Page 106 of My Roommate from Hell
“You came in,” he says.
“Apparently.”
He’s doing that thing where he holds my gaze, so he’s looking right into my eyes. It reminds me how little I actually hold eye contact with anyone. But in this moment, I’m not scared.
He moves closer. “Can I kiss you?”
He said it so casually, as if he were asking me how my day is going. But that is not an everyday phrase. It’s not something I’ve ever been asked before.
“What,” I say, shaking my head. “Why?”
But my imagination has already taken hold, and it’s taking me to dangerous places. I’m imagining him closing the distance, scooping me up, and carrying me across the pool effortlessly, before my back touches the cold tile and he gets rid of any distance and kisses me. I am aware of everyone watching but I don’t care, because who could care about anything while a dripping-wet dream boy is kissing you?
“I’m sorry,” he says. “That’s too far, I’m sorry. I just thought it would be a good idea, because couples usually kiss at things like this, and people are watching.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “I get it. We should. I just…”
“Don’t want to kiss me.”
“It’s not that,” I say. I don’t want to admit anything to him, because I’m sure it’ll make him think I’m some sort of failure. He’s kissed so many people. It’s not a big deal to him like it is to me.
“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” he says. “Forget I asked.”
Like that’s possible.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“That was surprisingly fun for a fundraiser,” says Zarmenus. “The ones back home were always so boring. Although one time a pair of Hellhounds escaped. That was fun.”
We’ve made it back to our dorm room. As I take my phone and wallet out of my pockets and put them on my desk, he drops down onto his bed, instantly getting comfortable. Bell appears out of nowhere and jumps onto his chest, demanding to be petted.
“Right?” I say. “Frat boys know how to throw a party, I’ll give them that.”
It truly was a great night. The pool eventually became crowded, with hundreds of people together enjoying the music. The DJ’s mix was all mash-ups of popular songs, some of which have no business sounding as good as they did. I had a long conversation on the bleachers with a drunk frat guy who kept asking me for relationship advice. He reminded me a little of a golden retriever, and I hope he follows my advice and tells the girl he likes how he feels.
Like always, Zarmenus was the life of the party. He showed off his control of his magic by creating a phoenix out of flames and having it fly circles over the pool, a magic trick that was cut short when pool staff told him to stop. He also saved the day when a shark fin appeared in the pool, which wound up being a poltergeist that Zarmenus had to banish with a spell.
Another major thing happened, and as fun as everything else was, it’s what I’ve been thinking about most. Zarmenus asked to kiss me. Even if it was to throw people off our scent, he still asked. And now I’m here wishing I’d said yes, even if I know in my heart of hearts that it’d be a terrible idea. It might be the worst idea. I know with complete surety that I did the right thing in turning him down.
So why do I feel like this?
Suddenly I’m back in the pool, treading water. Zarmenus is in front of me, his fiery eyes the most beautiful thing on this, or any, world. I say yes, and we move to where it’s shallow enough to stand. He pushes me back into the pool wall, leaving his hands on my waist. I hook my hands around the band of his necklace and pull him to my lips.
Instead, I did the sensible thing. The right move. Only now I’m kicking myself because I could’ve done that, but I didn’t.
“What are your plans for the rest of the night?” he asks. He runs a hand through his hair. It’s still slightly damp from the pool, making it curlier than normal. It suits him.
The true answer is I’m going to spend the night thinking about what could’ve been if I’d said yes.
“I think I’ll just go to bed,” I say instead. “You?”
“Yeah, same.”
“Cool.”
It’s like there’s a spell that’s been cast over the space. I can feel it, I’m just not sure that he can. There’s a lot being left unsaid, which makes total sense. I don’t know yet how he feels about me turning him down. As brash as he can seem sometimes, he can be so earnest. And I think it takes an incredibly strong person to brush off being rejected for a kiss. If our roles were reversed, I’d be devastated.
“I’m going to brush my teeth,” I say. I spin away, shattering the spell, and go into the bathroom. I turn the tap on and just watch the water run for a second. I shouldn’t care this much. People kiss all the time, it’s not a big deal. It would be my first kiss, sure, but I’m eighteen. I should kiss someone and get it over with. We’ve beenacting like boyfriends for so long now. Would it really have been so bad for us to kiss one time?
