Like a Moth to a Flame

Chapter 2

"What the hell are you doing in my room?" a male voice yells behind me. I spin around quickly, dropping the book that I was holding. When I look up to see who the voice belongs to, I gasp. A tall, dark-haired boy stands in the doorway. Anger in his grayish black eyes takes over them. He is in a tank top and shorts which show off his muscles.

I feel my jaw drop and I try to close it, but it just opens again. He looks like a beautiful, sexy Greek god. I backtrack on my thoughts. What is a boy doing in my dorm? "What are you doing in my dorm?" I asked him, trying not to seem scared. Maybe he is my roommate's boyfriend. Or he could have the wrong dorm. That wouldn't make sense.

He said that it was his room. "I asked you a question first," he told me. "I was simply curious about my roommate," I spoke in a calm manner. "Well, it seems I'm your roommate," he told me. He must be confused.

I can't have a male roommate. It's not possible. It's an all-girl dormitory. Right? I questioned myself. "That's not possible," I told him. He just chuckled darkly. "Yes, it is. This is a mixed gender boarding school. So, they don't care if they put a girl and boy together." I didn't come across that piece of information on the website.

"Now close your mouth and get out of my room. I don't want you to get drool on my carpet," he said. "Sorry." I practically ran out of his room. Right as I passed him, he said, "Never come in here again or you will regret it." She walks down the hallway to get to her hallway when he shouts at her again. "And turn down that awful music." I roll my eyes. He's so demanding, but I turn down the speaker anyway and bring it to my room.

The next day, I wake up to my alarm clock blaring on my nightstand. I sigh and reach over to turn it off. I grumpily got up and grabbed my phone to play music, making sure I didn't turn it up too loud to annoy... I realize I don't even know my roommate's name. I decide to ask him the next time I see him.

I touch my bare feet to the soft carpet and stretch. The music gets me into a good mood and before I know it, I'm humming along, getting my stuff ready for a shower. Grab my speaker and phone along with my clothes I picked for today and bring it into the bathroom with me. I close the door, set my stuff down on the counter and turn on the shower and turn to face the mirror.

My hair looks like a bird's nest, but otherwise I look decent. I strip my clothes off and test the water before hoping in the shower. I reach for my loofah and start singing along with the music that's on.

Some mistakes get made. That's alright, that's okay. You can think that you're in love. When you're really just in pain. Some mistakes get made. That's alright, that's okay. In the end, it's better for me. That's the moral of the story, babe.

By the time I finish, I'm in my normal peppy mood. I get dressed in a pair of light blue ripped jeans, a white spaghetti strap crop top, an oversized light blue and black flannel, and my Nike air forces. I put a little of black mascara on and brush my hair out. I've never really been a fan of makeup.

Calling it a day and leaving my hair out with its natural blonde waves, I walk out of the bathroom, making sure I grab my phone and speaker on the way out. I turn off my speaker and walk the short distance to my bedroom. I check the time on my phone and see that I only have forty-five minutes to get breakfast and get to class on time since school started at nine o'clock.

I get my bag and phone and head out of my off my room, closing the door on the way out. When I enter the kitchen, I see my roommate is up and fixing coffee. The smell of bitter coffee makes me want to throw up. I'm about to head out the door silently, not wanting to have a conversation with him, but he speaks up to my luck. "Your forgetting something," he tells me.

I turn around to see that he's holding my keys to the dorm that's attached to my lanyard. I must have left it on the counter yesterday without realizing it. "Thank you," I say, trying to keep my peppy mood and not seem scared of him. I reach and taking it from his hands and putting it around my neck. "I'm Daisy," I tell him.

"Oakley," he says in a monotone voice. He turns back around and grabs a mug from the cabinet. Oakley is such a beautiful name. It definitely fits he's face and body. "Well by now," I say. I wait for a response but I don't get one. I sigh a little and head out the door, locking it back. This is going to be an eventful 6 years.