30 Days Too Late

The Roommate

Rudy

I glance at my watch, if I finish this cardio workout quickly, I can move on to weights and beat everyone else. Increasing my pace, I exhale through my nose, feeling the coach's insistence on running in this cold weather. I notice Dexter not far behind and push myself harder as the stadium rink comes into view.

I reach the locker room and ease into a walk. After clocking my time, I check the bathroom. I'm the first one here, which is perfect. I've trained all summer for this. Turning towards the swinging door, I take a swig from my water bottle. Dexter strolls lazily to his locker. I step aside to give him space, noticing how exhausted he looks.

"Looks like someone could use more cardio," I quip.

"I'm saving my energy for when it counts," he retorts and I mumble.

"Dexter," Coach Johnson calls as he enters the locker room.

"Your father requested you run ten laps around the rink, you'll skip lifting,"  he states.

Dexter nods hesitantly while he takes small sips from his water bottle. He side eyes me before readjusting his crotch and jogs away. So, the captain has to put in more work? And his dad requested the extra laps and they obliged? He's either famous or a sponsor. I could find out if I learn Dexter's last name.

"Langston, stop daydreaming. Get to lifting," Coach Johnson snaps.

"Yes, sir," I reply.
...

My eyebrow twitches as Dexter planks in front of me. His determined expression pushes my buttons. "Aren't you tired?" I ask.

"Not at all," he replies.

"Your pale," I comment.

"Not important," he huffs.

"You sure you're not sick, I can tell Coach Johnson for you?" I ask with a big smile on my face.

Dexter stands up and I do as well. His eyes drill into mine as he towers over me, fueling our noticeable height difference.

"What?" I smirk.

He grips the collar of my shirt, drawing me closer and I grip his wrist. "Who do you think you are, huh?" he whispers.

"Your competition," I answer.

Dexter's eyes angrily look between mine. His hold tightens and the slight action gets our teammates attention. "Let go of me before you start something you can't finish," I say.

He jerks and releases me in the process. "You need to be put in your place," he growls.

Before I can reply, he's heading down the ramp with the others. Our teammates only batted one eye. They ignored Dexter and I's confrontation out of instinct. I enter the locker room and steam from the shower makes it hard to breathe.

Dexter is nowhere to be found which makes my exit easier. I slide on my backpack then refill my water bottle from the dispenser. "Yoo someone had a serious nosebleed," Jeff laughs from the showers.

I peek around the corner and spot a small trashcan filled with blood-soaked tissues. Whoever's nosebleed that was must've been traumatic. How are they still walking? "Jesus," I mutter.

I'll shower at my dorm as planned, especially because of this. I'm grossed out. My stomach growls and I shift directions, heading to the residence store first. I enter the small convenience and the air conditioning hits me like a brick, but it feels nice at the same time.

The fridge is empty, and I'll take this chance to fill my side up. I walk to the back where the liquids are located. Milk, orange juice, and lemonade are my top drinks. Maybe I should grab some microwave meals as well.