Page 25 of RoomHates (Life in the Brohouse 1)

I sigh, rubbing my head and throwing my bag into a corner of the room. I really need to stop staying out late on school nights. I could barely pay attention in my English class.It’s the one class I actually looked forward to out of the week and I couldn’t even add anything to the discussion.And practice was brutal. Absolutely brutal.

But Millie…

I lick my lips just thinking about her and that perfect body from the morning. Her huge breasts filling my cupped hands, and her long, limber legs… Millie is definitely one for the books. I take out my phone, finding her name. I am tempted to message her, see if she has a few minutes to spare in the middle of the afternoon. I mean, might as well try since the place is empty. I send her a simple question mark. It’s not like I need to have an actual conversation. Millie isn’t that sort of girl.

I step over the forgotten French toast on the floor while I scroll through my messages. I mean, seriously, I don’t know why Rachel can't just clean up her mess from breakfast.She threw such a hissy fit earlier when none of us enjoyed the lackluster breakfast she prepared. She pretty much burnt Seth’s French toast and my egg whites were runny- barely cooked even. It’s not my fault she sucks at doing push-ups and running.Ha! And she actually thought she was going to beat me in the race!She should have kept her stupid mouth shut if she didn’t want to put in the work.

I walk over to the sink and pour myself a glass of water. It’s fucking great I don’t have to dig through frog water filled glasses in order to find one semi-clean cup.I had to give credit to Rachel there. And she wasn’t too bad on the eyes, either. A little annoying with the crying…I stop thinking; my attention completely drawn by a stream of light coming into the hallway through a crack.

I shove my cell in my pocket and walk towards it, finding Rachel’s door slightly ajar.Leave it, Lucas. You don’t need more problems on your plate.But, it doesn’t seem like she’s home.

I take one tentative step forward. My hand rests on the door.Her door is open, so maybe she is inside.I rap lightly at it.If she is home, I will just rope her into making me a sandwich. It’s not like she’ll say no…Although, thinking back to the disgusting egg white omelet she made for me, maybe it’s better to get her to clean the kitchen.I could challenge her to do pull-ups if need be. If she can't do push-ups there’s no way she can do pull-ups. And having a clean apartment is always nice. I don’t have to be embarrassed anymore when I bring chicks back.

There’s no answer. I knock on the door again, just to make sure.

Maybe she’s taking a nap?

I push the door open when there’s no answer, slowly so as not to get any unwanted attention, and then fully when I don’t see her blonde head sitting or lying on the bed. I stand at the threshold, peering inside at the small and barely furnished room. The chair is barely standing with one missing wheel.That must suck.The crappy desk across from the crappy chair is filled to the brim with a variety of items. Books are piled on one side with make-up on the other.Make-up she doesn’t even use. Not that she needs much of it.A camera sits between both piles.

I step inside, finding several notebooks and photography books strung all over her bed. I raise an eyebrow at the sheets and pillow neatly tidied.She actually makes it? Huh. Didn’t know those sort of people existed.

A striped blouse with syrup stains is spread out on the floor with a few vanilla candles sitting next to it. Like she is planning to have a vigil for it.Talk about a fire hazard if she actually does light them on the floor.

“Ugh, why do you assholes make me drink so much?” I hear Seth say in the hallway before hearing the door slam. “Practice was terrible! I still did better than half those talentless asses, but still- terrible!"

I roll my eyes. “Wrong question to be asking, you dip shit.”

“Lukie, you’re home?” I hear him walking down the hallway. I turn around just when he stops in front of Rachel’s door. He looks around the room, but doesn’t bother to step across the threshold. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

I smirk. “Door was open.”

“No way.” He takes one tentative step inside and waits a moment. I chuckle watching him. It’s like he expects a scythe to come swinging down. He takes another step, followed by another until he’s standing next to me in the middle of the room. “Huh. This is it?”

“Right. I was expecting a bit-“

“More,” Seth finishes. He strides towards the bed and crouches down low, looking under it as if he’s checking for the boogeyman.

I roll my eyes. “What are you doing?”

Seth drags out a suitcase. “I’m looking to see if she has any guns or knives.” He unzips the familiar giant suitcase she originally bashed Hunter with and throws open the lid. Inside there are several oil pastels, papers, nice coloring pencils, and a variety of other supplies any typical art junkie would have. Seth rifles through the items. He picks up the oil pastels and reads the contents before tossing them back in.

I shake my head. “She’s going to know if you keep doing that.” I watch Seth rise. He frowns while looking around the room. “Besides, those aren’t allowed on campus.”

Seth stalks towards the wardrobe, struggling to open it since it’s stuffed full of clothes. “Yeah, but you never know. She is crazy.” He pulls out several garments and throws them over his shoulder. One of them hits me in the face and I pull it away.

“Yeah, she’s crazy,” I say while eyeing a panda hoodie up and down.Why does she have this weird thing?“But she doesn’t come off THAT crazy.” I throw the garment on the bed.

Seth glances over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at me. “You never know. Maybe she has a stake.”

I burst out laughing. “Like a vampire hunter?” I clutch my stomach. My abs pinch in pain as I continue laughing.

“Yeah, maybe she’s that kind of crazy. She did try to slice my neck open with her key.”

My gaze is drawn to the books on the corner of her desk. I pick one up and flip through the pages. I’m soon fascinated and drawn in by the crisp lines and the intricate detail. It’s a city.New York?And the use of color is extraordinary. It looks so realistic, as if I’m looking at a photograph and not a work of art.She may be crazy, by the psycho bitch definitely has talent.

“What the hell are you doing?”

I jump and Seth spins around. I nearly rip the paper with my death grip. I expect to see psycho roommate there, about to throw knives. Instead, it’s Hunter, laughing and pointing while he stands in the doorway. “You should see your faces,” he laughs and clutches his stomach. “Oh my god. That was amazing.”

---