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“Don’t take the opportunity to put your Justin Bieber posters there either,” he mocks.
I smirk.
He can’t help it.
“What, you’re afraid of being infected with Bieber fever?”
He laughs and I ignore the shivers on my arms seeing his perfect mouth move in a smile that only he knows the secret to. A pout that would be able to cause a pileup on Interstate 95 in Massachusetts. Anyway, in my body, it’s quite a mess. Especially knowing which room Nolan occupies. The only one adjoins to mine…behind my headboard.
“Just kidding, Scar,” he says. “It’s good to see you again, you haven’t changed. You’re still as annoying as ever! It’s going to be fun this year!”
It’s not until I turn to face him that I realize he came closer to me. Only a few centimeters away, I almost bumped against his chest. And since that wasn’t enough, one of his hands comes to rest on top of my head and ruffles my hair. Like I was a kid he was teasing. Or a small dog.
I push him away quickly and he laughs.
“Get out of my room, Nolan!”
“Jones, are you pissing off my sister again?”
Edgar enters the room with one of my boxes, followed closely by Leo, the fourth and last member of the house. They place my remaining belongings on the floor, near those already piled up against one of the walls. I shift, putting a good distance between Nolan and me, and quickly brush my hair with my fingertips to flatten it.
“I think we’re good, everything’s up,” says Leo.
“It’s nice of you to help me anyway. And let me stay with you.”
“It’s nice to have you back,” Leo said with a sincere smile.
OK, so it’s only Nolan who’s pissed off!
After taking a last look around the guys file out of my room, leaving me alone. I collapse on my bed as soon as my door slams and sigh for a long moment, my eyes glued to the ceiling and my nostrils still impregnated with a familiar smell.
I’m back.
2
Nolan
Scarlett comes out of the room a good hour later, and I imagine she’s spent her time unpacking her boxes of thirty pounds each.
According to the label, in one of them there were no less than thirty books. Books!
I remember she loved to read in the backyard when we were in high school. Mostly cheesy romance novels she would read at least ten times. Apparently, she took them all to college. I doubt they were very useful, but I don’t try too hard to understand how Scarlett Martin’s ultra-complicated brain works.
I especially like to piss her off, because she gets angry very easily and it really makes me laugh. She has this way of pissing me off, pushing me away like I’m some old, expired gum. To say I’m glad she’s back is an understatement. I missed her, that’s for sure. But seeing her show up in the apartment? Not too thrilled! The reason is very simple: it will break the dynamic of the group. Why? Because adding a girl to an apartment of three guys is a bad thing. Even if this girl is asexual in our eyes. We have never accepted girls as our roommates. Matter of principle, but Edgar insisted, and I admit that I finally fell for it becauseit’sScar. Our little sister, the boring, whiny blonde who wore braces for half of her schooling. The kid who spent her time screwing up my flirting attempts at parties and who had fun making all the chicks who approached us believe that we were gay.
I must say that we paid her back rather well. Even though Meredith and Arthur, her parents, have always been very open-minded, we often had fun scaring away the guys she wanted to go out with. A one hand washes the other.
When I saw her arrive in the living room with her red leggings and an old sweater from the high school where wewere all enrolled, I smile at the memories it brings back. When she was with us, the guys had a hard time making their way through. It was funny to see how much it annoyed her that we were intruding on her private life like that. Still, she dated a guy in the first year of college. Evan Teryl. The guys and I didn’t like him very much. He was too cocky and loved to hear himself talk. I guess she must have broken up with him before leaving for Paris. In any case, she hasn’t mentioned it since.
“How about pizza tonight?”
Edgar comes out of the kitchen with two large frozen pizzas, wrapped in their original boxes. I sit on the couch, turning my head to take a look at what he’s holding in his hands.
“What’s left for toppings?” Leo asks before I can.
“Bolo and BBQ. Scar, what do you say?”
“I’m fine with that.”
