag, and, for the first time since moving in, I had the place to myself. I should spend that time on skimming the first chapter in my textbook, but I wasn’t that ambitious. Instead I plunked down on the sofa with a crappy reality show marathon and dazed out. I was just about to start getting ready when the door opened.
“Hey,” Hunter said, setting his messenger bag by the door. “You recovered from last night?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Sure you are.”
I was not going to put up with him today, so I went to get dressed and brush my teeth. He grabbed the remote and changed the channel. Of course.
“Don’t you have class?” I asked.
“I don’t have another until two-fifteen. You?” He didn’t take his eyes from the television.
“I have Feminism in Cinema at eleven-fifteen.”
“Sounds thrilling,” he said, finally settling on the History Channel. Looked like a marathon about Hitler.
“See you later,” I said and went to get ready. He didn’t even say goodbye when I walked out the door a few minutes later. I’d never met someone who ran so hot and cold. He was worse than Maine weather, which changed with alarming frequency.
My walk down to class was relatively quiet. Our building was on the outer edge of campus, like a spoke on a wheel. UMaine centered on a grassy mall that had the library at one end and the memorial gym at the other. Most of the important buildings were near the mall, and the less important were behind them. The English building where I had my class was one of the less important and happened to be just down the hill from my dorm.
The class was relatively small, so it was easy to find Megan’s flaming red hair. Women’s Studies was a small department, so everyone pretty much knew everyone else and took the same classes.
“Hey,” I said, sliding in the seat next to her and pulling the retractable desk up with a horrible grinding noise.
“We meet again,” she said. “How was move-in?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” We had a few minutes before class started, so I gave her the quick and very dirty version of the previous day.
“You are kidding,” she said, sitting back.
“I wish I were.”
“I didn’t think housing could do that.”
“I know, right? No notice, nothing.”
We were interrupted by the arrival of our teacher, Jennie, who I’d had a previous class with. She was young, only about twenty-eight, and was so obsessed with movies, she made even the most boring topic interesting. She also wouldn’t let us call her by her last name.
Class started with the usual handing out of syllabi and going over rules and policies. I tuned out most of it and let my mind wander. Of course it wandered to my most recent irritation. Hunter Zaccadelli.
There was something seriously wrong with Hunter. One minute he was talking about going to bed with me, the next he said he didn’t want to have sex with me because he liked me and then he was colder than a Maine winter. Maybe that was something I could bring up with housing. I’d had to turn my phone off during class, but couldn’t wait to check it and see if I had a message. I also planned on stopping there after lunch, before my last class.
We finished early, and Megan and I decided to get lunch at the Union. She went for a cheeseburger from the grill, and I got a tomato wrap filled with hummus and veggies. Somehow we found two empty seats and set everything down.
“So you need to give me some more details on this guy.”
“I don’t really know much, actually. Except he’s a douche and he’s sleeping in my room.”
She covered her burger with ketchup and smashed the bun. “Is he cute?”
I had to think about my answer. There was no denying that Hunter was gorgeous. He had everything the typical female would want. Good body, perfect teeth, great hair and everything (that I could see) in proportion. Given a personality transplant, I would have been seriously crushing on him. He also had this fabulous jawline. Not that I’d noticed.
“Oh, he’s a hottie all right, but it’s his personality that could use some help.”
“Still, better a good-looking jerk than an ugly nice guy.”
“What category is Jake in?”
“He’s a little bit of both,” she said, munching a fry. “I like to think he combines the right amount of hotness and niceness.”
Megan’s boyfriend was a nice guy. It was just his friends that needed some work. They weren’t jerks; they were just gross. Megan often walked into her bathroom to find one of them had forgotten to flush, another had left hair and floss on the sink and another had left hair in the shower drain. She only stayed for love, she said. I would have been out of there faster than you could say Clorox.
“Well, Hunter is all asshat.”
