Page 4 of Down My Chimney

“What does itlooklike I’m doing?” I said scathingly. There was no lie I could come up with that would be believable, so I just bulldozed on. “I don’t barge in on you without knocking, you know.”

“Yeah, but I don’t get completely naked to jerk off,” Matty said. “You know the cam girls on those chat sites can’t see you, right? You know she doesn’t actually meanyouwhen she says she wants your dick inside her?”

“Fuck off,” I snapped, reaching for my boxers. “I’m aware of how computers work. And that’s not what I was doing.”

“Making a little video of your own then, were you?” he asked, grinning. “Finally capitalizing on all those Instagram fans? Giving up on soccer and goingproin a different direction?”

“Fuckoff,” I repeated, pulling my boxers on and pushing off the bed. If I couldn’t make him leave, I’d just have to ignore him. Anything to end this conversation.

“What, man? No judgement from me. I would have done that months ago, if I had the follower count that you do.”

I grabbed my jeans from the floor and tugged them on. “I wasn’t making porn, asshole.”

“Wait a second.” Matty’s amusement gave way to suspicion. “Were you having phone sex? Oh my God, IthoughtI saw call buttons on your screen, but you turned it off so fast I wasn’t sure. Who is she?”

Fuck. I should have just told him I’d been watching cam girls like he originally thought. At least that was further away from the truth. But I’d been too flustered to think straight. I still was.

“It’s none of your business what I was doing.” I pulled my T-shirt on irritably and slid into my flip-flops. It had been brisk the past few days, but even in February, San Diego never gotthatcold. “Can we just drop it and go to dinner?”

* * *

Dinner, we managed, but dropping it was a different story.

Half an hour later, I was eating my second helping of lemon-pepper chicken breast with rosemary roasted potatoes at the dining hall, and my roommates still wouldn’t let it go.

“I knew something was up with you,” Dev said, reaching out to spear one of my potatoes with his fork. “You’ve been all secretive since you got back from break. There had to be a reason.”

“I’m not being secretive.” I glared at him. “And get your own potatoes. There’s literally a giant pan of them, right there.” I pointed at the far wall where the buffet line ran.

“I don’t want my own potatoes,” he said, stealing another. “I’m cutting back on carbs.”

“You’re fucking lying is what you’re doing.”

“Pretty rich for you to say, considering you have a secret girlfriend you haven’t told us about,” Taylor said, biting into an apple. He leaned back in his chair and studied me. “Is this why you wanted to switch rooms with me? So you could have your phone sex in secret?”

That was, in fact, exactly the reason. After winter break, I’d begged him to move into our apartment’s largest bedroom, which Matty and I had shared as a double. There was way more space in that room, even if he did have to share it with someone else.

Taylor’s old room, now mine, was a monk’s cell in comparison. Barely big enough for a twin bed and a desk. But it was wonderfully, deliciouslyprivate. And with Henry coming to visit, that was very important.

Of course, Henry would still have to sleep on the couch during his stay. There was no conceivablystraightreason for him to share my bed. But once everyone else in the apartment was asleep, he’d be able to sneak into my room for a few hours. For once, I was grateful our walls were made of ugly cinderblock. They did a surprisingly good job of blocking sound.

“Forgetwhy,” Matty said, pulling my attention back to the conversation, which was, unfortunately, still going. “I want to knowwho. Is she in one of your classes?”

“If he met her in one of his classes, how would he have known he wanted to trade rooms before the semester even started?” Taylor pointed out.

“Maybe he met her last semester, then stalked her schedule and switched his around so it matched hers. He is taking all those lit classes all of a sudden.”

I was taking all those lit classes because my parents had told me it was time to buckle down and actually pick a major, and English had seemed like a safe choice at the time. No memorizing complicated chemical formulas, no Scantron tests.

“Blake’s not that smart,” Taylor said with a laugh. “He doesn’t plan ahead like that.”

“Blake’s sitting right here,” I grumbled around a mouthful of chicken.

“Yeah, but you’re clearly not gonna tell us anything,” Dev said. “So what do you expect us to do?”

“I don’t know, maybe have some boundaries?”

“Boundaries?Boundaries?” Matty cocked his head to the side. “I don’t think I know that word.”

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