Dorm Room 210 [Rewrite]

Chapter 6

That night I make sure my laptop is charged, my pencil case is full, and a fresh notebook with the cover of Tuesday written in gold and pink is ready for tomorrow's class. The sewing machine and mannequin from Aunt Jennifer's car is near the drawers, keeping the dorm open-spaced and maintained, and the fluffy pillows sit upright on the built-in bench.

I grin to myself, the excitement drilling deep into my bones, keeping me awake longer than I should be. Class doesn't start until the early afternoon, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try to focus on my sleeping pattern — I need to relax!

I prepare for a warm and soothing shower, washing away the day and the past week, mindfully appreciating the learning ahead. The water soaks my body and hair, and the shampoo and body wash — a mix of pomegranates and citrus — loosens the tense muscles under my skin until my lungs can inhale and exhale without difficulty. I stay clear from recalling today; the negativity will only soak it all back, and the last thing I need is to remain awake, thinking about what Jesse said.

A door closes, sending a cold heat through my chest. I turn the shower off and wrap myself in a towel as the kitchen floorboards creak with the kettle switch on. Curious, I step outside, holding a firm grip of my towel, and find Noah by the kitchen sink, making himself hot chocolate.

"Oh," I breathe out. "It's just you."

"Yeah, sorry," he says, facing me for a second. "I should've mentioned...uh... did you want to get dressed first?"

My eyes shut as a flush warms my face. "Right. Yep. About to do that. Don't look."

Noah keeps his back facing me as I hurry to grab my clothes from the drawers.

"I did say I was coming back after giving you a few days to readjust," he says.

"I know."

The towel slips from my grip and I'm thankful he hasn't turned around as the sound of water pouring into a mug ignites the silence between us.

I throw my clothes on in the bathroom, my heart racing, thinking about an alternative reality where I didn't walk out in front of him almost naked. I calm down as I blow dry my hair and brush my teeth, but my hands shake with each brush. Focusing on the mist disappearing around the corners of the mirror, my heart rate is almost back down to normal, until Noah knocks on the bathroom door.

"Is it safe to come in?"

I spit in the sink. "Sure."

In the reflection is Noah running his fingers through his hair and leaving the door wide open. The warmth building up from the shower disappears quickly, the tiles at my feet are noticeably colder than before but soothing. I rinse my mouth and leave the bathroom while he gets ready to brush his teeth, yawning.

My phone charges in the kitchen, but I wish it held enough battery power to take it with me to bed, watch some videos and make comments, distract my mind enough to forget the realisation of my situation. I really am living with a guy. Those few days to myself were bliss, and now they're just part of a distant memory. With the routine of the night disrupted, I opt for a magazine I keep underneath my sketchbook before climbing up the stairs to the top bunk bed. Summer night has a way of making the air dense with heat, but tonight is the perfect temperature for the sheets to be at waist length.

The running water turns off. Noah heads towards his bed below, as if he has been doing since the beginning, and switches his T.V on. Knowing he's there shuts off a part of my brain and activates the over-thinking drive. Do I snore during the night? Am I a roller? Would he hear if I fart? Would he care since he's nowhere near me?

"You settled fine?" he calls from his bed, an ad playing in the background of his T.V.

I turn the page of my magazine, no words registering, nor the photos. "Sort of. It'll be different with you, but I'm sure we'll sort something out."