Roommate's Virgin

“I am,” she nodded. “Columbia.”

“No way… that’s a good one,” I said. “What are you studying?”

“Music,” she replied.

“Wow,” I said, immediately intrigued. “What instrument do you play?”

“Mainly piano,” Zoey replied. “But I can also play the guitar and the violin.”

“Wow, that’s impressive.”

“You think so?” Zoey asked. “I’ve spent the last few years surrounded by people who play twice as many instruments as I do. It’s always made me feel inadequate.”

“Inadequate is the last word in the world I would use to describe you,” I said.

She raised her eyebrows and gave me an amused smile. “You don’t know anything about me,” she pointed out.

“But the tiny little bit I do know about you makes me want to know all the rest.”

She blushed again, and I had the sudden urge to kiss her, but I knew enough to know not to act on that particular desire. That would just freak her out and ruin any chance I might have had with her. I would just have to control my desires. For the time being, I would just have to resort to imagining what it would be like to kiss her.

“When did you start working at the station?” Zoey asked, and I could tell she was trying to change the subject because she was embarrassed with my obvious interest in her.

“Uh… a few days ago,” I replied.

“Oh so you’re a rookie,” she said.

I frowned, realizing that she had probably assumed that I was a firefighter. I was on the cusp of admitting to her that that wasn’t the reason I was here, but then something stopped me from telling her the truth. I wanted to impress this girl and admitting to my past transgressions was probably not the way to do that, so I decided to be as vague as possible without actually lying to her face. I figured that I could come clean if and when we got to know one another a little better. Then she would understand me… she would have context; she would see that I was more than just my mistakes.

“I guess you could call me that,” I said. “But… I don’t plan on sticking around here for very long.”

“You don’t?” Zoey asked.

“No,” I said. “This is just… a temporary thing. What I really want to do is… make art.”

“Make art?” Zoey repeated, and she seemed surprised by that. “You’re an artist?”

I laughed. “

You sound surprised.”

“I guess I am a little,” Zoey nodded. “You just don’t look the type…”

“I don’t?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

She blushed again, and I saw her getting nervous. “I… that is… what I mean is… you look more like a firefighter and I mean that as a compliment.”

“Well then… thank you,” I said, bowing my head a little.

“So… what’s your medium?”

“I paint and draw,” I replied. “But I’ve also incorporated photography into my art before. I don’t like to stick to one thing; I like experimenting.”

“And what subjects do you like to focus on?”

“Mostly portraits and scenic paintings… but again I don’t stick to just those subjects. I like to dabble… I draw inspiration from everywhere and everyone.”

“I always wished that I could draw,” Zoey admitted. “I thought it would be the most wonderful thing in the world to be able to imagine something in your head and then bring it to life on paper.”