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My phone started ringing inside the dorm, so Owen waved and hurried back down the hallway. The girls coming in and out of their dorms looked at him oddly, but dismissed him as he hurried out.
“Was that Professor Sexy Pants?” came a voice right beside me.
I jumped, pressing my hand to my chest as my head whipped around. Clea stood there with wide eyes and her keys in her hands.
“Where did you come from?” I rushed out.
She just blinked at me, then at where Owen had disappeared.
“What was he doing here?” she demanded in a harsh whisper.
“We just had to go over a couple things,” I blurted.
Clea grabbed my arm and dragged me into the room, shoving the door closed behind us.
“Seriously, what are you doing, Mia? I thought you were going to hump and dump him!”
The phrase was jarring coming out of her mouth.
“Excuse me?” I demanded. “I never said any such thing.”
“Mia, this has to end. You know that. You can’t keep up with this guy. He’s like, forty years older than you. You gotta end this before you get too involved.”
“Yeah, well it’s too late for that,” I bit out. “We’re moving in together after the end of the semester. So, in January we’ll be a real couple.”
“So what, he came here so you guys could bang while I was gone? What would you have done if I came back sooner?”
“No! We didn’t do anything like that—”
“Oh right. Like I haven’t seen you waddling in the door more times than I can count.”
“That has nothing to do with this.”
Clea stomped over to her desk and grabbed her purse, then stopped in the bathroom to get her toothbrush.
“I’m staying at Howard’s place tonight. Don’t do anything on my bed.”
With that, she stormed out of the door and left me in silence.
My phone rang again and I turned, looking at the device that had my brother’s picture on the screen.
I ran my hands over my eyes, trying to sort out the hurricane of emotions running through me before talking to Patrick. Who was I kidding though? It was going to take a lot more than five minutes to sort myself out.
Grabbing at the phone, I got it just before it stopped ringing.
“Hey Patrick,” I sighed into the phone.
“So, Mom and Dad seem upset,” was his greeting.
“Yeah.”
“You also left instead of staying the weekend, so I assume it didn’t go so well.”
“You would assume correctly. They weren't happy at all.”
“You didn't expect it to go any differently though,” he reminded. “You knew they were going to be pissed.”
“Doesn’t mean it still doesn’t hurt.”
