Discovering Licapta

8 (pt. i)

AT THE END of the hallway, standing in front of what I guess-timate to be my door, is a tall figure. The man is wearing jeans and a black leather jacket, and has his head buried in what looks like a textbook. The way his head is dipped forward and from my perspective, I can't make out any details of the man's face, only his profile. It's only when the elevator doors close and he looks my way that I'm sure it's Émile who's waiting for me.

Suddenly, I'm making a b-line down the hallway and toward the wiry boy, the paper bags in my arms making soft crinkling noises as they whack against each other. As I cross the space between us, Émile closes the book he's holding and raises a hand in a sort of stationary wave.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, a smile slipping onto my lips despite my confusion. Realizing my question could come across as accusatory, I'm quick to add, "I mean, have you been waiting outside my apartment for long?"

The dark-haired boy shrugs, bending over to retrieve his over-the-shoulder bag from the ground. "About an hour."

"You could have texted me," I point out, placing the handfuls of bags on the floor so I can fish for my keys in my pocket. "I would have told you when I'd be back. I went shopping."

Émile lifts an eyebrow when his gaze finds the pile of bags. "I see that."

"So, why are you here?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder at Émile as I unlock the door.

The boy cringes, his entire face twisting into one of horror as he picks up my purchases. I thank him, but my words are cut off by his explanation.

"Declan's snogging a girl in our room."

Immediately, I shoot Émile an inquisitive look. Shrugging off my jacket, I say, "With you there?"

"Yep," Émile says, removing his backpack and placing it on the floor against the wall. "I was trying to study but the giggles and moans made it hard to pretend they weren't there."

"That's a little rude," I say.

"Especially since it's been happening every freaking day," Émile tacks on. "Always with a different girl, too."

This information makes me recall the first time we met Declan. He'd clearly had female company then. And again when I saw him lip-locked with a girl at the fountain just a few hours later. Now I have to wonder if they had been the same girl or two different lovers.

"Well, that sucks," I say. "Does he ever study?"

"I don't know, but it sure doesn't seem like it. Maybe with any luck he'll get kicked out." Then he lets out a sigh. "Is it okay if I hang out here for a bit?" Émile asks as if I'd actually have the heart to kick him out given the circumstances.

"Of course," I say, noticing the relief that appears in his brown irises when the word leaves my mouth. "I meant it when I said you could come here if your place felt cramped. And this definitely counts as cramped."

"Thank you."

After hanging my jacket in the mirror-doored coat closet, I offer Émile one of the sturdy wood hangers, closing the doors when he shakes his head. "Can I get you something to eat or drink? Drink-wise I only have water and iced tea, but I have more snack options."