Safe

The Eleventh Lesson

                  "Making mistakes is easy. Learning from them is hard."

        Clare and I had once been roommates. In our freshman year, second semester, we'd lived in the on-campus dorms and spent a little over three months sharing a tiny space. It had forced us to bond and know things about each other that most people would only tell their life-partners. Still, as much as I loved Clare and she loved me, we both knew that rooming together was a horrible, horrible idea. So she had moved into a house with Tobe and I'd spent the next couple of years visiting her as much as I could to get away from my dorm room.

     After staying with me for a few nights, she had reminded me why we both needed personal space from each other. Her clothes, and mine, were strewn across the floor amongst bits and pieces of food packaging and dirty plates. I didn't mind having a messy room but it was starting to become toxic. I may not be able to breathe properly through my nose but I could still smell musty clothes and rotting food and it had to stop.

     So I locked her in my room.

     Of course, my bedroom door could be opened from the inside even if I locked it with a key from the outside, but I'd removed the door handle on the inside. The only way she'd get the door to open was if she had a grippy pair of pliers.

     "You're being a brat," Clare said from inside, banging against the door. The thuds were soft and had a long break between each one so I guessed she was knocking her head against the wood.

     "You're the brat. You've got two garbage bags, a vacuum and a laundry hamper. Start cleaning. If it's not done by the time I let you out, maybe in an hour, I will kick you out. And then you can sleep on the couch. Though the floor would be more comfortable."

     "You suck." Her voice was muffled, as if she'd moved away from the door. Hopefully she was cleaning. From living with her, I'd learnt that she was fine doing things if she didn't have a choice.

     I was about to leave her to it when I heard my phone ring. Damn. What kind of idiot locked their phone in the room with a hostile captive?

     "Just let it ring out," I shouted through the door. What were the chances she'd let that happen...? Zero.

     "Ooh, it's Cormac. Surely you don't want to miss his call."

     I put my hand on the doorknob and stuck the key in the lock. "Don't answer it. Just... put it next to the door and then back away."

     "Or I could just answer it."

     "Clare—"

     "Helloo," she answered the phone with a high-toned voice.

     "Shit," I muttered to myself. I could open the door and demand the phone but she'd probably use it to bargain her way out of having to clean the room.

     "Oh, how did you guess? ... I'd love to give you over to Darce but she's locked me in her bedroom... Yeah, she's kinky like that."

     Okay, that was it. I unlocked the door and shoved it open, glaring at her. She was sitting on my bed, raising her brows at me while she listened to something that Cormac was saying.

     "Oh!" she said suddenly. "No, wait, she's letting me out."

     I shook my head firmly and held out my hand for the phone.

     She smirked. "I think she needs a bit of time to find the key. Could you answer this riddle for me? How can to reasonable adults – now, I'm assuming they're both sexually capable – be attracted to each other and yet not at least attempt to screw each other's brains out when the opportunity arises?"