Page 6 of Cheater and the Saint
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Saint
When I was born, my mom kind of had a moment. One I was certain she looked back on and wondered, “What was I thinking?”
You see, she wasn’t a religious person. Not like her parents were, anyway. She got pregnant with me at sixteen and had me days before her seventeenth birthday. My dad hadn’t stuck around once he found out she was knocked-up, so all she had were her parents to help her through it.
On the day I came screaming into this world, a blizzard arrived. Mom had barely made it to the hospital before the worse of it hit. I was born in a Catholic hospital, one where bibles were placed in all the rooms and pictures of Jesus hung on the walls. You get the idea.
But anyway, there were a lot of complications. Some were due to the fierce storm banging against the building and causing the electricity to flicker on and off—yay for generators, right? Turned out Mom couldn’t have me natural, and an emergency C-section had to happen.
After it all, one of the nurses said it was a miracle from God that everything turned out as great as it had.
And perhaps it was due to the trauma of childbirth combined with the pain meds, blizzard, and overall relief of it being over, but Mom wanted to name me something unique and, well, to show her appreciation for said miracle.
Saint Winter King.
The sad thing was? I’m not even joking. That was my legal name. I guess it was better than having a name that five other boys in my class had. Like Tyler or John.
Leo was kind of an uncommon name. As I sat at my desk, I thought of my new roommate. He seemed nice enough, but he gave me a party boyvibe, and if that was the case, we wouldn’t be getting along that well.
I preferred cleanliness and a quiet house.
Feeling a slight headache coming on, I saved my document on my essay aboutnature vs nurturein relation to criminal behavior and took off my reading glasses. My psychology professor had emailed the class our syllabus for the semester, and I’d seen that the essay was one of our first assignments. Of course, I hadn’t needed to start on it already, since it wasn’t due until middle of September, but I hated procrastination. I could always alter it after the lecture if need be.
It was almost ten at night, and the dorm was quiet. I left the room to search the kitchen for something to snack on, noticing the lights were off and no one else was there. When I’d first gotten there the weekend before, I’d gone grocery shopping, but I needed to go again. I walked over to the pad hanging on the refrigerator and wrote down some of the items I needed.
I wasn’t OCD, but I had to have some things a certain way. Organized. I loved making lists. Grocery lists, pros and cons of anything I struggled with, to-do lists. Anything, really.
After making a fold-over peanut butter sandwich, I went into the living room and turned on the TV. I usually didn’t watch a lot of TV, but there were a few shows I enjoyed, likeGood DoctorandCriminal Minds. After a few episodes ofCriminal Minds, I spread out on the couch and shut my eyes.
Hours later, I awoke to a thump against the door, followed by a man murmuring and a woman giggling. The lock clicked and the door opened, and I lifted my head to see Leo making out with some brunette girl. They stumbled into the dorm, leaving the door wide open. Leo eventually kicked it closed with his foot, but then he pushed the girl against the wall, devouring her mouth and causing her to sigh and moan.
Yep. He was definitely going to be a pain in my ass.
I ducked down on the couch as they passed, not wanting to deal with a confrontation. As they moved down the hall, they bumped against the wall and laughed. Freaking drunken assholes. The last thing I wanted was to hear them screwing each other all night, but I didn’t really have a choice.
Why couldn’t I have been put with a roommate who actually shared my interests? It was like the school got a kick out of pairing people together who’d be miserable.
A door closed, and thankfully, their incessant giggling and moans were mostly muffled. I went to my room and turned on some classical music before lying down.
I’d never be that type of guy, someone who brought random strangers home and had one-night stands. It’d just never appealed to me. What sucked was it was difficult for me to meet people. Iwanteda connection with someone, but it was easier said than done.
I was awkward and kind of weird, and I seemed to be in my head a lot. And when I tried to flirt? Good god. I was mortified even remembering my failed attempts.
As Mozart drifted to my ears, I settled into bed and went to sleep.
***
Monday morning, I woke up refreshed and ready to start the day. The weekend had been a special kind of hell with Leo. Turned out he wasverymessy and loud, plus he’d invited his friends over quite a bit. Oh, and a different sex partner came over each of the four nights he’d been there, one time it was a girl and the others were guys.
Maybe now that classes were finally starting, he’d settle down. Unlikely, though.
After I was showered and dressed, I left my bedroom and went into the kitchen. Leo was sitting at the table, looking as if he’d just woken up. His dark hair was untidy, he was shirtless and wearing only boxers, and his eyes kept closing.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” I said in mock fashion as I went toward the coffee machine.
The jerk hadn’t left any in the pot, so I had to make more.
