Chapter Two - The Rival
CHAPTER TWO
The Rival
I realise I haven’t described Taylor King’s appearance, and that’s because I really don’t want to.
See, I can understand if someone’s smart, athletic, hard-working, and determined. I mean, just look at me.
But imagine being all of those things and being attractive. Talk about God having favourites.
If I didn’t know Taylor and the intimate details of his shitty personality, and I saw him on the street one day…
well, I wouldn’t fall in love with him or anything.
I’m not gay (not that there’s anything wrong with gay.
I’m not a bigot. I’m just personally not gay).
But I would be…taken off guard. Maybe even — and I know this is cringe as hell to admit, but I’m being honest, okay? — a little breathless.
Let’s get the obvious out of the way. Taylor, like me, plays soccer, so he’s lean. Long, toned legs, a six pack of abs I’ve seen hundreds of times in the change rooms, strong biceps but not too bulky. He’s (unfortunately) taller than me, being 6’1, but I’m close behind him at a little under 6 foot.
Then there’s his face. His stupid, disgusting, atrocious face. He’s handsome enough that even my Mum says, “oh, my, he’s one handsome fella.”
Come on Mum! You’re meant to be on my side!
I’m not ugly. I have short, dark blond hair, blue eyes and a square jaw. If I wanted to flatter myself, I’d say I resemble the jock character you’d see in a teen chick flick.
Taylor’s the opposite of me. His hair is ink black, and so silky even I have thought about running my hands through it.
He has dark eyes that make his condescending glares all the more irritating, and his skin is smooth and perfect.
And then he has these cheekbones. They’re high and sharp enough to cut glass, and they make him look like a supermodel.
As much as I hate to admit it, the truth is that he’s so attractive, he could be paid for it.
I know I’ve gone on about Taylor’s looks, which might suggest I’m preoccupied by his appearance, but I’m totally not. I just needed to paint a picture of how he looks so I could properly convey my horror when I realised he was my roommate.
So. Back to the moment in the kitchenette.
Taylor looked down at me, which made me feel like I was tiny compared to him even though we were almost the same height. His features twisted into disgust.
“The fuck are you doing here?” he demanded.
I puffed up my chest and tilted my chin upwards. “I should ask you the same thing. Did you stalk me or something?”
He scoffed. “As if I care an iota about you, Archie.” He said my name the same way someone might say dung beetle. “Now answer my question.”
I hated the way he always bossed me around like he owned me. But I answered anyway, to prove I was in the right.
“This is my dorm room. You know, because I got into Halverton too.”
“Oh, did you?” He raised a eyebrow.
“Yes,” I snapped.
“So you’re the fucker who stole the big bedroom.”
“I was here first. Finders keepers.”
His eyes dragged over me, from the top of my head to my toes, his face screwing up like I was revolting to look at. It made my skin burn.
“Tell the truth, Archie,” he said, voice imperious. “Did you request to room with me?”
I crossed my arms. “Why the hell would I do that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Because you’re obsessed with me?”
I dropped my jaw. “I am not obsessed with you.”
“Yeah. That’s what all stalkers say.”
“I’m not — you’re a fucking narcissist. An actual narcissist. Look it up in the DSM.”
He rolled his eyes. “I forgot how much of a fucking nerd you are.”
I sucked in a breath. He’d been valedictorian, and he had the gall to call me a nerd? “You’re…you’re…” I couldn’t even manage full sentences, that’s how pissed I was.
“Give me the big bedroom,” he interrupted.
“What?”
“I said, give me the big bedroom.” He took a step forward, crowding my space. I could smell his deodorant.
“No!” I replied. “You can’t boss me around. I’m not your little bitch.”
For a moment, he almost looked surprised, his eyes widening ever so slightly. Then, he did that eye thing again, looking me up and down, making me feel hot and flustered.
He took a step back. “Whatever. I’m going to ask to change rooms tomorrow morning, first thing.” With that, he left the kitchenette.
“Good!” I yelled at his retreating back.
As soon as he disappeared into his jail-cell bedroom, the door slamming shut after him, I slumped against the kitchen wall, my legs feeling weak.
I felt like I’d run a marathon, and all I’d done was have a single conversation with Taylor.
The whole thing had lasted less than five minutes, so why did I feel like this?
I decided not to think about it, and returned to my room.
I watched the sun set through my huge window, seeing the way the water turned a gorgeous shade of orange.
I wiped down my desk and bedside table, even though I already cleaned everything.
When the sky turned dark blue, I had a shower.
I made sure the door was locked twice, because part of me was afraid Taylor would storm in and start another fight while I was naked and dripping wet.
I wasn’t sure where that worry came from, because he’d never done anything like that in the past — even when we showered after soccer games, he never so much glanced at me when I’d gotten naked.
Nonetheless, I washed myself quickly, brushed my teeth and returned to my bedroom.
With not much to do, I crawled into bed at 10 PM. Even though I wanted to fall asleep, I kept my ears pricked, listening for Taylor. But I didn’t hear anything, and eventually, I fell asleep.
I jolted awake at seven in the morning. My bones ached, like I hadn’t gotten enough rest.
For a moment, I stared at the unfamiliar ceiling as morning light streamed in through the window. After a few seconds I remembered where I was: Valentina Hall, Halverton University.
Then I remembered my roommate. No, temporary roommate.
He’d reassign himself to another room soon enough.
Sure, the email had said that roommates were final, but if there was one person who could get them to bend the rules, it’d be Taylor.
Despite being a massive dickwad most of the time, all he had to do was smile, and he could charm the grumpiest of grumps.
I got out of bed and washed up in the bathroom, then crept into the living area. When I couldn’t see Taylor anywhere, I relaxed my shoulders.
After pouring myself some water, I fell onto the couch and pulled out my phone.
I wrote my to-do list for the day — I was obsessed with to-do lists and calendars and anything that could maximise my productivity.
Besides, there was a lot I had to do: I needed to buy groceries, pick up my student ID and confirm my classes.
I was in the middle of writing a detailed grocery list, which so far consisted of broccoli and chicken breast, when the front door opened. Taylor stalked inside, holding a scrunched up piece of paper in one hand and a scowl scary enough that I had to fight the urge to hide under the coffee table.
“What’s with you?” I asked.
He walked over, looming over me because I was sitting down. “I talked to reception,” he gritted out, “and they refused to let me swap. They said if they did, they’d be setting a precedent and then everyone would be allowed to change.”
“Did you tell them you’d keep it a secret?”
“Yeah but they still didn’t budge. I’m stuck with you.”
My stomach sank like a rock. “You’re joking.”
“You think I’d joke about this? This is just my luck. I come to university and of course I’m stuck with…” his nose crinkled, as if he smelled something rotten, “you.”
I huffed. I don’t know why he was complaining about this being “just his luck” — the way I saw it, he already was the most privileged guy in the world. One moment of bad luck was what he deserved. I just wished it didn’t involved me.
“So,” he continued, looking at me expectantly.
“What?”
“We need to figure out the room situation.”
“There’s nothing to figure out. I arrived first, I get to choose which room I want. It’s fair and square.”
“Come on, there’s no way I can sleep in that jail cell.”
“And I can?”
“Obviously. You’re smaller than me.”
“By one inch!” I retorted. Sure, maybe Taylor’s shoulders were slightly broader than mine, and he was a tiny bit more built, but it’s not like I was a scrawny twig that he could crush.
“Well, I’m going to have more guests over.”
“Guests?” I echoed.
“Hook ups,” he clarified.
“Yeah, well, me too. That’s not a reason for you to have my room.”
“Come on. Who’d agree to sleep with you?”
Okay, that hurt. I tried not to let it show on my face, even though he’d unknowingly targeted one of my biggest insecurities. “Fuck off,” I said with as much venom as I could. To my surprise, he did leave me alone, returning back to his bedroom with a slam of his door.
I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm myself down. There was no reason to panic about the fact that I’d be stuck with Taylor — Taylor, the guy who made me feel physically sick — for the rest of the year.
Look on the bright side. Maybe he’d flunk out and drop out of college. I let myself indulge in that fantasy for five seconds before remembering just how clever Taylor was. It’d be more likely that I’d drop out before he did.
Don’t worry about it, I told myself. It’s fine. You’re at Halverton! There’s no time to be depressed or anxious.
With that, I returned my focus to my grocery list.
The next few days went by quickly, and Taylor and I didn’t speak to each other once. I ran errands and met fellow first years.