Roomie Wars Box Set

Drew. All Drew.

It became more and more clear that all along, Drew looked out for me. He had my back.

I’m desperate to call him, yet my insecurity is getting the better of me. He did all those things for me as a good friend. Not as someone interested in being my boyfriend.

On Wednesday night, he sends me a text. I almost fall off the couch when I see his name on the screen, beyond excited and nervous.

Drew: Don’t forget to water the plants.

The text alone is boring and uneventful. Usually, he adds something fun, just to rile me up. I can’t blame him. I’ve ruined things between us—lost that spark or whatever it was that made our relationship special.

Zoey: We have plants? Relax, control freak. Your precious plants are still GREEN.

He never responds. On Thursday night, he sends me another uneventful text.

Drew: It’s bin night. Don’t forget to take out the trash.

Again, I respond to him trying to goad some sort of reaction.

Zoey: Does that include the hussy that’s been banging on our door every night asking for you?

I manage to laugh at my joke. Lying in bed, thinking that if a hussy was banging on our door, I would get all kung-fu on her ass. Cue the jealousy, Zoey. I wait for his response, picking up my Kindle and trying to lose myself in a stepbrother romance that’s the latest craze in the book world. I find it hard to get into given every few seconds, my eyes glance to the screen of my cell. Then, I hear a bubble sound and drop the Kindle, picking up my cell, waiting in anticipation.

Drew: Funny.

That’s it? Funny? I’m starting to get annoyed and I type fast, knowing his phone will be near him.

Zoey: What are you up to? I’m reading a stepbrother romance. Do you think it’s weird that the stepbrother and stepsister do it in the house and the parents have no clue? Sure, you can block the noise, but what about the smell?

The bubble teases me again, and unwillingly, I find my legs twitching and waiting impatiently for him to respond.

Drew: Sex doesn’t have a smell, Zoey.

And he calls himself a doctor?

I type quickly.

Zoey: Yes, it does. It’s a combination of sweat, heat, and something I can’t put my finger on.

He quickly responds.

Drew: Cum?

I immediately blush with him using that word. Why? I have no idea. My palms begin to sweat, and suddenly the room is stifling hot.

Removing my shirt, I lie in bed wearing only my tank and shorts.

Zoey: Uh… sure? I don’t know, but your room reeks of it.

A witty response that’s sure to fire him up.

Drew: Stay out of my room, Zoey.

I can tell he’s trying his best not to encourage my immature behavior, but I have to admit, this is fun. Just like in high school when you’d pass notes in

class hoping it would make it to the back of the room and into the hands of your crush.

Mine made it halfway into the hands of Cindy Matthews. Word on the street is that she’s now a lesbian. I often wonder if it had anything to do with my note.