Page 25 of Unrecognizable Player

I login to Bookgeeks and look at the last message I sent to horror boy.

I type out a new one.

Kelsier38: How you holding up? I’m currently hiding out in my room because I don’t wanna talk to my roommate.

There’s no reply. He mustn’t be online. I pick a book up and wait for Stef to go to bed.

7

STEFANOS

OMG you have an annoying roommate too? Mine is so rude. I try and be nice to him, but he just… idk, it’s like I can’t do anything right. Maybe I just need to give him some space? Anyway, I’m good. I got my stuff from my ex’s and now I’m trying to make a fresh start.

Did you read any good books lately?

Ithink Alexei’s left early again when I wake up and find the kitchen and living room empty, so I don’t even try to be quiet. But when he comes out of his room, rubbing his eyes like a bear with a sore head, I almost jump out of my skin.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were still here.”

I ready myself for the onslaught, but he just grunts and gestures towards the coffee machine.

“Oh yeah, I made coffee.”

He actually lets me pour him one. I hand it to him, and he takes a sip without saying anything. It’s not until he sits down and takes his second sip that he becomes verbal.

“Thanks, not a morning person, sorry.”

Not a morning person? Not a mid-day or afternoon or evening or night person either. Well, at least he said sorry. That’s a start.

“It’s okay.”

I leave a space between us before sitting down. Everything I do seems to annoy him, and the closer I am to him, the more annoying I am if the look on his face is anything to go by. I’m starting to think I smell bad or something.

The silence drags on for so long I have to fill it, even if it does annoy him.

“So what are your plans for the day?”

“Practice, class, library, you?”

“Same… I mean, not hockey practice, but, you know.”

He puts his coffee down and I expect him to get up and walk away or go and make a smoothie or whatever it is hockey players do in the morning, but he stays sitting there.

“Where’s your parents’ restaurant at?”

It takes me a beat to answer. “It’s in Queens.”

“Let me guess, Astoria right?”

“Yeah, how did you-”

“All the best Greek joints are in Astoria, everyone knows that.”

I narrow my eyes. “Are you from Queens?”

“Brooklyn.”

“Ooh, we’re getting allWest Side Storyup in here.”

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