Page 23 of Talk to Me

“I assumed.” Collin laughed and pulled his bag up to the bed and unzipped it. “I knew you weren’t hosting any wild parties, for sure. Or—gasp—entertaining a gentleman caller.”

Turning in my chair again, I stared blankly at him.

“Two things,” I said, “did you just say ‘gasp’? And ‘gentleman caller’? When did our dorm room turn into a Victorian drama?”

He waved me off and began digging items out of his bag and tossing them onto his bed. The smell that emanated from the open bag told me that Collin desperately needed to do laundry. I hoped that he was going to gather up his dirty clothes, but especially the ones from the bag, and head down to the laundry room. When he stood from the bed and went to grab his laundry bag from his wardrobe, I sighed internally.

It wasn’t unlike Collin to leave dirty clothes in a pile on his side of the room until the dorm smelled of armpit and mildew. Seeing him get on top of the problem before it became a bigger problem brought me peace. I didn’t want a third year of smelling his body odor. If anyone was going to have questionable hygiene, it was going to be me on Friday mornings when I overslept.

“Fine,” Collin mumbled as he began stuffing dirty clothes in the bag. “You weren’t getting some strange from another studious nerd on campus.”

“I don’t know that that’s better.”

He laughed and continued with his chore. As I watched him, I realized that eventually, I was going to have to say something about the Peepers video he’d made. I’m not one for confrontation—as I rarely find myself in situations that require it—but I knew delaying the inevitable would make it worse. Nothing brings fire to an argument like the other party finding out you’ve been sitting on your resentment for a length of time.

“So,” I began with a sigh, “I wanted to ask you about something.”

“Ask away,” Collin said, not stopping his task.

If you tell any person that you want to ask them something, it’s anxiety-inducing. Collin, on the other hand, seemed to be immune from jumping to the conclusion that anyone could possibly be mad at him. That’s what made confrontations with him difficult. He rarely saw anything he did as questionable, or that anyone would have a problem with any choices he made.

“Why’d you make that Peepers video?” I asked.

Collin didn’t even seem to register what I was referring to.

“Which one?” he asked, stuffing a visibly soiled t-shirt into his bag.

“Where you said I called Theo all those names?” I asked. “You said I called him an ‘asshole’ and a ‘dick’ and ‘rude’. I didn’t say any of that.”

Unsure of what I expected, I waited for Collin to drop everything, turn to me, and squeal that I was making a mountain out of a molehill. Or scream that I had somehow invaded his privacy—even though the video was on a public app. Any of Collin’s dramatics were possible. However, I hoped that he would grow red-faced, show shame, and apologize. The first two were more in Collin’s wheelhouse, but an apology was not completely impossible. He’d given them before.

“Oh,” he waved a hand at me, “no one cares about those things. And no one even knew which friend I was talking about.”

“Theo did,” I said. “He knew it was me.”

Finally, Collin did stop collecting clothes to give me his attention. The mention of Theo’s name—and the fact that he’d confronted me about the video—was worthy of Collin’s attention.

A smile tugged at the corner of Collin’s mouth.

“Ohmygod,” Collin squealed. “Did he get all up in your face?”

My brow furrowed so deeply I was certain I felt a crack in my skin.

“No,” I said. “He didn’t get all up in my face. But he was upset, yeah.”

“That is hilarious!” Collin barked with laughter.

Waiting for him to settle down, I found myself confused by his reaction.

“It’s not hilarious, Collin,” I said once he quieted. “His feelings were really hurt.”

The smile melted from his face.

“And,” I said, “mine were, too. I mean, you lied about me. And you made me look like a total dick to a stranger. You used me to hurt someone else’s feelings. It wasn’t cool.”

He rolled his eyes and stomped over to his bed to shove the clothes from his bag into the laundry bag. I watched as he finished gathering his laundry before turning to me once again.

“You’re so dramatic,” he said. “It’s just a video. No one even cares. Everyone knows that people talk shit online all the time. I was just trolling.”