Array
(
[text] =>

My head snaps to the dorm door as I hear a keycard being inserted into the panel. I'm immediately nervous because I have nowhere to be but don't want to be stuck in this room with Vic all day.

"I don't know, Mike, I didn't get a great look at them." Vic snaps sarcastically as he opens the door.

I notice he's holding a phone to his ear.

He comes into the room and closes the door and then heads over to his bed. He sits down on it and takes his cap off so he can run his fingers through his hair.

"He said they were Gucci." he sighs.

I feel awkward and uncomfortable. I don't know if I should be leaving the room or not? What if this is a private conversation? What if he doesn't know I'm in the room?

"I don't even know if he was talking about shoes." Vic huffs frustrated.

My ears perk up at the chance to be helpful.

"Um," I say to get Vic's attention. "They were shoes."

My words come out quiet but Vic seems to hear them.

"My roommate just told me they were shoes." he says into the phone.

He begins to chew on his bottom lip, seeming stressed as he listens to the other person talk.

"Sorry, what?" he snaps suddenly, seeming surprised. "Did you just say $200 to $3000?"

I flinch at the numbers.

"They're fucking shoes!" Vic exclaims, visibly getting even more upset. "Ugh, I don't know, Mike! I couldn't fucking see them!"

He pulls the phone from his ear and turns his head towards me.

"Kellin, did you see what the shoes looked like?" he asks hopefully.

"Yeah," I say, feeling a little excited that I can be useful. "They were mostly white, with a bit of green on them and they had bees embroided on them."

Vic repeats my description back to Mike on the phone and waits for a response.

"Did they have green on the heel?" Vic asks.

I nod, once again forgetting he can't see me.

"Yeah, they did."

"Yep," Vic chirps into the phone. "You found them? What are the chances they're $200?...Did you just say...Like dollars?...USD?...Freddie Mercury himself better have worn those fucking shoes."

That makes me smile because that means Vic likes Queen, and I like Queen, which means that we have something in common. He may have been a dick earlier, but at least he has great music taste.

"Yeah, any bright ideas?" Vic snaps, then his entire demeanour softens. "I know. I'm sorry. I've been snapping at people all day. I'm just stressed...Yeah...I'll work something out...Thanks, bro...I love you...Tell Mama and Pops I said hey."

And then he finally puts down his phone.

He falls down on his bed dramatically. His shades shift but he quickly pushes them back to their place.

"Seven hundred and thirty dollars." Vic breathe out slowly, emphasising each word.

I near choke as he says it.

"What? You're fucking kidding!" I exclaim shocked.

"I know right!" Vic whines. "Who buys shoes that expensive and then has the audacity to wear them?"

I feel bad for Vic because it wasn't his fault. They were dicking around. They should have been watching where they were going.

"He's probably going to expect me to replace them." Vic groans.

"What a piece of shit." I mutter. "I'm assuming you can't afford it."

"Nope. I couldn't even afford to replace them if they were the two hundred dollar ones. I'm here on a scholarship." he sighs.

We fall silent after that.

I'm extremely relieved that Vic and I are talking and he doesn't seem to be mad at me. It's ceased a lot of my worrying.

"I'm sorry he punched you. And I'm sorry I was a dick about it." Vic murmurs.

"It's okay." I smile softly.

"It's not. You were nothing but nice to me and you didn't have to do that. Thank you." he sighs.

"Well I wasn't just going to stand there and let him punch you." I chuckle.

"Does it hurt?" he frowns seeming worried.

"A little." I admit. "But I've had an ice-pack on it all day so it should heal quickly."

"Well, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you, let me know." he says quietly.

"Can I ask you something?" I blurt out. "It might be a little ignorant."

"Sure, ask away. I'd rather people ask than just make assumptions." he says.

"Why don't you walk with a cane?" I question. "You have one. But I've never seen you use it."

He looks stressed by the question and rubs his temple softly.

"I hate it. It's embarrassing." he shrugs.

"But don't you need it?" I frown confused.

"I do okay without it. There are moments when I walk into people, spill their coffee everywhere and ruin their seven hundred dollar shoes. But I do mostly fine." he chuckles.

I want to ask Vic more questions about his blindness but I feel like it'd be rude. I'm sure he gets it a lot. I'm sure he's tired of questions.

I watch him sit up and look to me, well, slightly to my left.

"Can I ask you something? It's going to sound weird and you can say no." he questions.

"Um, sure." I say hesitantly.

He adjusts his head so he's directly facing me once I speak.

"Can I, like, touch your face? I know it's weird, but I can get a rough idea of what you look like. And if we're going to he roommates I might as well know what you look like." he rambles.

"Oh!" I agree surprised. "Oh sure. Um, I'll come to you."

I get off my bed and then go sit next to Vic on his bed. It's weird and nerve wracking sitting next to him.

He smells like deodorant and his muscular arms seem to be flexing, or maybe they're just always like that. Now that I'm up close, I can see stubble on his face that can't have been there for more than a day or two. Each and every handsome feature he has is just more defined and attractive up close. Vic is practically oozing masculinity and it's borderline killing me.

He lifts his hand, slowly with hesitance and holds it in the air in front of my face.

I wait for him to do something but he doesn't, so I take his hand gently, and slowly move it to my cheek.

He immediately lets out a small chuckle.

"What?" I ask self consciously.

"Your cheek is cold, from the ice-pack." he grins.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I blush. Oh god, why am I blushing?

"Don't be sorry. It just caught me by surprise."

His thumb then runs over my cheek and then he brings his other hand up my other cheek. I try not to flinch as his palm touches my scar. His rough fingers, find my jaw and run all the way down until each hand meets at my chin.

I watch him as he runs his fingers over my chin as if it's this really distinct, defined thing.

His face is closer to mine than it's ever been and it makes me think about kissing. It doesn't help that, Vic's now running his thumb over my bottom lip.

He looks concentrated though, not at all like he's thinking about kissing. I try to look through his shades at his eyes but they're completely blacked out.

Vic's fingers move over my face, slowly with precision and I will my mind away from homosexual thoughts.

"You're kind of pretty, aren't you?" he chuckles softly, his fingers running down my nose.

I immediately find myself blushing again. 

"What makes you think that?"I murmur shyly.

"I can just tell. By the proportions of your features and your skin feels really soft and clear. Do you have freckles?" he asks.

"No, I have a few light beauty spots though." I grin, still flattered that he thinks I'm pretty.

"What's your skin tone like?" He asks.

"I'm really pale." I explain.

"Color of your eyes?" he asks.

"Bluey-green." I chirp.

"What color is your hair?" he questions, running his fingers through my hair.

I can't help but to enjoy the feeling. Brandon used to play with my hair all the time. It was always really calming.

"It's between black and brown at the moment. I dye it." I reply.

"Cute!" Vic grins.

But that grin falters as soon as his fingers run move to below my eye. He follows my scar with his fingertips all the way to my jaw, making me recoil inside.

"Is this from earlier?" he asks seeming worried.

"Uh, no." I sigh softly, taking his hand and removing it from my face. "It's a scar."

He frowns and seems thoughtful for a second then he smiles.

"Well, I look forward to rooming with you, Kellin." he chirps.

"You too." I beam, stoked that my roommate actually isn't an asshole. "What's your major?"

"Music composition. What about you?" he asks seeming interest, like generally interested.

"Illustration." I answer.

"Ah, of course." he smirks.

"What?" I ask confused.

"You're an art student. All art students are pretty. It's a fact." he smirks.

"Are you hitting on me?" I blurt out without even thinking about it.

Vic immediately looks annoyed.

"Oh, you're one of those." he mumbles.

"One of what?" I frown.

"You're one of those guys that thinks just because I'm gay, I must be hitting on you." he mutters.

"No!" I exclaim immediately. I open my mouth to tell him that I'm not one of those guys because I'm also gay. But the words won't come out of my mouth.

"No, I'm not one of those guys. I'm sorry." I say awkwardly.

Vic doesn't seem to believe me but thankfully my phone rings, creating a gateway out of this awkward moment.

I take my phone out and see Sam's name and face on my screen. I wasn't expecting it to be anyone else.

"Do you mind if I take this?" I ask Vic, trying not to be rude.

"Not at all." he chirps.

I get up and walk over to the door as I answer the call.

"Hey, what's up?" I chirp, leaving the dorm room and standing outside the door.

"You got punched?" Samantha screeches.

I had almost forgot.

"Oh, yeah, it's not a big deal." I tell her, hoping she doesn't overreact.

"Not a big deal? Who fucking punched you? I'm going to beat the crap out of them." she hisses.

So much for not overreacting.

"Sammie, it's okay. He was just an asshole. I was sticking up for my roommate." I explain.

"It's not okay! Some fucker punched my baby brother." she hisses.

"Sam, you're only four years older than me." I point out, something that I always point out when she calls me her 'baby brother'. "Anyway, how did you know?"

"Word travels fast around here." she sighs. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I assure her.

"Okay, good. You didn't text me last night. I'm assuming your roommate is hideously deformed." she says and I roll my eyes.

"I mean, he's not hideous." I murmur shyly.

"‘Not hideous’ like average looking? Or ‘not hideous’ like really fucking hot?" she pries.

I stay silent and bite my lip softly.

"Kellin, it's okay to be attracted to him." She says softly.

"I know!" I snap, then I take a deep breath to calm myself. "I know. H-he is attractive. I am attracted to him. He also thinks I'm a homophobe."

"Well, you kind of are, Kells." Samantha snorts.

I roll my eyes again at her words.

"You should ask him on a date!" Sam chirps.

"What? No! I like just met him! And I told you, I don't want a boyfriend!" I snap.

Some guy walks past and side-eyes me. I blush embarrassed and shrink a little into myself.

"Kellin, bub, I was joking." she says softly. "You okay? You're a little high strung lately. I'm worried you're going backwards."

I take a deep breath and push back tears that are fighting to fill my eyes.

"I told you I didn't want to stay on campus." I whisper. "It's overwhelming."

She sighs deeply then pauses for a minute.

"If you still hate it by the end of the month then I'll find us an apartment, okay?" she suggests.

I can hear the disappointment in her voice. I know she loves living on campus and I can't really live by myself.

"Thanks Sam." I whisper gratefully.

"No problem, Kells. I've gotta go. I have ass to kick. What did he look like?" she asks.

"Bye Sam." I grin.

"Bye Kells." she giggles and then I hang up.

I slip my phone into my pocket but at that moment, I hear a familiar laugh. I look up to see Brandon talking to some guy in a doorway. He has yet to see me so I quickly go back into my dorm.

Man, I can't wait for the month to be up.

[text_hash] => 2eb52093
)