My morning alarm buzzed many times as I kept pressing the snooze button. I’d been awake since three in the morning but didn’t want to get out of my bed. I felt a pang of ache in my chest as I was thinking of last night. Rolling on my back, I stared at the ceiling and threw an arm across my forehead. I think I know why.
“Rule number nine, Rory! You are the one who wrote that rule,” I whined, slapping my forehead.
Composing my feelings and thoughts, I got up and washed my face in the bathroom sink. After drying off, I walked into the kitchen and found Peter’s mug was already in the sink.
“He must be on his morning jog,” I murmured, making a cup of coffee for myself. I pressed the button, and the machine started humming gently. Soon, my coffee was ready, and I took the cup to the patio to enjoy the fresh morning air and forget about last night.
Outside, the sky was partly cloudy, and the fresh breeze embraced me. With a deep breath, I put the cup on the table and sat on the patio sofa. A mockingbird perched on the magnolia tree sang a medley of songs, which to my sleepy mind sounded like a lullaby. I was tempted to close my eyes but worried I’d end up late for work.
“Maybe I could close my eyes for just five minutes,” I mumbled. And I did.
Next thing I knew, someone was poking my shoulder. “Aaahhhhhh!” I jumped from the sofa. My right hand knocked the cup off the table, and it shattered on the floor.
I stared at Peter bending over me, with his forefinger still pointing at my shoulder where he’d been poking me. He’d just returned from his jogging because his other hand still held his shoes.
“Geez, what are you doing?” I said, raising my voice. “You scared me.”
“I didn’t mean to startle you, but you were snoring on the patio,” Peter said. Then he motioned to the corner of his mouth while the other hand pointed at me as if he wanted to say, “You were drooling too.”
My palm was a bit wet as I wiped the corner of my mouth. How embarrassing! “I should clean up this mess,” I said, heading inside the house.
Peter’s mouth twisted into a smile as I pushed past him.
“Did I snore loudly?” I asked, opening the closet door to get a broom and a dustpan.
Peter shook his head. “It was purring like a cat,” he said, pressing his smile. “I didn’t know you were so cute when sleeping.”
“Shut it!” I hissed as my cheeks filled with warmth.
Our hands brushed unintentionally when Peter took the broom and the dustpan from me. The skin on my hand tingled at the contact like his hand had transmitted electricity to me. Watching him sweep the floor, I hid my hand behind my back.
“Why did you fall asleep on the patio? Didn’t you sleep well last night?” he asked over his shoulder.
I bit my lower lips. Did he know I was still awake when he came home? “Not really. When I have a lot going at work, I don’t really sleep well,” I lied.
Peter nodded and brought the dustpan to the trash can to throw away the shattered glass.
“Thanks,” I said as he put the broom and the dustpan back inside the closet.
“No worries,” he said. “Well, you are lucky, I’m a good roommate. I was so tempted to take your picture while you were drooling.”
“Did you?” My eyes widened.
Peter winked. “I told you, I’m a good roommate.” Then he waved his hand and headed to his room. “Time to take a shower.”
I watched him go, still feeling his skin on mine. Letting out a sigh, I returned to my room. As I brushed my teeth, I heard buzzes from my phone on the bedside table and hoped it wasn’t Rowena already.
I flicked open the phone, finding the text message was from Peter. My brows wrinkled together as I read his text.
Rory, I ran out of toilet paper. Do you have some extra? Can I borrow it now?
I blinked at the message. What? Then I remembered about putting five extra rolls under the bathroom sink in Peter’s room right before he’d moved in. I replied.
If you haven’t bought your supply yet, you can use the rolls under the sink.
A second later, another ping came.
I used them all.
Huh?
Wait, five extra rolls under the sink and one, still new, on the holder, meaning six rolls of toilet paper gone in such a short time. As a guy, he didn’t need as much toilet paper as a woman, right?
Tilting my head to the side, I texted him back.
You used five rolls of toilet paper already? What did you do with them?
His answer came shortly.
I’ve used them to wipe the sink or if the floor is wet. Sorry.
I felt my jaw dropped. Unbelievable! And he could ask me if he didn’t have drying towels. I had plenty!
“Patience, Rory…patience.” I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I replied to him.
Sure. I’ll give you one.
Another ping came.
Could you put it in front of the bathroom door? My bedroom isn’t locked so you can come in. Thanks, Roomie!
Arggh!
From my closet, I took one roll of toilet paper, two clean hand towels, and one drying towel and took them to his room. Turning the knob, I pushed the unlocked door open and entered his room. My eyes scanned his whole room for the first time. This dude wasn’t bad at keeping his room neat. Yes, he had hired the cleaning lady, but his room was pretty clean for a young man like him. The blanket was folded on the end of his bed, and his jackets were on the jacket holder. There were books stacked neatly on the floor by his bed.
My phone vibrated with an incoming text from Peter again.
Have you brought the paper yet?
Impatient little twerp! Rolling my eyes, I walked to the bathroom and put the roll and the towels on the floor next to the door.
“Peter, the toilet paper is on the floor!” I screamed from outside, rapping my knuckles loudly against the door on purpose. “I don’t want to see you naked, so don’t open your door until I leave your room, OK?”
“Damn, Rory. I’m not deaf!” Peter yelled back from inside. “And wait…how will I know when you have already left my room?”
A laugh almost burst from my mouth. “Your room is not that big, Peter. How long do you think it will take for me to walk across an eleven-by-twelve room?” I said, trying not to laugh. “Just wait for ten seconds, OK? And I’m leaving now!”
I was grinning as I scurried across his room and closed the door. He was a funny guy!
I was in the living room with my notebook bag, ready to go to work when Peter came out of his bedroom. His blue shirt looked good on him.
He gave a shy smile as our eyes met. “Thanks for the toilet paper, Rory,” he said, taking his work shoes out of the closet.
“No worries,” I shrugged, waving my hand. “Just don’t forget to buy some for yourself, OK? There is a Target around the corner. Or you can go with me to Costco. Then we can split that toilet paper to save some money. And don’t worry about the hand towels and the drying towel; I can lend them to you since you won’t be here very long anyway, so you won’t need to buy towels.”
“Thank you,” Peter replied. “If you don’t come home late, let’s go to Costco tonight.”
I nodded. “Sounds good because I need to buy some toothpaste and soap too.”
Peter smiled and went out the door, holding it for me as I headed off to work too.