Cramped Quarters - Love Under Lockdown

“Who’s there?” I called, pausing the video.

“It’s Keira.”

Of course it was. Keira was the only one in the cluster of my housemates brave enough to talk to me, much to the chagrin of everyone else, not least of which was her boyfriend, Matt. He was an absolute gym rat here on a football scholarship. Things could have been even more tense but fortunately that had been nipped in the bud.

It all came to a head a few weeks ago. I could actually feel the music through the wall. My headphones only made so much difference. Matt had bought subwoofers at least partly to vex me. Or at least so I was convinced.

It was the third party that week, and I was beginning to wonder how much longer it would be before someone went to the hospital with alcohol poisoning. Not that I was about to say anything. I’d made that mistake back in high school and had gotten doused in German import beer for my trouble. This time, I decided that since I couldn’t beat them, I’d join them, and at least participate in the party that was making it impossible for me to study.

“Hey.”

I’d turned in the direction of the salutation and found Keira to be standing quite close to me.

“Guten tag,” I said, no idea why.

Making matters worse, I’d thrown up a Devil horns sign.

I hated that I could be so socially awkward sometimes.

“Haven’t seen you at a party before.”

“Haven’t been to one either,” I teased.

“What changed your mind?”

“I got hungry.”

At least that was what I’d planned to say. I’d actually only gotten to the ‘I got hun,’ before the side of my head bounced off the freezer like a squash ball, sending me collapsing to the floor in front of the open fridge.

Most guys would have stayed down, maybe even played dead, assuming they actually still continued to be alive. But us Graves were made of stranger stuff.

Matt hadn’t even turned all the way away before I sprang to my feet and started bouncing in place like a boxer.

“No shit.”

“Only between your ears,” I said, with just enough mustard.

The hit was hard. I went down again, closing the fridge door on the way. As though the world were on instant reply, I got up again, refusing to stay down, Matt already on his way out of the kitchen.

“It’s clear I don’t want you here and yet you’re following me around, begging me for more of a fight. Are you fucking serious?”

“As cancer,” I said, my shirt already stained with my own blood.

I got a good punch in before he retaliated, which ended up not working out so well in his favor. With a sigh of mock regret, Matt threw the hardest haymaker I’d ever seen at me. The sound of crunching bone actually made a couple of the party-goers faint.

Matt screamed like a little girl, cradling his destroyed hand. His bloody knuckle print stood out against the white of the freezer door.

Keira ushered him into the bathroom to tend his wounds. It was possible I’d lost the only friend I’d had there, but knew I Matt would never mess with me again.

“What’s up?” I asked her now.

It was the first time we’d spoken since the fridge incident and I still wasn’t sure where I stood with her and was treading carefully.

“A few of us are going out for drinks and we’re wondering if you would like to come.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Honestly?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m not sure but I just thought I’d ask anyway.”

“Well, I appreciate your honesty. Thanks for thinking of me but I think it’s better if I stay here.”

“Okay.”

I couldn’t help but note the resignation in her voice. It wasn’t the others who wondered if I wanted to come out with them. It was her, and not out of pity either. It was real. I’d seen enough of both to know the difference.

It was sweet of her to care, but I had no desire to go around any of them. I had wanted roommates around but with housemates like these, who needed enemies? Plus, there was news of a pandemic that was spreading and I didn’t want to be going out to bars right now.

The school had sent some emails saying they were looking into possible solutions to keep us socially distant. Part of me wondered if we’d be sent back home, where at least I would have Amelia and the rest of my family for company.

Getting back to my desk, I restarted Fingered, which was widely considered to be Kern’s best film. Or, at least the one that makes the most sense. Personally, I’d always preferred The Manhattan Love Suicides.

She was there. In my head. The girl from class. No matter what I did, I couldn’t shake her from my thoughts. Her eyes, her scent, her curves.