These were the things I knew about Dosu Michael after four long months of sharing a room with him. Four exhausting, frustrating months. It was a wonder I hadn't lost my mind.
He woke up at five-thirty every morning without an alarm. Somehow, that meant everyone else woke up too. I couldn't count how many times I'd been dragged out of sleep because of him. One night, the noise was so bad it felt like it was drilling into my ears.
He also had a habit of leaving his shoes wherever he stopped walking. I'd tripped over them in the dark more times than I could remember, at least eleven. I swear, this wasn't an exaggeration. And the idiot never apologized. Not once. It was like saying sorry didn't exist in his world.
He never replaced anything in the room, not even tissue. It was annoying. Really annoying.
Dosu also had strong opinions about music no one asked for. He always had something to say about what I listened to, like I cared. I didn't.
He laughed at things that weren't funny. He took up too much space, like every room belonged to him. And he touched my things, not in an obvious way, but I could tell.
I lost count of how many times my water bottle ended up on his side of the room. Whenever I complained, he didn't even bother to hand it back. He kicked it. Kick!
He did small things. Small, stupid things that made me feel crazy whenever I tried to explain them. How did you tell someone you just knew they were doing it on purpose?
James once called me paranoid. Maybe I was. But none of them had lived with Dosu Michael. I knew I was in trouble the day I walked in and saw his things already spread out.
I thought about taking John's advice and labeling my stuff. It might make me look like a kid, but at that point, I didn't care. If it helped, it helped. Though I wasn't even sure it would.
The truth was, Dosu did all this because he knew it bothered me. I tried not to show it, but there was only so much I could take.
What I hated most was the way he stood there when I brought things up. That blank look on his face, like I was the crazy one. Then he'd say something like, I didn't touch your stuff, man. Relax. And it made me want to lose my mind.
So yes, I knew a lot about Dosu Michael. I just wished I didn't.
Which was why, on that Tuesday, I was surprised by how far he went.
Two weeks earlier, Principal Reeves had given us an assessment worth eighty percent. Since then, my friends and I had spent every free hour working on our portfolios. It was much harder than it sounded.
If we weren't making color-coded tabs or drawing labeled diagrams, we were putting together a full injury prevention plan for a made-up athlete with an ACL injury history, complete with proper references.
I had never worked this hard on anything in my life. And that was saying something, because back in high school, I once spent six hours making a study guide for an exam I still failed. Ellie teased me about it for months. She told me to take a break, and I told her she was the one who would fail.
I really needed this grade. I couldn't afford to mess it up. If I did, my parents would think I wasn't doing well in school. The last thing I wanted was for them to show up and prove Dosu right about me being a boy child.
It wasn't until after afternoon class that I realized I had left my submission on my desk. I wanted to pull my hair out. I had stayed up so late working on it, only to forget it?
Before the next class started, I told my friends I'd be back. I was running up the stairs like I had long legs, like Mr. Elastic or something. I pulled the knob, and to my pleasure, he wasn't there.
Relief washed over me like rain on all the stress I'd been battling all morning. Thank goodness I brought my key. But as soon as I stepped through the door, I knew I was going to go mad for sure.
I paused for a moment, staring at my desk like it was some antique. The file wasn't there. What the hell? It was there this morning. I placed it there myself while I was arranging my backpack, and somehow… just somehow, I had forgotten to carry it, and now it was missing?
My chest tightened, and alarm bells rang in my head. Of course the universe would choose now to make me lose my mind. On a Tuesday morning. I mean, there were many times to go mad, but right now? When I had an assessment to submit?
I ran up the stairs like I was being chased. My hand grabbed the knob, and to my relief, he wasn't there.
Relief settled over me, easing the stress that had been building all morning. At least I had my key. But the moment I stepped into the room, I knew something was wrong.
I stopped and stared at my desk.
The file wasn't there.
What?
It had been there that morning. I remembered placing it there while packing my bag. I had forgotten to take it, yes but now it was gone?
My chest tightened. Panic rushed in all at once. Of course this would happen now. Of all times, it had to be today. On a Tuesday morning. Right when I had an assessment to submit.
Then started the insane search. I was sweating through my hoodie as I checked the desk twice. I checked under it, above it and I even Checked my bag even though I know I didn't put it in my bag. I pull the drawer open. I look behind my textbooks. I get on my knees and check under the bed because maybe it fell somehow, maybe I'm losing my mind but it's not there.
By the time I sat back on my heels, I realized I was breathing too loud. I pressed my fist to my forehead. Where the hell was this file? It was right there this morning. The last memory I had of it was on this desk. It had to be here. It was supposed to be here, and now class would start any minute, and I wouldn't have anything to submit, and I would get an F.
A name reared its head in my mind. Dosu. It had to be him. Yes, he wasn't in the room when I left for class that morning, but he must have come back after, maybe to rest before another class. He did that all the time, taking breaks a lot.
My heart beat against my throat, pumping blood into my head until I was seeing red. It couldn't be him. It just couldn't. Yes, Dosu was an egotistical jerk who caused a scene everywhere he went, leeching attention without a care for anyone but himself, always trying to pick fights with me, but he wouldn't dare touch something as important as my file. We'd never sabotaged each other when it came to school, and he wouldn't go that far. What would he even do with my file?
Rage swelled in my chest. Could it be him? He wouldn't… he wouldn't dare… he would never be so…oh, fuck, he would. It was Dosu.
That bastard.
I didn't know when my legs started moving again, doing that thing where they went without telling me. I stormed down the stairs, out of the dorm, and across the campus grounds, pushing past people who were walking too slow.
I don't know if I was allowed to enter the campus gym with no card or something, but I stormed in anyway, slipping past the receptionist by the glass door. I knew he was here. He was always here in the afternoon. The gym was a big and white building, filled with all kinds of departments with funny looking equipments, and surprisingly crowded. I hadn't expected this many students, but I spotted some older guys too, old enough to be my father so maybe lecturers.
Dosu was doing pull-ups when I spotted him across the room, back turned to me. He was completely shirtless, his wet singlet slung over his arm, sweating like he'd burned all the energy just walking here. My mouth opened before I realized I'd been staring, frozen. He was so ripped from the back, his feet curling over each other as he went up and down, muscles moving almost on their own. A sharp line ran down his spine. God, I barely had enough muscles to look aesthetic, and here he was, so packed he almost looked like the Hulk.
I shook my head and approached him. The moment he saw me, he paused on the bar, still holding himself up but groaning under the weight.
I forced myself to stop staring at a guy's muscles. Just because I didn't have any didn't mean I had to gawk. "Where is it?"
He went down and up again, face sparkling with sweat, giving me almost no expression.
"Where is it," I repeated.
This time he dropped from the bar, landing so easily it was like the guys around should've clapped for him.
"Where's what, Eli?"
"My portfolio."
"How am I supposed to know that?"
"Look, Dosu. I don't have time for this. Funny, huh? Now give it back. It's a clear folder on my desk. Where is it?"
He reached for his water bottle and took a long, slow drink. "I don't know what you're talking about."
The calm of it made something behind my eyes start to throb. "Dosu."
"I didn't touch your stuff."
"So who did?" My voice came out higher than I meant it to. There were people in the gym. I saw the guy on the treadmill glancing over, and I was sure those girls by the free weights were listening. I didn't care. "It was on my desk, dude. Right there. And now it's not. I don't share a room with anyone else, so what gives?"
He rolled his eyes, amusement dancing across his sharp features. "Maybe you moved it? I mean, how is that even my problem? If you misplaced anything, I'm not going to storm into your class to look for you."
"I didn't move it, and I would never take any of your stuff." Like I want to touch his things.
"Okay and now that I have told you it wasn't me, why are you still accusing me? Wait, did you come here to ask if I saw it or to accuse me?"
The throb behind my eyes was getting worse. I gritted my teeth as I inched closer. "That portfolio is due at two. I don't have time for this. Without it, my grade is going to tank, and I can't—"
I stopped and heard myself. God, I sounded so pathetic and desperate. "Just give it back. Enough of this game."
"I didn't take it. And this is embarrassing, you storming in here. There's my bag. Look at it if you want." Her voice dripped with bewildered insult.
My phone beeped loudly, but I ignored it. It was probably James or John telling me to rush back to class, but they didn't understand there was no rushing. I had nothing to submit.
I gave him a look, walked to the bag on the floor beside the bar, and picked it up. I held it like it was a dirty napkin, just to tick him off, and smirked when I saw his face fall into a stern expression. Now what happened to Mr. Macho who knew how to get on everyone's nerves?
His bag was almost empty. Not a book or a file but nothing. Just a pair of red socks lying there. Some of my anger loosened enough for me to think clearly. Maybe I was wrong about this. But either way, there was no turning back now. I had already accused him.
"Why bother with the bag?" I asked, frowning.
He shrugged. "That's my business. Are you done now?"
My phone started beeping like crazy in my pocket, and I was almost forced to whip it out and throw it against the gym walls.
I flung the bag on the floor, far from where I had picked it up, and sighed, not taking my eyes off him. "I just know you have something to do with it, and I swear, if I found out it was you who touched my file, you'd hate yourself."
"Yeah, right." He turned, gesturing to the door. His voice carried that tone like he was trying to hide the faint irritation in his words. "Now, get out."
"Fuck you," I muttered, flouncing out.
My phone beeped again. In the farthest part of the hallway, I stopped and pulled it out.
The screen was flashing. Ten new notifications and three missed calls from John. My pulse quickened.
I squinted at it for a minute. Then I read James's texts:
holy shit.
Eli!
Holy fucking shit!!!!!! I checked your bag for you and found your file inside a textbook.
How didn't you see the edges when you opened the bag?
PLS GET ON YOUR PHONE
asdfghjkklkll
Boy, the professor is in class. What the actual HELL
I was seeing red again.
Now I was sure Dosu and I are never going to be friends. Not after the stunt I just pulled.