Setting her box on the counter, I suggest she look around. “Want a tour?”
“Please,” she says, walking over to the sink and peering through the crystal clear window. “I would love that.”
“Want me to show you around, or do you want to go have a look while I bring the rest of the boxes in?”
“Oh! Yes, let me help you with—”
I hold my hand out to stop her objection. “No, no. You stay here and have a look about, and I’ll grab what’s left. You have only seven more, I’ve got it easily.”
“If you’re sure…? You’ve done so much already.”
I’ve done nothing, and it’s for my own selfish reasons.
I’m sick of being here on my own, lonely and bored, drowning in the silence day in and day out, night after night after night. It’s time I had someone here with me—it might as well be her.
Besides…
She’s cute and I have a crush on her.
There are worse people I could have asked to move in here, namely every single mate I’ve made since being here.
Eliza disappears into the room off the kitchen, a den where the telly hangs on the wall, the room dimly lit and used as my cinema room, to watch my sports and movies. It’s where I spend most of my time when I’m not sleeping.
Bougie, I know.
I bring her boxes to her room, conveniently located at the top of the stairs to the left and down the hall from my own bedroom. Set them against the back wall, beside the desk that is now hers to use for the remainder of the year.
There’s also a queen-size bed, her own bathroom, and plenty of room for her to spread out. I saw her room at her last place and this is twice the size, so I gather she will be perfectly content.
She wanders into the bedroom as I set the last box on top of a pile of three.
“Well, what do you think? Will it do?”
“Are you being serious right now?” She twirls with her arms spread out before she throws herself on the mattress. It bounces beneath her weight and she sighs, contently staring up at the ceiling. “This is amazing. I mean it sucks that I was kicked out of my house because I still have to deal with Kaylee and that fallout, but there are worse things than living in this beautiful house. Someone pinch me.”
“Do you want me to pinch you, or is that a figure of speech?”
She laughs. “It’s a figure of speech, you goofball.”
I stand and watch her awkwardly, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans, wondering if it’s weird that I’m still in the room while she lies on her bed, gazing at the ceiling.
“Welp, I’ll let you get situated…” I make toward the door. “What do you want to do for dinner?”
Eliza sits up, resting on her elbows. “I don’t know, what do you want for dinner? It feels so weird discussing it with you!” She giggles.
Tell me about it. “I’ve never lived with a female before, if you don’t count Mum, so…I may be shite at it. We’ll find out.”
“Do you cook?”
“Yes.” Obviously. I practically raised myself.
“Why don’t I order us something for delivery, and then when it gets here, I’ll stop unpacking and we can eat?”
“Eat and watch a movie? The new Marvel is OnDemand, we can rent it.”
She gasps. “I would love that!” Her little self squeals. “Oh my gosh, this is going to be so fun. No one ever wants to watch movies with me.” Her mobile is out and she’s scrolling. “Pizza? Pasta?” Her fingers move along her mobile screen.
“How about pizza and pasta? I fancy some garlic bread as well, let’s make this a carbo-load.”
One of her brows rises. “Do you have a game tomorrow?”
“Yes, unfortunately.” I groan, not thankful for the reminder. “Not that I need the carbs, but they’ll drown out my misery. Maybe I’ll choke on a noodle and die, then I won’t have to show up for the match.”
She laughs, still scrolling away. “You should hear yourself. My god, just be done with it already. No one is going to judge you for it.” Her eyes find mine. “In fact, they’ll thank you for it considering you suck so bad.”
“Hey! Only I can say I suck.”
“I’m just quoting you. But I am also judging you, just a little.” She holds her fingers out, spreading her thumb and forefinger. “’Bout this much. Teensy bit.”
“I’m closing your door now. Goodbye!”
Her laughter follows me down the hall and I find myself smiling despite myself and the topic of discussion. She’s right of course—I really should figure out what I’m going to do about the rugby team. At some point or another, Coach is going to either kick me off the team or make me the water boy, neither of which are fun options. Humiliating, rather.