JOMI

Initial 3 cult

"Finally."
I could hear a voice as I struggled to open my eyes and see. My two roommates were here. Shame. Shame.
" I am Whitney. Nice meeting you — Miss whom?"
I sat up as the boy stared at me. Why was he so cold? I think the so called Whitney was alittle better. Less cold. Like 60%. The other was like 90? yes.
"Jomi." I replied looking at Whitney.
"And you?". I asked turning to look at him. He was standing near the room curtains. The hospital smelt of fresh medicine and silk sheets.

"Micheal. But I'd prefer Mike." He responded removing the gum he was chewing as he stared disgustedly at me.

What a start of the year! Not what I anticipated.

"Your white boyfriend left."  Micheal spoke pouring water for me to take my tabs.
I didn't like those tight pants he wore. Was he even comfortable? Why choose shouting green for your nails? Couldn't he go for black? He would look better. But I like his cream wig. It's giving. Wait, is he a she or a he? Is this the right time to ask if he is gay?
"Are you—  I jumped in to ask. God my lips my big mouth.
"I knew you'd think so." He replied.
"I am not. I am an actor and this is my ATIRE FOR THE ROLE PLAY. Now Will you shut up and APOLOGISE FOR EMBAR—
"Mikeee. She is still sick." Whitney stopped him.
" I knowww. It's —
"Mikee?"
We both turned and looked at him.
"He is giving Chihuahua energy." I whispered at Witney and we both started to laugh.
He was so furious but ended up laughing too.
"Really?" He smiled seating near my legs on the hospital bed. We laughed and started to clear up the university hospital bed where I was laying.
Whitney drove us back to our hostel apartment.

Where did he go?  Mr. yesterday?
Not even a hi? Or a 'how are you'? I think I cannot anymore with him.

My head was heavy.
I do not like the smell of fuel. It makes me vomit.
I could not wait to get out and prepare for school son Monday.