After the grueling two hours was over I left my class with my notebook jammed under my arm and my phone in my hand. I'd been texting Harry all throughout my class, feeling like a mischievous high school kid again - knowing that I'd get dismissed if I was caught. But I couldn't help myself, because he was a lot more amusing than repetitively connoting and denoting the same Breaking Bad adverts - which my teacher was obsessed with.
Although most of the one hundred and twenty minutes was spent flirting, there were some positive outcomes. I eventually managed to slip in my building and make it look like an accident - one respect point to me! And another was that I learnt a little bit about Harry, too, beyond just his white sock fetish.
I found out that he co-owns a bakery somewhere uptown in Wolverhampton called Desmond's Desserts. It's a place he shares management with his dad - who the place is named after. Of course, I had to subdue a lot of 'bun' euphemisms to find that out, but it was a nice surprise. There was nothing I liked more in a guy than someone who knew how to fill my stomach with sweet treats, and according the wide range of things Harry listed that he specialized in baking; my stomach had the potential to burst if I ever went. Maybe we should've went there on our date.
I glanced at the time on my phone when I finally reached the foyer of my building, 4:05. Okay, that's good. I told Harry to meet me outside my building at 4:30 because my class had been extended at the last minute, but I just didn't want him to know I was taking a detour back to my room to check on Liam, throw on a fresh shirt and drop my notebook off.
The first thing I heard when I fell through my dorm door in a hurry was, "Did you get my juice?"
I cursed under my slightly panted breaths and shook my head, apologizing to the slump of man that was entangled between my covers. "I forgot, sorry." I apologized, choosing to ignore that Liam's clothes were scattered all over the floor. The last thing I needed to worry about was his balls on my sheets.
Liam sighed, turning on his side so he could watch me scurry about the room. "It's fine, I get that you have more important things to do." He said with another sigh.
"Thank goodness you understand." I replied sarcastically, dropping my notebook onto my desk and pulling my shirt over my head.
"You're getting changed again?" Liam asked in disbelief. "That's such a waste of a shirt. Are you shitting laundry detergent or something? Because that stuff ain't cheap."
"There's no shame in wanting to look nice, asshole."
"Well, yeah, but that shirt was fine. Jesus you talked to this guy for what, half an hour last night, and you're this paranoid?" Liam asked again in that same disbelief. "Just how great is this guy?"
"Well it was more like ten minutes and, you know... Pretty great." I informed him, spraying some deodorant under my arms and across my chest before throwing on a white and black checkered shirt, buttoning it up as fast as I could.
"Jeez... I'm staying out of this. This is some John Green shit."
"Good. I never wanted your input anyway." I barked, running my hands down the fabric to straighten out the creases. "Anyway, how long do you plan on staying in here? Not to be rude, but... I hate my room smelling of anyone's balls but my own."
"I'll be gone before you get back, don't worry." Liam scoffed. "If you get back." I smirked at Liam's comment, checking I had my phone and wallet in my pockets before heading towards the door again.
"Yeah, well, regardless of that - I want you gone. And take a shower, Liam." I told him, scrunching my nose as I passed him again on the way out. "In your own shower!" I yelled through the door after I'd closed it, travelling down the corridor to the vending machine again.
