Dare Me to Live

Chapter 5

I was surprised when he led me towards the senior housing across campus.

"I thought you were a freshman," I said warily.

"No, the real-world is calling my name as much as I try to pretend I'm deaf," he said.

"Why are you in a freshmen philosophy class then?" I demanded. This had a bright red flag stuck in it, but strangely I didn't feel afraid.

He shrugged, "I just never took it and it's a requirement to graduate."

His words were nonchalant, bored even, but the stiffness in his shoulders said he was uneasy.

We stopped at a run-down house that had clearly seen its share of parties.

"It used to be a frat house," he said by way of explanation, watching my eyes take in the peeling paint, scuffed porch, and crooked shutters.

The inside was nicer than I expected. The walls had been painted recently and the lights were all new. A cracked leather sofa took up space in one corner facing an enormous flat screen TV mounted on the wall. A video game console hummed on standby. Call of Duty, FIFA, and NHL game covers were placed haphazardly on top.

"Do you play?" he asked.

"A little," I replied.

Call of Duty and FIFA weren't my strong suit, but my record for NHL was impressive enough. Danny and I had used to play a lot.

"You'll have to come by for the next tournament."

He walked over to a coat closet and pulled out a small towel for me to wipe feet.

"Tournament?" I asked, scrubbing at the mud and grass.

"My friends and I set up brackets-loser has to buy alcohol for the next party and clean the house the next morning."

I chuckled in spite of myself. "Couldn't get any more creative?"

"You know, maybe I will make you sleep outside," he said, tugging the towel out of my hand.

He headed into the hallway, tossing the towel into a side laundry room, and stopping outside another door farther down. Floorboards creaked as I followed. His room was plain, most of the space given over to a queen-sized bed with a dark blue comforter. A black dresser hosted a crooked mirror opposite the bed, and a window dressed in standard blinds and a limp blue curtain let a slant of moonlight fall across the floor to just barely hit our feet in the doorway. An Arsenal flag hung above the bed; the wooden floor was half-covered by a blue rug that looked like it was an afterthought.

A stack of books crowded his small end table, most in danger of falling off. At first glance, I figured they were just textbooks, but a closer look revealed 1984 holding up an impossibly thick chemistry book, and a battered copy of the Count of Monte Cristo leaned drunkenly against the wall, a few loose pages peeking out.

"It's not much," he said, drawing my attention away. "But you can take the bed since it looks like my roommate decided to come home for once." He jerked his thumb to another closed door down the hall off the tiny kitchen. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"Oh, no really, it's okay," I said, quickly. "I can take the couch. "

"Trust me, you don't want to sleep there with all of the parties my roommate throws," laughed Tyler. "I need to burn that couch and get a new one."

"Lovely," I said. "Well I can sleep on the floor if you just give me a blanket-"

He laughed louder. "If the couch is bad, do you really think the floor is any safer?"