Page 7 of Bossy Grump's Secret

"Don't worry, Lil," I groan as I straighten my cracking spine. "This is the tough part," I assure her. I call her “Lil” because aside from being an abbreviation, it also represents little, which she is, making it the perfect nickname. It takes some time before she eventually gives up pestering me not to call her that. Short people never admit to being short..until it suits them. Humans.

"We have twelve rooms on this floor!" she moans.

"Well, the sooner we finish all of them, the sooner we rest. Grump-ball said so himself. Besides, I doubt all the rooms are vacant."

"Who's grump..." She tilts her head in confusion before realizing who I am talking about. "Oh. You have a very provoking nicknaming scheme," she mutters wryly.

"I know, right? I love the look of irritation on people's faces. Now let's do the top sheets," I plead with her. She hesitantly gets up from the soft cushion carpet and grabs the end of the fabric I throw at her.

We walk several steps to each corner and do the super-sized corners that should lock the top sheets properly. The fitting sheet was the most challenging part, and the rest was relatively lighter work.

Once done, Lily wheels the trolley to the toilet to begin work there.

"Hey, Ava, I think we forgot bleach," Lily yelled from the bathroom minutes later. The supply room is in the staff quarters at ground floor, and we're on the ninth floor.

I took a look at the cleaning trolley to confirm what she said. She's about to leave, but I stop her.

"You stay here. I'll go. I can't have you running marathons in this place," I teased, and step out of the room.

Except for a few floors I haven't checked out yet, all the living spaces are the same on every floor. So, they're pretty easy to figure out.... I go straight through the hallway to the elevator.

Once down, I try my best to avoid Dylan, but he is everywhere I don't want him to be.

"Ava? Ninth floor, you; Ground floor, here, why?" he asks in one-worded sentences that are easy to understand, but I feel it’s proof that he doesn't take me seriously.

"I forgot bleach," I confess simply and continue.

"Uh. Two minutes to get down there and be back on that elevator," he threatens, and I dismiss him with a quick close to the stairway door.

Staff quarters are off limits to guests, elevators won't take you there. When I open the door, I make a beeline to the supplies room, grab the bleach. It's just chilling on a ledge where Lily probably left it when she got our trolley ready.

We can use an alternative route to access the stairs. I realize my mistake when I take three turns, and more turns lead to more halls.. but no staircase door anywhere in sight. In fact, I don't think I'm in the same section of the building.

"No, no no! I'm lost, come on!" I huff and sag my shoulders. Dylan's being a pain and gave me a time limit. I'm screwed.

I'm trying to trace my steps back to the front, but I keep finding new places.

"Why in the world is this place so dang huge?" I moan at no one in particular. No one was in the hall, anyway. I spot a wooden door waaaay down the hallway and I'm thinking that's the way out.

Out of this section, at least, I reason and head for it. Behind the wooden door reveals a beautiful room that almost tricks me into thinking I'm back on the upper floors.

"I'm super lost!" But something about this room makes me not want to come out immediately. It has a smell I can't quite place but is oddly familiar. I glance around the place and eventually conclude it belongs to a man. The colour is neutral, and the wall has little to no decorations.

For the few months Lily and I have been staying in our shared room, there is always a poster and assorted pictures of our favorite celebrities. Besides, a PlayStation on a computer set-up just screams, Testosterone!

“Nope!” I say out loud, shake my head, and turn around. What am I even doing here in the first place? The last thing I want is to see someone coming out of the bathroom, clothed as the day he was born, engaging himself in some weird fetish.

I rush out the door to get away and BAM! I bump right into someone in front of me.

"What are you doing here?!"

When I jump and let out a high-pitched scream, I'm surprised I don't hit the ceiling and freak everyone out.

"Dylan, what is wrong with you!? Why in the name of Abraham Lincoln are you everywhere!?" I yell when I see that he's the one.

"Why am I in my room? Am I the one supposed to be asking that question?" He folds his hands across his chest.

"This is your room?!" I ask in exasperation. Still feeling jittery from my heart racing.

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