This chapter is once edited.
(it'll probably be edited a few more times.)
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It is Thursday, which meant I don’t have classes. I have been up since 7, trying to connect my phone to iTunes and rebooting it because I did not have time for it the last days. Dylan and I haven’t been talking lately, which is good because he probably knows that if he tries to start a conversation, I’ll probably start cursing or something like that. He knew I’m mad, duh.
“Fucking stupid phone.” I mutter while waiting for the process on my iTunes to be finished.
After I am able to turn on my phone again, I’d have to put it all the contacts and begin downloading apps, and setting up my iClouds and shit. Believe me, you’d be pissed off. It’d probably take like 8 hours.
Luckily, I remember my home, Mom, Dad and Ashton’s phone numbers so I first plug that in. Then I call Ashton – I know he’s not in class right now – to ask for our relatives’ numbers. I’m pretty close to my cousins, if you ask.
“Well isn’t it my favorite sister, Kaylie.” Ashton teases me as soon as he picks up the phone.
“Not in the mood, Ash.” I reply, rolling my eyes.
He chuckles. “Looks like Miss Taylor is not in the mood today. So, who pissed you off?” he asks.
“Dylan.” I say, “He disabled my phone and now I lost all my contacts.”
"Oh, that jerk again," Ashton said in amused relization and I chuckled. “And you are calling me because…?”
I roll my eyes again, “Send me all the numbers of our relatives. You know, Tyler, Wilbur and Annie?” They are my cousins.
“Okay, I’ll text you.” He says, “Do you need your friends’ numbers too?”
I lift my eyebrow, “Why do have my friends’ numbers? And who are my friends to be exact?”
“Janelle, Bill, Tom, Mina,… and others.”
“Why do you have their numbers?” I exclaim.
I can feel him rolling his eyes. “Because I went out with Janelle, dummy. Remember?”
Oh yeah, that. It was a funny event. Janelle Robertson is my high school best best bestest friend. We divided when we go to college because she went to a vet school in California and I went here, Berklee.
“Okay send them too.”
“Okay. Bye, love you.” He says.
“Love you.” Then I turn off the phone.
. . .
Dylan comes back at 11.
He walks in and I don’t bother looking up to see who it is – because duh, who else would have the key to my dorm room?
And he starts talking to me.
“Fixing your phone?” he chuckles as he climbs into his bed.
I ignore him.
“Kaylie.” He calls again.
I still do not answer him. Bastard… He disabled my phone and now he’s talking and laughing to me? Humph!
“Kaylie Mills Taylorrr.” He sings my name in a high-pitched voice. “Kaylie!”
“What!?” I turn to him with an irritated face.
“Aw come on,” he smiles sheepishly, “Still upset? I only wanted to revenge.”
I roll my eyes and turn back to my Mac.
“That’s not fair!” he pouts like a kid, “You can pour water on me but get mad when I disable your phone? It’s your fault you put that setting on.”
“Yeah well I didn’t get your pants disabled when I poured water.” I say then walk out of the room to go to lunch.
. . .
“How’s your phone?” Catherine asks me, chewing her salads. Is this girl going on a super diet or something? She’s skinny enough…
“It’s on, but I still need to get all of the contacts. And THEN I’d have to get the apps, and music, and all the shit.” I sigh, using my fork to play with my meatballs in my spaghetti.
My phone lets out a “Ding”. I pick it up.
“It’s Ashton, he’s sending me some of the contacts.” I inform Catherine as she nods.
My phone “Ding” again.
“What was that?” says the Catherine with her mouth full of vegetables.
“A message from Dylan.” I read off of the sender’s name without thinking.
Catherine’s eyebrow frowns.
“Wait what?” I yell quietly, because we are in the cafeteria. “Kaylie come back to the dorm, we need to talk.” I read the message.
Catherine stares at me, “Why do you even have his number?”
“I have no clue,” I shrug, looking at the phone’s screen, “Wait… maybe I do have a clue…”
Earlier when I left Dylan in the room and went out to go to lunch, I realized that I did not bring my money for the food. So I rolled my eyes and turned around back to 206. Since the key is in my purse where my money is too, I couldn’t unlock the door.
I face-palmed myself, “Great job, Kaylie Mills Taylor.” I told myself. Then I banged on the door.
Opening the door was a smiling Dylan. I glanced at him and walked into the bed to get my purse and key. But when I was going to go, I felt like I need to use the restroom. So I left my stuff on my bed – including my phone – on the bed.
“He must have plugged in his number while I was in the toilet.” I conclude.
Catherine slaps her face. “You, my friend, are messed up.”
. . .
I insert my key and open the door. Dylan is inside on his bed, watching something on Netflix. I walk straight to my bed and drop my stuff there. Then I start unzipping my jacket and tying my hair.
“Did you get my message?” Dylan asks smirking without moving his eyes away from his laptop.
“What message?” I answer while finishing putting my hair into a bun. Then I walk to the table and grab a bottle of water.
Dylan pauses his movie, “Aw come on, you know what message.” He rolls his eyes, “I plugged my number in your phone, in case you haven’t figured it out.”
“Yeah, I’m way ahead of you.” I drink from the bottle
“So I’ve been thinking,” he states. I snort.
“Oh?”
Dylan ignores my attitude. “We’ve been in the same dorm for almost 7 months now.”
“And your point is…?” I cock my head.
“And it doesn’t help if you’re hating on me,” he grins and I roll my eyes.
“I don’t think that’s a problem,” I point out.
He sighed. “We were fine at first but I have no idea why you have been acting so cruelly lately.”
“Cruelly?” I frown. “Dude you almost killed my phone.” I say in exasperation.
“Because you almost froze me!” Dylan exasperated, too.
Okay, Dylan is half right. We were not fighting and killing each other at first. We were just basically ignoring and what we call “too normal” when we first live together in the dorm room. We didn’t mock and strangle each other, though. But ever since he brought his girlfriend to our room, I have been acting differently. I don’t know why, I guess it’s because I don’t like the thought of having a cheerleader with her butt showing in my room, who happened to be my roommate’s girlfriend. I mentally roll my eyes. Hell. It sure was not because I was jealous of her. No.
But Dylan should be hating me too. At least that’s what I guessed. He did hate me a lot 3 years ago.
“Look,” He rubs his temples, “We’re both in the same room, and this is going to happen for as long as we study in Berklee, so why don’t we just pretend there’s nothing between us, just for the sake of roommates.” He smiles innocently.
Huh, pretend?
“You mean I can still hate you inwardly and stuff right?” I raise my eyebrows. What? I’m not going to easily agree. Like, boom, okay now we’re friends? Hell nah.
He sighs sarcastically, “Yes yes, Kaylie Taylor.”
I shrug. “Okay. We’ll be living together until graduation anyways.” Then I look at him, “I still won’t appreciate it if you do anything inappropriate though,” I point at him.
He laughs lightly, “Yeah, okay boss, okay boss.”
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