High Life | ✔️

12

I WOKE WITH a start.

Elias's room smelled different from mine. It was slightly smaller, muskier smelling and altogether noisier. There was a ruckus beyond his door. The illuminated screen of my cellphone said it was 7am. I was confined by a warm arm.

Elias had this unique scent, one that reminded me of my own father's aftershave. I missed my dad.

We were both fully clothed - I couldn't remember the last time I slept fully clothed. I slipped out of his arms, crawled to the edge of his bed to retrieve his black hoodie, before jumping to the ground. The thud foot meeting hardwood made Elias stir.

"Want me to go with you?" Elias asked, half asleep.

"I'm good. Do I use your hoodie?"

"Yeah, sure," Elias groaned into his pillow. I found it strangely endearing.

I took one last backward glance at Elias, who had returned to sleep in shirt and jeans from yesterday. He'd be Adonis if such a wild ideology were to be solidified. The hallway was relatively empty when I pulled his door open.

I was a short person. At 5'4", Elias's hoodie covered my entire dress. Through the screen of a CCTV, I could pass as a short male in short shorts. But through the eyes of a human male with reasonable intelligence, I definitely resembled female.

I halted in my tracks as I neared the elevator. There was someone waiting, he had his back to me, so he had yet to notice me. I inhaled a humungous breath.

I debated if I should take the stairs. It was eight floors, I'd definitely run into more people if I took the stairs. So I gathered what little courage I had and entered the elevator when it arrived.

I kept my gaze downcast. I could only see the other person's feet. But I knew, without a doubt that he would be staring at me.

"So... Who'd you bang?" The stranger finally asked.

I chewed on my lower lip, not daring to look up. "I forgot his name."

"I admire how you're not even trying to dress as a male."

I decided, at that period of time, to grace the stranger with a deadpanned expression. But lo and behold, it wasn't a stranger.

"You," I gaped. "Hello, Jaxon Ortega."

His expression remained blank. "I thought you sounded familiar."

"Are you going to tell on me?"

He shook his head, slowly. "I'm no snitch."

When the elevator door dinged open, we were on the ground floor. And the lobby wasn't empty. Jaxon, with way faster reflexes than me, pushed my head down with more force than required. With the same hand pressing my head down, he led me out of the boys' dorm.

I heard whistles from the occupants of the lobby.

"Main man Jaxon ain't dry anymore," someone called out.

"Who's the chick, man?"

Jaxon didn't even bother to reply these people, at least not verbally.

"Love it when he gives the middle finger," one of them laughed.

We didn't stop walking until we reached Block Augustine, which was one of the main school blocks. Jaxon's facial expression was unreadable for most part, but I could recognize a tinge of irritation.

"Tell whoever you banged that he's an irresponsible ass for trying to smuggle you in, in a dress."

I crossed my arm, preparing to refute with an indignant response. But I was cut off.