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“Try and get some rest. I will see you tomorrow.” He moved to the bed and placed a kiss on my forehead.
“Bye.”
He left the room, and I stared into space, lost in my thoughts.
Adrian showedup the next day when I was having breakfast at the dining room. He wore a white T-shirt above his gray sweatpants. He only had two of his large rings on today and one thin gold chain around his neck.
He approached me with a small smile. I wanted to poke his dimples so bad.
“You’re early,” I said.
“I couldn’t wait to see you,” he said, walking behind me and hugging my back.
I inhaled his cologne and fought the smile tugging at my lips.
“How are you?” he asked close to my ear before pulling away.
“Bored.” I frowned.
He brushed his full hair back and took a seat in front of me. He waited for me to finish eating before I went upstairs to get my laptop. We sat on the large sofa with my laptop on my lap while Adrian took the space next to me.
I was lucky to find a few spots in three classes. I had to email the instructors. I signed up for Sociology, Math, and Art. I didn’t know how they offered Math online. I only hoped I could catch up with the lectures.
“Your classes start next week,” Adrian said when we finished.
“Thanks for helping.”
Not like it was anything difficult, but I needed his company.
“It was nothing,” he said, waving it off with his hand.
“I will get some snacks. What drink would you like?”
“Water. I’m not a fan of sugar,” he replied.
I rolled my eyes at his answer.
I went to the kitchen. Morris was out, and Tristan had not left his room today. Morris had taken his breakfast upstairs, and Adrian didn’t seem worried, so I assumed he was okay.
Adrian was laughing uncontrollably when I returned with the snacks. I screamed when I realized what he was watching. I threw the snacks on the couch and grabbed my laptop. I had never felt more embarrassed in my life.
It was the first twerk video I’d made when I was sixteen. It was awful, horrible, and an eyesore. I still didn’t know why I’d kept it. My butt didn’t even shake. I resembled a mother hen in labor.
“Oh my God, was that really you?”
“No.” I gave him a dirty look, clutching the laptop to my chest.
“Can I watch it again?”
“No. And that was an intrusion of my privacy.”
“Sorry,” he apologized, laughter slipping out of his lips.
“Stop laughing,” I groaned.
He nodded, putting on a straight face. It didn’t take five seconds before he started laughing again.
“I hate you.” I threw the snacks at him.
