I hate surprises. After what I witnessed last night, it's decided that I hate surprises. I'm in PSYC 101, the monotonous voice of the professor droning on about cognitive biases, I try to take notes but my fingers float uselessly over my laptop keys as my eyes drift across the room. I notice short dark hair and I know whose it is. I know it's Tony. Which is weird seeing as he's not the only person in this class with short dark hair. It's strange that I've never noticed him in this class before. I definitely did not notice him last night as well.
He must be really good at fading into backgrounds. Another disturbing thought pops into my head. Luke is queer. What's more disturbing, he's a queer person that hangs around homophobic people. He really must not like himself. What happened last night wasn't just something that drunk people do. Luke was drunk, of course, but this was something he'd done multiple times. There was an affinity in the ordinary way he'd leaned into Tony. He'd practically melted into Tony like it was second nature. And the way Tony looked at him? Yeah they're definitely fucking. The professor's dull voice drones on, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing faintly as if amplifying my thoughts. I'm sure Tony can feel my eyes boring into the back of his head, but before I can do anything about it, he turns abruptly. Our eyes lock and I catch the slight knitting of his brows like he's trying to place me before they lift in surprise. Yeah. I didn't know we shared a class too, buddy. I give him a small and awkward nod and turn away without waiting to see if he returns it. The moment I return my gaze to my laptop screen, a wave of lightheadedness crashes over me and the room spins. The words on my laptop screen shift, the light from the screen pricking my eyes. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, waiting for the dizziness to pass. When I reopen them again, the words on my laptop are still swimming. I try my best to focus on my breathing. Inhale, exhale. It's fine, I'm fine. But-I'm not. Not really. I understand the feeling of hollowness in my stomach is supposed to make me crave food, but it doesn't. It's a quiet emptiness that only shows itself when my body is pushing towards shutdown. I press my fingers to my temple. Fuck. Between yesterday and today, last night is the only time I remember eating. At the bar. I already skipped breakfast and lunch today. It's not like I meant to. I just forgot.... Again. The truth is I know what hunger is supposed to feel like. People talk about it as a gnawing and persistent thing. But it's not that for me. My body doesn't send signals the way it should. There are no hunger pangs, no cravings. Just an eventual crash when my system starts to protest the neglect. Like it's doing now. The professor changes slides and the sound of pen moving against paper fills the hall, serving as a reminder that I should be taking notes. However the thought of doing anything on my laptop sends another wave of dizziness rolling through me. I switch it off and close it, pressing it shut with more force than required. The sound earns a curious glance from Tony, which I avoid with all my might. I debate standing up and walking out but I don't want to risk toppling over. I close my eyes and try to even out my breaths, by focusing on the colorless tone of my professor's tutoring. This goes on for twenty five minutes till the class ends. The vertigo has reduced a bit , but my limbs still feel heavy, tingling with little tremors all over. •*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*• Students make their exit from the lecture hall with a quiet murmur. But not Tony. He makes his way towards me with a steady and unhurried pace as I sit in one of the middle rows of the tiered lecture hall, while my pulse picks up and I have no idea why. "Hey. it's Caleb right, Luke's roommate?" He flashes me a simple smile. Like his cheekbones aren't perfectly sculpted. Like he doesn't have the most beautifully blended green and hazel eyes. As if the close proximity between us is not making my already unstable system more unstable. It's hilarious. "Yeah I am and you're Tony." He nods, his tongue peeking out to wet his upper lip. "Yes. Um.. listen about yesterday..." he starts "Listen, Tony you don't have to apologize for your friends. They're all assholes and bunch of idiots." "Oh! Well I wasn't gonna say that, but, you're correct. They are assholes." A thoughtful pause then "and they're not my friends." He says, voice curling in the air like smoke. I find myself wanting to breathe it in. I almost giggle at the thought. I couldn't be more pathetic even if I tried. Look at me, I'm practically choking on it. I clear my throat "why do you hang with them then? If they're not your friends." He puffs out a breath. "it's complicated." Complicated and weird as hell. "What were you gonna say at first?" He rubs the back of his neck "Luke. He was terribly drunk last night. Did he get sick later on?" "No. He was completely knocked out. Still was when I left the dorm this morning. He's really bad with alcohol." "Yeah. He is" he snorts as he plops himself down on the nearest chair. "He's never taken alcohol before?" "He hates it. I have no idea why he did it yesterday" he explains stretching himself out on the chair like he's preparing to fall asleep. He groans-a sound my brain interprets the wrong way and I feel it all the way from the roots of my hair, to the tip of my fingers, sinking deep in my stomach. But whatever. "I was going to check on him later, but now that you're here, I was thinking we could go back to your dorm together" "Oh! Well, I still have some things I have to do here. I don't think I'll be able to come with you, but that's really nice of you Tony, you're a good friend." I state. Yeah, that's really nice Tony. Luke is really lucky to have you. My inner voice sneers. "Okay. I'll let you be." He rises, dusting off some imaginary dirt from his pants. Looking anywhere but me. "Yeah. I mean it Tony. You're a good friend." I watch as his jaw tightens and the color on his cheeks deepen. "See you around, Caleb" he squeaks and vacates the hall. As soon as he's gone, I let out a slow breath. Good friend. Right.