Page 127 of My Roommate from Hell
Bell rolls over to show her belly. Her eyes are so big they are almost cartoon-like, and aren’t showing any of the usual terrors.
“I need a second to talk this through with just Owen,” she says. “Boys, entertain yourselves.”
As we’re leaving, Jackson picks up the basketball on the floor and tosses it into the hoop, getting it in on his first throw.
Luckily for Ashley and me, the dorm kitchen is empty. As soon as the door shuts, Ashley turns to me.
“Why didn’t you tell me you like him?”
I’m too stunned to speak.
She steps closer. “And you did something, too, didn’t you?” Her eyes widen. “Youkissed?”
I’m seriously starting to think she has the ability to read minds. I could lie, but she’ll see right through that.
“Fine, yes, we kissed. But it was weeks ago.”
She gasps. “You dirty scoundrel! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I knew you’d think it means I like him.”
“But you do like him.”
“We’re pretending, remember? We got good at faking it.”
She puts her hand on my arm. “Sweetie, no. We’re past that. I’m your best friend, you think I can’t tell when you like someone?”
I plant my feet. “No, actually.”
“Are you referring to your crush on Jackson? I know about that.”
My mouth drops open. She knew? How? And why didn’t she say anything? Now that the crush I had on Jackson has passed, I feel like I can actually say how I felt. It’s way less dangerous, because it’s a past-tense crush, not the one I am presently afflicted with.
“You knew?” I ask.
“Of course I knew,” she says. “I love you, but sometimes you’re really obvious. Like at Emily’s pool party last summer, you blushed so hard when Jackson took his shirt off. And then when he bear-hugged you to try and throw you in the pool and you flipped out? It wasn’t very platonic. I kept wondering if you would talk to me about it. Why didn’t you, by the way?”
“I didn’t know how,” I say. “I didn’t want things to be weird. You aren’t upset?”
“You can’t control crushes. And you would never do anything with him, not after we became official. But that’s in the past. Are you going to tell Zarmenus how you feel?”
“Um, no.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not real for him!”
“Wow, I really was needed here. It’s obviously real for him, too. He’s almost as easy to read as you are.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not. I don’t do that. O, trust me, he likes you.”
I don’t buy it, even if there is a part of me that wishes he actually likes me. But I know in my heart that’s not the truth. Zarmenus is the most confident person I’ve ever met. If he liked me in that way, he would just tell me.
“We should go back,” I say.
“Seriously, trust me. He likes you. You need to tell him.”
