Page 54 of And They Were Roommates

I follow the dripping spit-paste with my eyes. “Can… I join you?”

Jasper’s surprise flips to a smile, and he quickly shuffles over to make space like he fears I’ll change my mind. The way he acts whenever I approach him first. Like nothing has changed between us. He wets his toothbrush again and resumes brushing.

Didhe figure it out?

As I grab my toothbrush from our shared wall holder, I realize we’ve never gotten ready together. Jasper is usually out the door before I’m out of bed.

Jasper spits out his toothpaste, into the sink this time. “Did I wake you?”

“N-no,” I say, directing my stare to the sink.

“I’m glad. I try not to.”

Is this why I usually sleep through his routine? “Thanks.”

“You usually aren’t up this early.” His voice is as melodic and articulated as usual.

Same as always.

“I have lots of studying to do,” I mutter, feeling like the most brainless Excellence Scholar to ever enter Valentine. Of course Jasper wasn’t examining my face while I was sleeping. He was staring out the window. Or something. Right? After how much Ms. White harped on the scientific method in chemistry last week, she’d be ashamed of how Jasper makes me jump to conclusions. “I gotta keep up my grades to stay here.”

Jasper looks right at me. His morning-person joy has been wiped away by a frown. “Von Hevringprinz, you were selected out of thousands to be our Excellence Scholar. Please, never think of leaving.”

“Jasper’s love life?” Xavier asks, voice strained. He’s fighting for his life with a jammed lever on the side of a workout machine, since I finally recovered enough from the cardio he had me doing to graduate to weights.

“Yeah,” I say, wiping my forehead. We’ve just started our first weight training session with stretches, and I’ve broken a sweat. Somehow, Pragma Recreational Center always magically smells like a bouquet, even though each body in here has to be as sticky as mine. Must be the work of Saint Valentine’s spirit. “What’s going on there?”

“How come you’re super interested?”

“Notsuperinterested.” But Blaze couldn’t give me a firm answer last night, and without this information I’ll never be able to write the love letters to Jasper’s satisfaction. Xavier seems to know him best among the student population, so he’s my last shot. “I should know since he’s my love tutor, you know? His credentials. A résumé.”

“You seem interested.” Xavier manages to shove the lever down a few rungs, and it echoes through the abandoned room. Whatever he’s changing seems related to the weights. He must need to make adjustments because I’m weak.

“I’m not.” But as I say it, even I hear how ridiculous and whiny it sounds. I was already insecure enough working out with Xavier, but now I’m asking about another guy’s love life when we’re supposed to be acting like manly men. “Forget it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, we got belldumbs to lift.”

“Dumbbells. We’ll start slower than that.” Xavier stands, grabbing a curved bar hovering above the machine’s seat. I swear I see his bicep pulse through his tracksuit. “This is a lat pull-down bar. It simulates pull-up motions on an easier scale, especially if you can’t lift your whole body mass yet. As you get stronger, I’ll readjust the lever I was messing with. Word?”

My zero strengthwasthe reason for the adjustments. “W-word.”

Xavier pulls a stopwatch out of his track pants pocket. “First, let’s see where you’re at. Pull down that bar as many times as you can in one minute.”

I sit on the seat. At least no other students are here to witness my inevitable humiliation.

Shifting into position, I place one hand on the bar. My newtracksuit might be a size M instead of Xavier’s XL, and this equipment might be ten times my weight, but I’m as tall as Jasper at five eight. He could probably pull this bar a lot of times. I can match him. “Ready.”

“Charlie?” Xavier makes a face. “You gotta use both hands.”

“Oh.” I place my other hand on the bar.

He doesn’t stop staring. “Have you done a pull-up before?”

Should I have? Is this something boys innately know how to do out of the womb? Am I so unteachable that Xavier will walk away?

“Not really,” I admit.

---