Part 2- I Don't Like Being Called a Guy

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I tapped the soul of my boot on the worn welcome mat, my patience wearing thin with the lack of response from Chris at the other side of this length of wood. Is this guy nocturnal or something? What the hell is taking him so long?

I sighed theatrically before setting the box that I’d been carrying down on the floor and raising my fist to the door again. “Oi! Hello? Is anybody in?” I yelled whilst trying to hide the tremor of worry in my voice as I knocked again.

“Keep your fucking pants on!” someone yelled back, making me jump.

I raised my eyebrows as I heard a clicking noise from the other side of the door as my new flatmate counteracted the lock. If this guy was going to be as aggressive as I can be sometimes, then we were probably going to have some problems. The only reason that I’d followed Carrie’s advice and was staying with this guy was because she’d told me he was a ‘good guy’ and that we’d ‘get along’.

I reached my hands to my head and hastily smoothed down my choppy brown hair with my slightly sweaty hands. What did I have to be nervous about? Oh yeah, this guy could be a freaking maniac! No offense to Carrie…

He opened the door, catching me off-guard and in mid-hair flattening. He was taller than I’d imagined him. Not that I’d imagined him or anything... His light brown hair was facing all directions, his grey t-shirt was crumpled and his glasses were at an odd angle. I couldn’t help but think that I actually had just woken him up.

I cleared my throat awkwardly and moved to wipe the sweat off my hands on the leg of my jeans. “Um, I’m Jamie Gail? Your new flatmate?” I held my hand out to him to shake his. He looked down at my hand and I immediately felt self-conscious of my chipped black nail polish. I drew my hand away when he didn’t shake it and just sort of stood there awkwardly.

“Nice try,” he scoffed, folding his arms over his chest, “Alright, how did you find out my address? I might have to move again if it’s a public thing…”

“What?” I said, raising an eyebrow at him sceptically. “I got your address from Carrie. You know, the person who recommended to you and me that I stay here? And what do you mean ‘you might have to move’?”

This guy raised his eyebrows at me. “Are you serious? You’re my new flatmate? But you’re a girl!”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Well done, Captain Obvious,” I scoffed.

“You’re welcome Lieutenant Sarcasm,” he rallied, tipping an imaginary hat. He shook his head and composed himself. “But you sounded like a guy on the phone! And then the intercom too!”

I frowned at him. “My voice isn’t that deep…”

“No, that’s not what I meant! I- eugh,” he crumpled slightly, looking up at the ceiling as he tried to think. He tapped his bare feet on the floor for a moment before he sighed in an irritated manner. He stuck his own hand out towards me reluctantly. “Nice to meet you, Jamie. I’m Chris.”

I shook his hand, trying not to enjoy the way his fingers wrapped around mine. I was sure he could feel my pulse, well, pulsing through my thumb. If I was going to be like this around him, then this living arrangement was sure going to be interesting, not to mention the whole anger thing.

We dropped hands only for Chris to shove his hands into his jeans pockets. “So…do you want a hand with all of your stuff?” he asked me, tipping his head to the three cardboard boxes and two duffel bags that were cluttering the small hallway.

“Oh! Yeah, sure,” I stuttered, leaning down to slide my arms through the two bags’ straps and setting them on my back. I looked at Chris expectantly for some instructions on where I should put my things.

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