As Easy As Murder

8. stoop to my level

Loretta turns the knob on the slushy machine, holding her cup underneath and the blue  substance pours into it. She's in her pajamas, pigtails sticking out the sides of her head. She's convinced some guy across the 711 is staring at her. Yeah, he's staring alright. 

I look down at my phone, Dad has sent me yet another link to some song he discovered. I ignore it, being It's the 9th one he's sent in the past 5 days. When he 'discovers' a song, it's usually a song that was popular a few months ago, he somehow didn't hear it, and now he's finally getting the memo. 

We walk over to the chip aisle, and Loretta picks up a bag of Fritos. The overhead lights in the store are a big contrast to the vampire cave of a dorm I now live in. A vintage song blasts through the speakers, the cashier bobbing his head along, rats nest of surfer hair bobbing along with it. 

"Av?" Loretta grumbles. I turn to look at her. 

"Yeah?" 

"You run into that guy again yet?" She shrugs a shoulder towards me, picking up a microwaveable dinner from the freezer section, unmistable smell of laziness wafting through the air. I groan at the mention of the guy and shake my head. 

She smirks and places her very health-forward items on the counter, sliding the half-awake cashier a crumples 20. We exit the 711, bell ringing as we do. I slide into the drivers seat of my bug, Loretta opting for the back so she can slump over. We orginally came to 711 to get Loretta some advil for a migraine, being it's the closest thing to our dormitory. 

"You feeling better?" 

She just shakes her head. Loretta has had migraines since we were kids. She ran out of her prescription pain relief yesterday. 

I drive back to the dorm, the peppy voice of a female singer on the radio, sparkle sound effects in the back. I pull into the familiar parking lot, and see that Anthony guy from criminology outside under the awning of the entrance, pacing and very animatedly talking on the phone. I sigh, hoping I can use that fact that it's night time to slip by without him recognizing me, because I know he's the type to not take a hint. 

Loretta follows me, groaning and moaning about the moon being too bright as she does. We manage to slip by a frustrated Anthony and get to elevators. Loretta stops just before we get in. 

"I think I'm gonna take the stairs. I can't take the motion of the elevator right now." 

I nod and she goes in the opposite direction besides the glowing emergency stairs sign. I get into the first elevator that opens and click floor 4, but it surpasses to floor 6. Ugh, of course. It stops with a beep, rusty doors shakily opening to reveal khaki-wearing antichrist himself. He steps in, pretending not to see me. 

I decide I'm tired of holding my tongue, pretending he didn't say too much that day at the mall, not taking my revenge. I slowly inch closer to him, shuffling sideways. It takes only a few shuffles until I've earned a side-eye. He coughs, signaling for me to stop, but of course I don't. 

He rolls his eyes and looks me up and down, "When I said dress more respectable, I didn't say dress homeless." 

"Pardon?" I scoff, drawing back and sprawling a hand on my chest, feeling my lazily thrown up ponytail flip, feeling like I'm in a sitcom. He just smirks, a mixture of evilness and amusment. He's holding the same binder from Criminology, now opting for some dark jeans, with a red grandpa sweater. His hair is no longer in his signature wave and is now just a puffy mess that resembles a poorly cut mullet. 

He starts reading a peice of paper that is laid overtop his binder. I place both hands on his shoulder, standing on my tippy-toes, looking over his head at the words on the pace, invading his personal space. His mouth opens in defense, he's about to push me off when the elevator doors open at room 1. And who walks on? Redhead himself. 

Anthony smiles a big dopey grin, waving and positioning himself in the corner. 

"Hey, both of you guys are in my Criminology class. Isn't proffesor Simon's great? She's pretty too, huh Kori? Ha. Maybe I'll get partnered with one of you on the fake murder project. You'd be lucky, I'm an expert, see-" 

Kori puts a hand on his forehead, rubbing his temples. I lean back against the bar as Anothony presses 12. The highest possible floor. Great. Just Great. 

I snatch the peice of paper of of his binder, giggling innocently as I read it. It's the last thing  I expected; something I thought would be beyond the comprehension of his close-minded nature. My eyes widen, and he groans, knowing I've discovered the perfect piece of his life to give him hell about, "Poem?" 

He snatches it back, leaning his head against the brown marbel of the elevators wall, Anthony's voice having become background noise. 

He stammers over his words, "I-It's just..I didn't write it, It just, it was for a thing." 

I laugh, still in shock that someone so uptight and rehearsed would have such a lovey-dovey docile poem in his posession. Anthony leaves the elevator, and neither of us aknowledge him. I one again leap forward and have the poem in my hands. My eyes glance over the words, eyes widening at how detailed the descriptions were, captivating. The poem expresses the pain and humility of longing for something you can't have, it captures the helpless gaping hole in the soul, longing for what can not fill it. 

He looks away, avoiding my gaze. 

"You're a hopeless romantic." I smirk, and he immediately jumps to his own defense, ripping the now sacred peice of paper out of my grip, brown furrowed. The elevator arrives on his floor and I follow him out. 

"It's just a stupid poem, nothing. I just jotted it down one night, it doesn't mean anything." He insists as our footsteps echo in the hall. His floor is slightly different, 70's carpet replaced by plain maroon, modern art hung upon the walls, no window at the end and cube light fixtures hung Infront of each door. 

"You don't just jot down something like that, Lucifer." 

He stops Infront of one, and turns back to look at me. "What are you still doing here? And, Lucifer?" His face scruches in contempt, but his eyes tell a different story. A story of suprise and confusion, as if no one has ever spent this long in his prescense, which is no shocker to me. 

I shrug, "What? You never had a nickname?" 

"Lucifer is longer than Kori by 3 letters." 

Smartass. 

He enters his dorm, and I catch glimpse of Anthony on the couch. I burst out laughing, his bad luck very amusing. He rolls his eyes, crossing her arms and turns over his shoulder to see the still enthusiastic Anthony. He looks back at me. "I did random roommate."

I walk away, but not before stomping on his foot. I flee to the sound of his 'damn It damn it damn it'. I get back to my own dorm, suddenly grateful for Loretta. She's sitting on the counter next to the stove, frying something. She looks up at me. "Where the hell were you?" 

"Got held up at the elevator." I walk past her to our room, flopping down on the bed. 

I scroll through TikTok, trying to ignore the weird feeling of emptiness, the weird feeling that there's something I haven't found yet, or haven't realized. Loretta sits down on her bed, eating a fried egg. 

"It's 10pm." 

She shrugs and continues shoving the egg into her mouth. I lay back, my eyes meeting that of the Blondie poster, which has now become my arch nemesis. 

I sigh, feeling my chest rise and fall. The sound of pouring rain outside soothes me, arms crossed over my chest. I get an important email notification and see It's from Professor Simon's. 

'Hello everyone in 8am Criminology, I am just reminding you that tommorow, Octobern 1st, is the day partners for the fake case will be selected. Please bring a binder to class, as very important papers will be handed out. This fake case will impact your grade. 

Have a good evening, Patricia Simons.'

I reflect on the elevator with Kori. Not on his sappy love poem, not on my calling him Lucifer, not on Anthony's self-achievment monologue, but on his eyes. I shake it off. I can't believe that thought sprung into my head, for a split second, I saw appeal in Kori Laurier. 

I must ensure it never happen again. 

Loretta looks over at me, and notices the red tint on my cheeks. "Who are you thinking about?" She raises an eyebrow. 

"I dunno....The Rock." 

She gives me a look. 

"....Gordan Ramsey?" 

She intensifies the look. 

"....Kori. BUT I STILL HATE HIM THO-" 

She jumps up, standing on the beds, arms raised in victory. "I KNEW IT!" 

I groan. 

My phone chimes, a Pinterest notification. 

'Gift Ideas for him.' 

OH COME ON.