The Girl in the Boys' Dorms

Chapter Nineteen: Iced tea doesn't make for great hair conditioner.

The Girl in the Boys’ Dorms - Chapter Nineteen: Iced tea doesn't make for great hair conditioner. But thanks for the thought.

“Oh, I can smell the cookies now.” A tired, sleep-deprived Kathleen murmured from beside me, unsuccessfully stifling a yawn with her fist. “Please, Bailey, can we hurry up a bit? I’m ravenous.” She admitted to me, raking an uncaring hand through her tangled mass of dark crimson hair.

Although I felt like laughing at her unkempt state, only sympathy washed over me as I surveyed her. She definitely was a sight. Her usually neatly straightened reddish hair was a jungle of uncombed curls, springing everywhere and anywhere all at once; there were bags of fatigue etched underneath her eyes, which were devoid of makeup for what seemed like the first time ever; and rather than having her uniform crisp and pressed, it was sloppy, some of the buttons of her shirt undone and her blazer worn inside out. And as Kathleen walked with me to the cafeteria, it was difficult to judge whether or not I ought to latch onto her elbow and keep her steady; with those stumbling steps, she was likely to collapse at any given second.

It was obvious that when Kathleen signed up for North Shore’s Advanced Journalism course, she hadn’t taken into consideration how hard it would be. She’d been a raging insomniac for the past week, sacrificing precious hours of sleep in order to create the most beautiful research paper the teacher had ever seen.

“Sure,” I nodded, quickening my pace as we breezed around a crowd of students milling just outside the lunch room. “Besides, I haven’t had breakfast.” I added the last part as an afterthought, knowing Kathleen’s embarrassment over eating in front of others; truth was, I’d consumed an elaborate breakfast this morning - doughnuts, bacon, and all.

She brightened a little at that, and raced straight to the line once we stepped foot into the cafeteria. Taking my place behind her, I stood with my arms folded over my chest, scanning the area for a particular blond who was supposed to have met us outside of our last class. But, of course, he was nowhere to be found - although, his awful witch of a stepsister was, and she flipped me the bird when she noticed me glaring at her.

“Is everything alright between you and Chase, then?” Kathleen whispered when she saw that my intense stare was connected to Lucie’s prideful face. Her voice was low and secretive, so that only I could hear what she was saying. “I mean after… well, you know.”

“Kind of,” I mumbled, discomfort creeping over me as Kathleen breached the topic.

And I was being honest. After what had happened - or, to be more accurate, what would have happened if given the chance - things between Chase and I had been awkward. Even though a week had passed since that day on the ferry, and even though October had morphed gracefully into November, we weren’t exactly normal around each other, not like we had been before. That odd moment on the boat had been… I don’t know, just weird.

It wasn’t meant to happen, though. And it didn’t. We were roommates, borderline friends even, a fake couple, but nothing more.

"Has he said anything about it?” Kathleen asked, tugging on my sleeve to bring me back to reality, back to the conversation she had initiated.

As we shuffled forward, toward the serving station, I tried to think of an appropriate answer. Chase had brought it up once, the very next night, when we had both been strategically sticking to our separate sides of the dorm, but I hadn’t allowed him to explain himself. He’d barely forced out the words “can we talk,” before I leapt out of my chair, made an excuse, and bolted out of there faster than lightening. I’d barreled right to Kathleen’s room once I’d made my escape, keen on divulging this secret to her as soon as possible. But that wasn’t where I’d told Chase I was going, and what I’d accidentally said had gotten him more upset than I’d ever witnessed.