Page 65 of My Roommate from Hell
“He was on the football team,” I say.
“Quarterback? People on human TV crush on quarterbacks all the time.”
“No, he was a right midfielder.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“Anyway, he was, like, the nicest, most popular guy.”
“And hot, right?”
“So hot.”
“Okay, so you liked this hot football guy, I’m a little jealous. Did anything happen?”
“No, he was straight. The straightest. He had, like, three girlfriends.”
“At the same time? Progressive.”
“No, like, in a row. Everyone wanted to date him. My point is that he’s straight. But sometimes I felt like he might’ve liked me. I don’t know, sometimes there were these moments when he’d look at me or he’d laugh extra hard at a joke I made and it seemed like he was feeling what I was. I’m sure it was all in my head, though.”
“You should’ve told him.”
“Fuck no. It could’ve ruined me.”
“Or he could’ve ruined you,” he says with a grin. “In a fun way. All right, so that’s crush one. Who’s crush two?”
“Ethan. He was in theater, and he was so thoughtful and smart and dreamy. We used to get the bus home together and whenever he’d sit next to me I thought my heart was going to explode.”
“Gay or?”
“Bi.”
“So why didn’t you make a move on him?”
“He didn’t think of me that way.”
“How do you know?”
“I could just tell,” I say. “He was flirty with pretty much everyone but never with me.”
It reminds me of a night two years ago. It was a house party, and I was only slightly tipsy. I was at the peak of my crush. The whole day I’d been thinking about him, wondering what he thought of me, and if we’d talk at the party. We were friendly, but I wouldn’t call us friends, and anytime he gave me attention I’d think about it for weeks. I was sitting on the stairs while Ashley was in the bathroom, and Ethan came and sat next to me. He sat so close that the sleeve of his shirt brushed against mine, and I remember wondering if it was possible to feel better about anything. I seriously thought that moment might have been the best moment of my entire life.
He complimented me a few times, telling me my eyes were the prettiest he’d ever seen. Then Ashley came out of the bathroom and I didn’t know what to do so I just left.
“Wait,” says Zarmenus. “This boy sat so close to you that you were touching, then told you that you have the prettiest eyes he’sever seen, and you don’t think he liked you?” He looks up into my eyes. “Wow, he’s right, your eyes are really pretty.”
“He didn’t like me,” I say, ignoring the compliment. “He was drunk, I don’t know. It’s not like he told me he’s into me.”
“He for sure liked you,” he says. “I know a lot about boys, and boys only say that stuff when they think of you in that way.”
I’ve lost so many hours of sleep thinking about how different my life would’ve been if I hadn’t left that night. I don’t know if Ethan had a crush on me like I did, or if he was just looking for someone to hook up with, but that moment was something. I’ve always known it. And I’ve always known that me leaving to go with Ashley sent a signal I wasn’t sure I wanted to send, and the result was, well, us spending less time together until my crush on him went away. The memory is so vivid that I’m sure if I closed my eyes, it would feel like I’m right back on that staircase.
“I’m sensing a pattern,” he says. “You like guys, but you don’t tell them.”
“It’s never felt like the right time,” I say. “When it’s the right time to tell someone how I feel, I’ll know it.”
“Anyway, tell me about crush number three.”
