Dreamjumper

Chapter Thirteen

"There has to be another room somewhere. You don't just run out."

Black boots slamming down on the polished wood, Jay paced the room restlessly. Her phone tucked under her ear, she bit her lip angrily as the receiver of her tirade tried to explain the situation.

Picking at the decrepit grey comforter, I tried to sit as quietly as possible on the unused bed opposite Jay's side of the room. It was obvious which half belonged to her; on the left side, the walls were painted a sickly blue that had faded with age. They were completely barren, with not even a bland picture of a floral arrangement to make it a little homier. The walk-in closet was propped open to reveal five or six winter coats, its small racks containing only mittens, scarves, hats and gloves.

On the right, the walls were painted a dark, rich red, and every square inch of it was covered in vintage rock posters and concert memorabilia. The black comforter that spanned the queen sized-bed looked soft and thick, patterned with white feathers and folded neatly under matching pillows. The closet was full to the brim with jackets, leggings, fingerless gloves, and T-shirts; even the dresser looked lived-in, a jewelry box bursting with bracelets and little trinkets perched on its surface.

It was an incredible room - I hoped that I would have a space like this in the dorms someday. Unfortunately, it didn't look like that space was going to be here - Jay was looking angrier by the second, her eyebrows furrowed and her thin mouth twisted in a scowl.

"We had an agreement about what would happen with this room once she transferred. Are you telling me that we don't have a deal anymore?"

Silence. All of a sudden, she stopped her pacing in the middle of the room. After a moment, she tilted her chin up slightly; her eyes flashed with satisfaction, and the hint of a smirk played on her lips.

"Not the best arrangement. But if you're willing to follow through, I can work with it," she said.

More silence.

"Good," she said haughtily, before her tone turned dark. "But you'd better make a note for your manager, because after this, I will not be compromising for anyone." She ended the call, and then turned to me with the same cold expression from the club.

"Three months," she said, her voice monotonous. "Three months, and you're out. You are not staying here any longer than what's required."

"Got it," I said, my throat dry. I didn't even feel the need to try to appease her; I was tired, and it seemed that there would be no way to get on good terms with her.

"And you're not touching anything on my side of the room. There will be no clothes-swapping, no makeup exchanges, no nothing," Jay said, before turning and stalking off into her walk-in closet.

I gave a heavy sigh before falling back onto the bed. God, why is she always on edge? I thought, grasping a handful of comforter absentmindedly. It's not as if I've stolen anything from her in the past.

A sudden thought flashed in my mind.

I could call Alistair. He said to call if anything happened.

But for some reason, once I really considered the idea, I didn't really want to go through with it. I kind of wanted to stay here, as irritating as Jay was, just to prove something to her. I'd show her that I wasn't the idiot she'd made me out to be. Besides, I didn't want to be the person who complained on the first night at the society. I'd stick it out, just for three months - I wasn't even going to be here every night, anyway, so what did it matter? It was on this thought that I drifted off into oblivion, not even dressed for bed or under the comforter.