Page 28 of Talk to Me

“You’re the only person here who has really stood up for me at all,” he said. “That day in American Lit. When you glared at that kid and waved for him to turn around. It’s the only time anyone here has done anything to stand up for me. That’s why I was really hurt by that video your friend made on Peepers.”

I looked up at him. He was staring at me, as though inspecting me. Finally, he spoke again.

“So,” he said, “did you really grow up on a farm? Like, an actual, real farm?”

“My dad’s a farmer,” I said. “That’s…how he makes his living. Mom’s a teacher. It’s a real farm. Not one of those giant industrial farms or anything, but it’s a farm.”

He stared at me.

“Do you even like gummy candy?” I asked.

He gave me the smallest smile.

“That company fired me as a partner when…well, they fired me,” he said. “I still bought five bags of their candy the other day at the store. They’re delicious.”

Suddenly, we were smiling at each other. Theo let out a sigh and held his cup up to me.

“Next round’s on me,” he said.

“Okay,” I nodded.

Then he headed inside and dashed into the stairwell.

Collin used our room for studying after classes and nothing else the remainder of the week. If and when I saw him, he’d only glare at me briefly before giving me a snippy response if I bothered to try and speak to him. I’d like to say I was surprised by his behavior, but we’d had arguments before. After two years of rooming together our freshman and sophomore years, we’d had plenty of disagreements. I’d gotten used to his form of communication when he was in the wrong and simply couldn’t bring himself to apologize immediately.

Experience told me that if I waited long enough, he’d realize that he was being stupid, that he had been wrong, and he’d apologize. I’d simply have to put up with his attitude until he figured things out on his own. Eventually, I hoped that he’d start to self-reflect and future arguments wouldn’t require days or weeks of being iced out.

However, when he was mad at me, he spent his nights with his fling of the moment, so I kind of enjoyed those periods after arguments. I got to enjoy the room to myself in the evenings, jerk off at night when I wanted, and sleep better without anyone to disturb the vibe of the room. So, while I hoped he’d get better at communicating, I was going to enjoy the pros of his nonsense while I had the opportunity.

Even though I should have kept my curiosity in check, I did log in to Peepers a few times throughout the week. I’d check out Theo’s account to see if he’d made any new videos, of course, but mostly, I was spying on Collin. If he made any other questionable videos with our “friends,” I wanted to be on top of it. Having Theo surprise me with another embarrassing video from Collin wasn’t something I wanted to experience a second time.

Fortunately, Collin’s account stayed inactive. At least when it came to video creation. I was certain he was watching other creators’ videos, but I had no way to know for sure. However, knowing that he wasn’t spouting more lies about Theo or me was comforting. I figured out how to check videos that tagged or “mentioned” Theo, so I was able to catch anything that I might have missed. Yet again, I was relieved to find that things had kind of died down on the bullying front. At least on Peepers.

By Friday, it was apparent by the rarity of my Collin sightings that he was sneaking into the room for anything he needed while he knew I’d be gone. It should have hurt, having my best friend avoid me, but I found that I was relieved. His dramatics, his squealing, his snippiness—it was nice to be free of it for a while. So, I didn’t bother texting him to extend an olive branch. He’d either come to his senses like he had dozens of times before, or we’d end up avoiding each other until the year was over and we could go home for the summer.

That morning, I got up early enough to hit the bathrooms and thoroughly shower, shave, and groom myself for the day. Leaving the dorms thirty minutes early, I hoped that I’d have time to stop in Midway Roasters for a coffee before American Lit. However, when I breezed by the shop, the line wasn’t quite out the door, but it was long enough that it felt risky to hop inside. Instead, I went by the dining hall and grabbed a bottled cold brew.

By the time I got to class, there was plenty of time to spare, and our professor hadn’t even arrived yet. I got my binder out, read over my notes, and waited for the class to fill up in the remaining ten minutes. Noticeably, Theo still hadn’t arrived when only five minutes remained until the start time, so he hadn’t taken my advice to get to class earlier. However, he surprised me when he showed up before all of the seats had filled up.

Two coffee cups in hand, he zipped through the crowd of students and slid into the seat next to me. The fact that he had other options, but chose to sit with me made a smile bloom on my face. He turned in his seat to me, holding out one of the coffee cups to me.

“Hi,” he said with a grin.

“Good morning,” I replied, taking the cup from him. “Look at you.”

“Decided to brave the coffee shop,” he leaned over to whisper as students began to fill up the other tables. “When it’s busy, and everyone’s worried about getting to class on time, they care less about who’s next to them in line.”

I chuckled. “Smart thinking. But still brave.”

He shrugged and his cheeks turned rosy. I took a moment to slip my bottled cold brew—which I had yet to open—back into my bag. If I put it in our fridge in the dorm after class, I’d have a coffee waiting on me first thing on a Saturday morning. That was never a bad thing.

Within moments, Theo had pulled out his materials and our professor was beginning class. It took a minute for everyone to settle into their seats as the professor began. When I glanced over at Theo, I was pleased to see that he was sipping his coffee and watching the professor eagerly. Any sign of anxiety or nervousness was gone, replaced with the confidence his brave venture into Midway Roasters had given him.

Smiling, I tore my eyes from him and sipped my coffee, listening to the professor as well. For the first ten minutes of class, our professor lectured briefly over the first act of Waiting for Godot, which had been our first reading assignment. Theo and I listened intently as she talked about theme, the characters, and general plot of the play, as well as a brief history of Beckett’s career. Then she opened the floor to questions and thoughts from us.

“Overall,” our professor asked, “and so far, what do you feel the purpose or theme of the play is?”

Theo’s hand shot into the air, which pleasantly surprised me. I turned my head to look at him with a smile. He was eagerly waiting to be called upon.