The room without number
I can't even remember how I walked out of the lecture hall after all that. My legs moved without my mind catching up on what I'm doing. All I can remember is his calm commands that refused to be disobeyed, his smirk that got me shivering down my spine, the echo in his voice when he was announcing the whole class, asking myself in curiosity "why is his room the only one without number?" "Why did he say before dinner? Is he trying to make me cook for him?"
There are so many ways for me to refuse. I could have told myself it is not compulsory, but my mind was not even thinking of not going. All I can think of is what is going to happen there.
As i walked in to my hostel, the rumors had spread everywhere, countless whispers and fingers pointing towards me that, but I didn't even bother with them because my mind was elsewhere. I was walking up the stairs fragile and weak, like I was being pulled by something stronger than me.
The moment I walked into the room, my roommates turned to look at me. I should have expected it. They had been waiting, curious and restless. "So what did he tell you?" One of them asked, with interest narrowing in her eyes.
"Nothing serious" I said quickly and pretended to be busy with my locker, dropping my bag and fumbling for books I didn't even plan to read.
"Nothing serious?" another voice echoed with a grin on her face. Then why did he kneel to talk to you
They were all staring at me now, eager and impatient, trying to drag words out of my mouth. They sounded teasing, demanding just to get a hint.
I smiled and shook less than I intended to because it was fake "you people should calm down. It's not what you think it is, I just need to freshen up and go study so please let me be" i said with another fake smile.
"Study?" Are you dressing up like this just to go and study? One of them raised a brow.
Her words hit hard because they were true, I was already pulling my best dresses I feel confident in. My hands won't stop moving as if my body has made the decision before my brain caught up.
I ignored them again and let them whisper, their voices faded into the background as I locked myself in the bathroom.
The cold water ran over my body but couldn't wash away the thoughts in my head or even cool down the heat inside me, the thoughts were restless roaming around in circles "why am i doing this?,why am i preparing like i want to impress him, it's just a visit".
But the more I tried to reason it out, the more I felt helpless and desperate to go. I couldn't stop thinking about the way his eyes rested on me, the way he commands, the echo in his voice, that's the first time I felt like someone had spoken to me in a language deeper than words.
When I came out I stood in front of the mirror longer than I usually do. Studying myself wondering what might have led rogers to me
"Is it the eyes?" Or is it the dimples?" In my inner thoughts, I brushed my hair twice and tucked it in the back of my ear, and applied lip gloss not too bright but enough to keep me from looking plain.
All the time, my heart refuses to rest or slow down.
By the time I came out of the bathroom, they were watching me, their eyes followed my movements, their mouths pressing into smiles they were struggling to hide.
" I'll be at the library" I lied, forcing my voice and facial expression to be casual.
They didn't believe me,I could tell, but I quickly walked out of the room before they could throw another question at me.
The air outside felt heavier than usual, maybe because I knew exactly where I was going, my footsteps were trembling, almost impatient, carrying me out of the female hostel compound and directly towards the male hostel block.
When I entered the male hostel, I immediately regretted it. The loud voices, the crowd, the way they sprawled in groups along the corridor, it felt like walking into the market and i was the only item on display.
As soon as they saw me,the noise rose even higher.
The laughter and mocking were heavy, bouncing off the walls of the hostel. My feet faltered on the steps, my palms clammy, but I didn't turn back. I kept climbing, though my chest was pounding.
I could feel every stare like a hand dragging across my skin. They were shouting, calling, teasing, and still I went on. Step by step.
But then something strange happened.
The moment I reached the top floor, the noise began to die down. Their laughter broke apart like it was suddenly swallowed by the air. One by one, their voices dropped to murmur until the corridor was silent.
I didn't have to wonder why. The door in front of me told me everything.
Unlike the others, this door had no number. Instead, painted boldly across the wood in neat, dark letters was a name: ROGERS'S EDEN.
It was the only door like that in the entire block. The boys never touched it, never wrote any rubbish on it, never pasted silly notes the way they did with other rooms. The air around it felt different, like a place with rules unspoken but respected by all.
I stood before it, frozen, the silence of the boys behind me pressing hard against my back. My knees trembled, but I raised my hand and knocked.
"Come in" a firm deep voice that sent shivers all across my body. I obeyed and opened the door slowly and went two steps in and stopped.
I don't know why I stopped, maybe because the room itself shocked me.
It didn't look like the other rooms I had seen in the hostel. It looked like a room meant for one person, not two. His roommate's presence was invisible. No scattered clothes, no beds squeezed side by side, no rough shoes lined against the wall.
His bed was neatly made with a plain blue sheet. A shelf of books stood at one corner. The air smelled faintly of cologne, sharp and clean. On the other side is a reading desk big enough to contain some notebooks, a laptop and a big lamp. There was a see-through light curtain on the window with a perfect evening view of the sunset. Right beside the door is a mini-refrigerator and a small dining table for not more than two to three people. The whole place was too organized, too deliberate, almost intimidating.
Before I could gather my thoughts, he moved closer, and grabbed my hands.
"Follow me," he said. His hands on me were firm but gentle, which sent a wave of heat rushing through my body. He led me straight to the reading desk, pulled out the chair slightly, then nodded at it."Sit." I sat, with my books still tight to my chest.
He leaned against the wall opposite to me and folded his arms, "so" what are you reading today?
His presence was so heavy I could feel it without looking up and I said "anatomy" . I whispered with a shaky voice.
"Good" that's my favorite go ahead, he said heading towards his bed behind me.
" So he really asked me to come and study?" asking myself as if I wanted something else to be happening by then.
I tried to focus on the words, the diagrams, the endless lines about cells and tissues. But the letters blurred in front of me.
Because I could hear him behind me, he was typing, scrolling through his phone, breathing steadily, his calmness was a sharp contrast to the storm inside me.
Every simple voice makes me nervous and awake of this presence behind me, his fingers tapping on his phone, the low lum voice when he's reading something made me feel very uncomfortable that I have never felt that has me moving uncomfortably on my seat for no reason.
"Hello", his voice breaks unexpectedly and shatters every piece of attention left in me to pieces " bring my dinner usual for two,..... Yeah to Eden ….. In less than an hour…. Serve it warm", the call ended.
"Did he just order food for two, the both of us, is it why he said I should come before dinner?"
Asking myself in suspense.
I kept on staring harder at my book pretending to read but nothing was going upstairs.
His murmurs and low noises behind me is all I can listen to.
Until suddenly he stood up, I could hear some footsteps around the room and some clothes noises. It felt like he was undressing, but I won't dare to look back.
"I'll be back" he said simply and entered the bathroom. I made sure that he was really undressing then.
After some minutes, there was a low sound of music followed by running water.
I wished I could use that moment to concentrate and study a little but my mind refused to obey. I aimlessly flip the pages in my book but my mind is far from anatomy.
All I can think of are the orders he gave me like he knew I wouldn't resist, the silence from the boys outside when I stopped at his door.
And most of all the amount of privacy we had but he asked me to read instead. I don't know what i was expecting to do in that room, but reading was not one of it.
I sat there imagining and fantasizing what he would look like after a shower with wet hair and a wet steamy body. I just wished I could turn around and look when he came out.
I was waiting with one truth burning me in my heart that I couldn't ignore.
"I couldn't wait to see what will happen next"