Chapter Four - 4. The Fight
CHAPTER FOUR
The Fight
For once, I slept well, not dreaming about obsidian eyes and a deep, goading voice. In fact, I felt so rested, I was even humming to myself the following morning as I left my bedroom in my boxers, ready to start my day with four slices of Nutella toast.
Taylor was sitting at the coffee table, eating brown sludge. He didn’t look up as I came in. “Morning,” he said.
“Um, morning.” Weird. I popped slices of bread into the toaster, and poured myself a glass of milk as I waited.
Taylor was still looking down at the table. “What did you get up to last night?” His voice was strangely formal.
“Sleeping. What’s it to you?”
He met my gaze then. “Sorry for trying to make small talk.”
I laughed. “Yeah, okay,” I said. “You’ve never made small talk with me in our entire lives. It’s weird.”
“I’m trying to be polite,” he gritted out.
I laughed louder then. “Sure you are.”
“Stop being a dick.”
“Oh, I’m a dick?” I couldn’t stop laughing. This situation was actually absurd. “Let me give you a tip. Give up on the polite act. Better yet, just don’t talk to me, alright?”
“If we’re going to be roommates, we can at least be civil to each other.” His face was doing strange things. He looked both furious and…pleading. He was probably desperate to prove to himself he wasn’t a total asshole. It must’ve been an ego thing.
My toast popped up and I transferred the slices to a plate, then grabbed a butter knife and the jar of Nutella. “Remember what you said to me about how you used my body just to get off? That was real civil.” I marched towards my bedroom, breakfast in hand.
“Archie —”
I let the door slam behind me.
The following days were great. Mostly.
Every night I had an incredible orgasm, and bouncing on the toy made me so tired, I always fell asleep quickly after.
My classes were chill and it was easy to keep up with my assignments.
I grew closer with my classmates and made new friends, and there was always several parties and events to attend.
I also made time for the gym and felt good about my progress.
The only negative in my daily routine was running into Taylor in the mornings.
He was always in the same spot — sitting on the floor by the coffee table, eating his brown sludge.
He’d ditched the fake politeness, and now wore a permanent thunderous expression, like he had a dark cloud hanging over him.
On Wednesday afternoon, I had social soccer training, and ran into Matty on the way to the field. He thwacked me on the back in greeting — despite his size, he was stronger than he looked.
Training was good, the kind that pushed you enough to feel a rush of exercise-induced endorphins, but not too hard that all you felt was sore. I was looking forward to showering, then destroying a massive meal for dinner.
“Amen to that,” Matty said when I told him. He took his phone out of his gym bag and frowned. “Fucking hell.”
“What?”
“My roommate’s just sexiled me.” On his phone screen, a contact named ‘Lachie’ with the middle finger emoji had just texted having someone over don’t come back for 1 hour.
“You could just go anyway?” I suggested.
“My dorm’s not like yours. You get seperate bedrooms. Ours is shared. I do not want to see Lachie doing the business.” He sighed, putting his phone away.
“I’m guessing you don’t get along with him?” I asked.
“He’s a dick.”
“Mine is too.”
Matty gave me a weird look. “Aren’t you roommates with Taylor?”
Oh yeah. I’d forgotten they were friends. Part of me wanted to tell him that Taylor was actually a massive douchebag, but it was never a good look to badmouth someone, even if it was true.
“Well, he’s just…you know…”
“Let me guess, he brings girls over all the time?”
I blinked. Now that I thought about it, Taylor had never brought a guest back, except for that one time Matty and the other guys came over for Never Have I Ever. Maybe he did bring hookups back, but I just never noticed. I wonder who he brought. Girls or guys?
Probably girls. He’d insisted the whole time during our stupid sex competition thing that what we were doing wasn’t gay.
Matty was staring at me, and I realised he was waiting on a response.
“Uh, yeah, he does. Hey, you know what? You can come back to mine, use my shower, and we can order in some takeaway.”
He smiled. “Really? Thanks, man.” He clapped me on the back, and we headed towards Valentina Hall, discussing what food we wanted, and settled on burgers.
I was relieved, once we arrived at the dorm, that Taylor was out. I did not want to pretend to get along with him in front of Matty.
Matty showered first while I placed an order on a food delivery app, ordering two burgers each and a massive side of fries to share. By the time I finished showering, the delivery arrived, and we sat on the floor in my room, devouring the food.
“I can’t tell if this is actually delicious or if I’m just starving,” Matty said, finishing his first burger in three bites.
“Probably both.”
We chatted about uni and parties and predictably, the conversation turned to girls.
“You dating anyone?” Matty asked.
I paused. “Nah.” Actually, girls hadn’t even crossed my mind for what felt like forever, since I’d been using the dildo on a daily basis, and that fulfilled all my needs.
When I first came to Halverton, I told myself I’d get a girlfriend, but I’d completely forgotten about that plan.
“I don’t want to be tied down,” I continued, which was not exactly a lie.
“Nice.”
“What about you?” I asked, to shift the conversation.
Matty talked about his hookups, which I tried to listen to, but mostly I kept thinking about the dildo thing. Oh god. What if I was developing an addiction? What if, in three years, when I graduated, I’d achieved nothing but fuck a sex toy?
“Your room’s kinda weirdly arranged,” Matty said, tearing me from my thoughts.
“Huh?”
He gestured at my furniture. “Your desk blocks the wardrobe, and I don’t think your bed should be right up against the window. It messes with the feng shui.”
“I don’t know anything about feng shui.”
“Okay, I don’t know much about it either, but it keeps coming up on my TikTok feed. Apparently, you should move your bed to that wall.” He pointed with his hands. “And move your desk there.”
I visualised it. “Oh yeah. That does actually make more sense.”
“I can help you.” He stood, wiping his greasy fingers with a napkin.
“Aren’t you tired?” My legs still hurt from training.
“Nup. It won’t take long.”
Well, I couldn’t let myself be outdone by him. I groaned, but got up, and let him boss me around the room, dragging furniture. Sometimes you had to put on a pleasant smile to make friends. That was something Taylor could stand to learn.
The furniture was heavier than both of us expected though — it seemed to be made out of quality wood rather than the cheap Ikea stuff — and we were both red-faced by the time we were done.
The room did look better, though. Everything was spaced out nicely, and with my bed out of the way, I could stand in front of the window and look outside.
Matty checked his phone. “Lachie better be done by now. If not, I’ll barge in, and that should get them to finish.”
“Thanks for helping me out, dude,” I said, walking him to the dorm’s front door.
“Anytime. We should do this again, after soccer.”
“Sure.”
We said our goodbyes. As soon as he left and I closed the front door behind him, Taylor came out of his bedroom.
I jumped. I hadn’t realised he’d come home — the sound of his return must’ve been muffled by what Matty and I were doing.
“What were you doing with him?” he asked.
My brows came together. “What?”
“What were you doing with Matty?”
“Nothing. Why do you care?”
Taylor stood very still, but I could see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed deeply. He walked over until he was right in front of me, close enough I could see each of his bottom lashes. His eyes searched mine. “Your cheeks are red.” His voice was cutting.
I raised my hands to my face, feeling warm skin. If the gym ever closed for whatever reason, moving around furniture was a great substitute for weight training.
“What were you doing with him?” Taylor repeated.
“Nothing. Hanging out. We’re friends,” I added, a little smugly, as if to say, he’s more my friend than yours now.
Taylor’s face was stony. “Did you let him fuck you?”
My jaw dropped. “What the — what the hell kind of question is that?”
Taylor stepped closer. “Did you let him fuck you? Did you bend over and —”
I shoved him away. “No!” Then, after a moment to think, I added, “and even if I did, that’s none of your —”
“I don’t know what you see in him,” Taylor said.
I blinked. “What?”
“He’s shorter than you, for fuck’s sake. If you spread your legs for him —”
“I thought he was your friend,” I snapped, shoving him again.
He barely moved. “You can’t talk about him like that, insulting his height like it even matters.
” I felt outraged on behalf of Matty, and partially vindicated too.
I was right. Taylor was a dick, not just to me, to everyone.
It made me feel slightly better about how he rejected me, all those mornings ago.
It had been a blessing. Being involved with someone like him simply wasn’t a good idea.
He wasn’t a good person. “You’re supposed to be his friend. ”
“He’s not my friend if he’s fucking you,” Taylor said.
“For the last time, we didn’t have sex,” I nearly shouted. “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you. I don’t know why you care. Besides, do you really think I’d let just anyone…” I trailed off.
“You let me,” Taylor said quietly.
I shoved him for the third time, harder. Hard enough to start a fight. He let me.
“You…” I swallowed thickly. “You forced me.”
“I didn’t force you.”
“I was your slave —”
“You didn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to.”
I hung my head, staring at the floor as I clenched and unclenched my fists. I wished I hadn’t had soccer training and then moved all the furniture in my room. I wished I had more energy. If I did, I would’ve punched him in the face. I would’ve started a brawl.
Or maybe not. If I hit him, I could break his nose, and that would mess up his infuriatingly symmetrical face.
“I regret it,” I whispered.
Taylor didn’t reply for so long, I thought he might not have heard me.
“Pardon?”
I could’ve laughed right then. Taylor King, using words like pardon. He was choosing to be polite now?
“I regret it,” I said, more loudly. “I don’t know why I let you touch me.
I don’t know why I let you use me, like I was, what, just some human fleshlight.
” I met his eyes, not caring to decipher the emotions flashing through them.
“Do you know how much it makes me sick, thinking of how I let you violate —”
“Oh, come on,” he interrupted, and barked a laugh, though it sounded slightly manic.
“I know what was in your package. I know what you do every night. I can hear the thudding. I can hear the sounds you make. Do you know how fucking loud you are? I can hear it from my bedroom. You — you enjoyed it. You liked it when I gave it to you. And now you can’t stop.
You do it every night. You’re addicted to playing with your ass and it’s all because of me, and you know what?
” Colour was rising in his cheeks. It was so different from the icy nonchalance I’d seen for the past week.
“I would’ve done it again, if you asked for it.
I would’ve helped you out. I would’ve asked for nothing in return, but instead, you buy some shitty toy and then you invite some guy over so what am I supposed to think —”
Scratch what I said before about not wanting to start a fight. I punched him in the stomach and he buckled over.
Good. Good. I readied myself for a fist to the face, energy sizzling through my body. I was ready to be tackled, to be thrown to the floor. I wanted this to get physical. I wanted to get on top of him, to pin him down and make him hurt —
And just as quickly as I got fired up, I deflated. Taylor was still bent over, clutching his stomach. Slowly, he straightened up, and I resigned myself to landing on my ass. But the blow never came.
Instead, he walked over to the couch and gingerly sat down. It should’ve made me feel better, seeing him look defeated and pathetic. Instead I felt guilty. Damn my conscience. He had it coming. He deserved it.
Cursing myself, I marched over to the fridge, pulled out a pack of frozen peas from the freezer, and handed it to him.
“Don’t need it.”
“It’ll stop the swelling.”
“You didn’t even hit me that hard.”
Ignoring him, I grabbed the hem of his shirt, yanked it up, and pressed the frozen peas in the spot where I’d hit him. There wasn’t any redness, and hopefully, a bruise wouldn’t form later. Taylor hissed at the iciness against his skin, but didn’t bat the peas away.
We didn’t say anything for a minute. Taylor just sat there while I stood in front of him, staring down at his head. His hair looked soft.
“Does it hurt?” I asked.
“Don’t flatter yourself. You can’t hurt me.”
“I gave you a bloody nose.”
“Because I was asleep and vulnerable.”
“You weren’t asleep.”
A long pause. “I was half asleep.” He didn’t meet my eyes.
I still didn’t get what the big deal was. If I was in bed with Taylor — which I never would be again — and I was half asleep, then sure, I might kiss his neck too. A warm body is a warm body, etcetera, etcetera.
“I’m gonna shower.” He stood up, forcing me out of his way. “I’m fine.” He shoved the peas into my hand and headed towards the bathroom, avoiding my gaze the whole time.