Something Blue

Chapter 4

"This is an acai smoothie bowl," Nicki said, addressing an invisible audience. The flexible tripod in her hand was lightweight and sturdy. She kept filming as blender blades loudly spun into motion. Elliot grumbled at the annoying racket. His head was still recovering from the alcohol-deluged party.

"No vlogging before noon," Elliot remarked, mouth half full. He was chewing a plain piece of toast, hoping to soak up any remaining liquor in his stomach before work.

Nicki silenced the blender and directed her camera toward the blue-haired boy and said, "And this is my roommate Elliot." She zoomed in on his face. "A walking advert for waterproof mascara." She was way too perky in the morning.

His eyeballs did a dramatic orbit, accentuating his smudged makeup. He had probably left some splotches of eyeliner on Pierce's pillow. Nicki laughed behind the camera before Elliot displayed the half-chewed toast on his tongue and then blocked the lens with one hand. In response, she switched off the device and opted to eat breakfast without the company of a digital screen.

Their kitchen table was lopsided. One of its legs was half an inch shorter than the rest, so it wobbled from subtle nudges. A student had built it in woodshop and then put it on a curb as trash. Nicki had convinced two Theta Chi frat guys to lug it all the way to the house, determined to claim the free furniture as her own. Most of the items in their house had been acquired from dumpsters or junkyards. A cheap table was just another triumph for their college finances.

Their house was the third smallest thing on the planet, only preceded by subatomic particles and America's EPA funding. It was located west of Raising Canes on Beacon Street, hidden in a cluster of lesser-known fraternities and sororities. In the bowels of Dinkytown, as the locals would describe, or, as Nicki would argue - the affordable rent zone.

There was barely enough space for one person to occupy the two-bedroom 1920 bungalow, but Elliot, Nicki and Quinn somehow managed to live in the tiny home comfortably. Although sometimes Elliot missed four white walls and a bed next to Pierce.

"Nicki," Quinn addressed. Her head was in the refrigerator, rearranging the top shelf. Elliot could see Nicki's court summons pinned to the door like an A+ assignment. She got caught skinny dipping. They were very proud. "Did you eat my chicken?"

"No. I went vegan last week, remember?"

Vegan. Like the coconut oil underneath Pierce's bed. Elliot's mind plunged into the darkness of Pierce's dorm room. He could feel Pierce's tongue gliding across his collarbone as the lubricant melted over his fingers. Slick. Messy. And carefully readied for Elliot's -

"Elliot, did you eat it?"

He almost choked, clearing his throat to say, "W-what? Eat what?" His face felt hot.

Quinn blinked, bored. She closed the fridge and replied, "My chicken."

"No," he shook his head. "No. I, uh...I might've moved it to the freezer, though." He pushed his toast away, not wanting to draw attention to his mouth.

Quinn opened the freezer and sifted through a pile of frozen pizzas. Her bleached hair was pulled back into two tight braids, but it was too short to reach the tip of her shoulders. Like her personality, the hairstyle was perfect and practical.

"It'll take a whole day to thaw this," Quinn mumbled, holding up a chicken-icicle. "Nicki, can I borrow some of your gross protein powder?"

"It's organic," she quipped.

"Whatever it is," Quinn muttered. "Can I take some to practice?"

She walked to the sink, trying to find a clean shaker bottle. Her mom had bought them a pack of sponges, but it was never opened. There were stacks of dirty cereal bowls and old take-out bags lining the counter. Elliot had coined the mess 'dirty-dish décor.'

"Fine," Nicki uttered. "Give some to Elliot too. He looks like he needs to regain some strength."

Elliot narrowed his eyes at her.

Quinn grinned. "Did you hook up with the Jake-Paul-Wannabe? Or the Domino's delivery guy?"

The three roommates sat around the table like a low-budget talk show, eager to divulge their personal drama. Elliot stared beyond Quinn's head and counted the shrine of socks on the wall. There were still only seven nailed into the plaster, meaning no strangers had stayed the night. Both girls had left the party early, making Elliot's whereabouts the most intriguing topic.

The blue-haired boy acted causal. "Neither," he stated. "It was just another jock with a big closet and tiny dick." He smiled to himself, imagining how angry Pierce would be if he would've heard the lie. The nape of his neck prickled, thinking of the sultry payback.

Nicki stood and made the wood beneath her feet creak. The floorboards were the old-fashioned, thin planks that bowed over time. It was impossible to sneak someone in and out of the house without having the floor screech, which was one of the reasons Elliot kept returning to dorm room 624 instead of bringing Pierce to his bedroom.

"Quinnie," Nicki started, speaking partially upside-down. She was dangling her curls over the bulky radiator heater, using it as a hairdryer. "What happened with the engineering major?"

Quinn cringed. "He made me soap."

"He what?"

"He made me soap," Quinn said. "Like an actual bar of soap."

Nicki tried to look supportive. "That's...nice."

"Did you use it?" Elliot asked.

She looked horrified. "No."

Quinn put some granola bars in her duffle bag before grabbing her cleats. Seeing her early morning workouts and iced elbows made Elliot thankful he didn't pursue football in college. He didn't have the energy or the passion for sports anymore. Quinn was different. She had managed to become the first female quarterback at the University of Minnesota. Besides pure talent, it took years of determination.

"Nic," Quinn spoke from the front doorway. Her keys jingled. "I can't film that video with you next week. The team has a mandatory scrimmage."

Nicki's whole mood deflated. "But I was going to turn your face into a glamorous snow leopard."

She held the door open, inviting in a chilly draft. "Ask Elliot's face if it wants to be a leopard," was all she said before leaving the house.

The daylight was making Elliot squint. He wanted to crawl back into bed and relive Pierce's body, but he had to much to do. He couldn't spend the whole day thinking of a guy.

"My face declines the offer," Elliot interjected. "Wholeheartedly."

"Come on," Nicki frowned. "It's a makeup battle. All you have to do is sit there."

"I prefer to be the mysterious roommate in your vlogs," Elliot said. "Not a main character."

"I'll pay you," she offered.

"Fine." He took one last bite of his toast and abandoned the table. "I need to shower before work. Don't film my shaving routine again."