Charlie
Noah: Closing the store, and gonna work on the demo
Noah: Not tonight. I’m sorry. We are really trying to finish it.
The dorm feels too small tonight. The air’s stale from leftover popcorn and the faint trace of Payton’s vanilla perfume. She’s sitting cross-legged on her bed, laptop open, typing something fast, too fast, like she’s trying to pretend I’m not here.
I twist the end of my blanket between my fingers. “Hey,” I say softly. “You wanna come by Noah’s sometime? I think you’d really like his music, and it’s like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
Payton doesn’t look up. “I can’t. I gotta study, and Ryder is gonna help me with my algebra, so yeah...”
“Seriously?” I ask, slamming my computer shut and not giving a damn if I closed out of a stupid discussion post. They're annoying anyway, and I have no idea why responding to three classmates is gonna help me earn a master’s degree.
I take a deep breath trying to sound casual, even though my heart drops heavily.
She shrugs, eyes still glued to her screen. “Sorry. I’ve just been really busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Studying?”
“Nobody studies. Why are you studying with my brother?”
She blinks at the remark, rolls her eyes.
Well, maybe I study, like right now I'm studying her, how she avoids eye contact, how she’s smiling when her phone buzzes, but tries to play it cool that she isn’t excited about something...
or someone. I can tell. There’s something else sitting between us, heavy and quiet, like a secret she doesn’t want me to see.
“We haven’t hung out since we got here,” I complain. Which is true.
“I’m sorry. I guess we’ll hang out some other time.”
“Fine, whatever.”
The silence that follows buzzes louder than the dorm’s air conditioner.
I melt into my pillow and scroll aimlessly on my phone, pretending I’m fine.
My thumb stops on Noah’s name, the last message still unread.
He’s been quiet too. I sent him spicy pictures of me in the bathroom this morning, even a little video of me touching myself, telling him I was thinking about him.
He could have sent me an emoji with heart eyes or something.
No, he just read it and didn’t say anything.
I didn’t even see the three little dots telling me he was writing me back.
Even the other day when I jerked him off, and he fingered me, something seemed off.
He was always running away the second I wanted to please him, or even worship his dick for half a second.
I’ve never seen desire like that in his eyes for me.
It’s like ants are crawling all over my skin.
Something doesn’t feel right, and I don’t want to become that insecure girl again like I was with Brody.
But my gut is telling me something just isn’t right.
And with Payton’s pulling away too, I’m unsure if I can even vomit up all my feelings and insecurities and pull apart Noah’s behavior.
She’s the only one who’s good at dissecting guys.
Something happened during Roulette, and I just know it.
I can just tell her right now I'm a terrible, toxic friend that dragged her into a game that she shouldn’t have played.
She landed on someone... my brother, and I just want her to own up to it.
I glance across the room at Payton’s wall covered in music posters, and string lights that give off a pretty faint orange glow. Payton’s smiling at her phone, typing quickly. My stomach is in knots. She looks up and catches me staring.
“Who are you texting?”
“No one. It's just a funny meme I came across.”
There’s a ringing in my ears I can’t shut off.
She turns back to her screen like it’s no big deal, like she didn’t just punch the air out of my lungs.
I swallow hard, looking down at my chipped nail polish.
I tell myself it’s fine. That I’m overthinking again.
That everyone’s just busy and I'm reading into things again.
God, I could go for a cigarette right now.
It’s 12:52 p.m. I’ve texted Payton a million times, and dumb me has been sitting hunched over on this back-breaking stool for almost an hour. I’ve already eaten my lunch, because I wasn’t about to wait another second with the angry grumbling in my stomach for Payton to finally show up.
The student union has finally started to die down because most people are heading to classes and lunch is almost over. People shuffle their bags off the floor, computers close, now there are actually outlets I can use to charge my phone.
I stare down at the two cups on the round table.
Mine’s empty with just ice stained in coffee while the iced coffee I got for Payton is untouched.
It looks watered down, layers separating like oil and water, condensation dripping down the sides.
I shoved a bunch of napkins under it to soak it all up.
I check the time again, and I really need to start packing up as my next class is going to start soon.
As I slide off the stool to pack up my things, I hear the giggles, her loud, obnoxious voice.
When I glance over, she struts like she's on the runway, flipping her hair back with a hand, her lips are glossy, and she has makeup on.
This girl can barely brush her hair and she curled it today.
What is happening? Did I fall into an alternative reality or something?
But of course the one standing next to her is Ryder.
He’s got this stupid half-smirk on, hands in his pockets, he's walking smoothly like he's trying to impress her.
I wanna punch that smile right off his face.
They're close – too close. Their arms are brushing as they walk, and he's doing that cute shoulder push.
To make it worse, Payton is wearing my tube top.
The one that pushes up your boobs to make them look bigger.
Heat rushes up my neck before they even get to the table.
Payton waves, smiling like she didn’t just waste my entire afternoon. “Sorry, I barely saw your message. Ryder was helping me with some algebra homework.”
I don’t falter. I won’t grant her the pleasure of a smile on my face. “Well, we are supposed to present this skit today, and now I have to go to another class.”
She blinks at me, confused, like a pigeon staring out a window. “I thought you didn’t have class until two.”
“It starts in fifteen minutes, Payt! I reminded you this morning. I sent you a message, for Christ's sake.”
“Look, I’m sorry. Ryder said he would help me.”
When I turn my gaze to my brother, he’s scratching the back of his neck and starts to step back awkwardly. “Look, I just came here to get some food.” He holds up his hands and shakes his head before making his exit.
“What is really going on? You’re texting someone, you don’t want to hang out, you want to study, and now you're with him? Doing math? What the hell?”
“You're reading into it.”
“Reading into it?” I scoff and start laughing.
I push the chair, and its legs screech across the floor as I fight with my charger and computer so it will fit in my bag.
“This is such bullshit.” How can she be that blind?
She's wearing my clothes, giggling like a damn sissy schoolgirl with the biggest doe eyes when she sees my brother.
“Why are you so uptight with me hanging out with Ryder? You’ve never cared this much before.”
“But you’ve never ditched me to hang out with him.”
Her jaw tightens. “You ditched me all summer to go be with your ex, who literally gave me hell that night when we played roulette.”
“I wasn’t seeing him. I broke up with him.”
“You're such a liar!”
I start laughing. This is amusing. “I’m a liar?” I press a hand against my chest. I zip up my bag as I grab it, it hits the chair, nearly toppling it over.
“You knew I didn’t want to play that stupid game. I knew what that hazing game entailed, and you dragged me right into it. You're supposed to be my best friend.” Payton holds out her arms and does that tantrum foot stomping, and her eyes are glistening. Great. Now she's going to cry.
“If you're honestly screwing my brother, lying to my face about it, and then treating me like the bad guy, then you’re mental.” My throat burns, and I taste the anger like metal on my tongue. “By the way, I got you coffee.” I point to the diluted masterpiece on the table before I storm out.