Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
“Nah, man. It’s late. Text in the morning and we’ll grab breakfast, though?”
“Sure. Good luck with your roommate.”
I get off on the fourth floor and tread down the hall to room 420. Hopefully this Cameron dude is chill. And not a complete fucking weirdo.
I scan my keycard and open the door. Sitting in the middle of the single king-sized bed is a small dude. He’s wearing a school hoodie that’s probably four sizes too big. The hood is pulled up, concealing his face, and his laptop is open in front of him. He types frantically. It’s actually impressive how quickly his fingers move across the keyboard.
I let the door fall closed, expecting it to startle him, but he just keeps typing. It isn’t until I’m standing at the end of the bed that he finally realizes he’s not alone anymore.
His shriek is…high-pitched and feminine. He slams his laptop shut and yanks his hood down. Earbuds fall onto the laptop, which has a sticker that reads MY FAVORITE SPORT IS READING. I already feel judged. And that feeling magnifies as wide, gray eyes meet mine.
Wide, gray eyes, framed with thick dark feminine lashes.
Her long dark hair is pulled back in a braid that hangs over her shoulder. And her legs are bare. She’s wearing a pair of socks pulled up to her knees, though. “Uh, I think maybe there’s been a mistake. I’m supposed to be rooming with some guy named Cameron.”
She blinks at me. And says nothing.
“Are you Cameron’s girlfriend?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
I wait for her to offer more information, but nothing.
“Are you Cameron?”
She narrows her eyes, like I’m stupid for even asking.
This is getting awkward.
Her tongue darts out and drags across her full bottom lip.
I wait for her to say something. Anything. But all I get is more silence.
While we have this weird standoff, I take in the angles of her face. She has high cheekbones and a delicate nose. Her lips are full and pouty, and her chin is dainty. Her frame swims in the giant hoodie. I’m positive she’s the same girl I spotted in class and getting on the elevator in my building last week.
I’m not sure how long I stand there, but eventually I thumb over my shoulder. “I’m just gonna…”
I back up toward the door and rush out of the room. Obviously, there’s been some kind of mistake. I wait forever for the elevator to take me back to the lobby. Should have taken the stairs.
Some girl is freaking out. Like legit snot-sobbing all over the place. “You don’t understand! If I don’t have my creams, my face will be a mess by morning! I can’t not have them. And it’s not over the counter. It’s a prescription and my whole life will be ruined without it!”
I approach Colby, but he holds up a hand. “Whatever your issue is, it’ll have to wait until morning. I’m already dealing with enough.”
A group of girls in the corner eye me. I’m not in the mood to be accosted, especially since I still don’t have a fucking shirt. I avoid the elevator and run up six flights of stairs to Brody and Gage’s room. I’m unsurprised to find them sprawled out on their beds watching hockey, surrounded by vending machine snacks.
“I have a problem.”
“Is Cameron a serial killer?” Gage asks.
“No. Cameron’s a girl.”
“Have you hooked up with her before?” Brody’s eyes are suddenly alight with excitement.
Of course he would be all kinds of gleeful about me ending up rooming with a past hookup. I’m not a total playboy, but I like sex, and girls like me, so I’ve enjoyed the perks of being on the hockey team and no parental guidance over the past couple of months. But lately, it’s become…boring.
“No, dude. They obviously made a mistake, but Colby is dealing with drama so I couldn’t explain the situation.”
“Is she hot?” Brody asks.
“I mean, not in, like, a typical way.”
“Does that mean she is or isn’t hot?” Gage presses.
Gage has a very specific type. Either, off-limits like his math tutor. Or, since he can’t have her, anyone who seems interested in him and a party, preferably at the same time.
“She’s not your type.” She has the kind of face you want to keep looking at because it’s not like anyone else’s. “Can I crash here?” They have two beds and no couch, but a single shitty computer chair and an old desk.
Gage looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Bro, we’re all over six-two and these are double beds. No, you can’t crash here, unless you want to sleep on the floor.”
“Seriously? Hotel floors are gross.”
“I’ll sleep with Cameron.” Brody brushes crumbs off his shirt as he sits up.
“No. That’s not…” I shake my head. “No.”
“So she is hot.”
“Yeah, but she’s weird. I showed up and tried to talk to her, and she just screamed then stared at me like I had two heads.”