Breakaway

7. just a matter of time.

Ethan

The morning after the party, I met Geoff at the campus gym to train before meeting my finance study group. It was our hangover ritual; a few Gatorades, some heavy weights, and you were almost as good as new after.

Unless you puked. But that didn't happen too often.

"Dude," he said, shaking his head as he spotted me on the bench press, "this roommate situation of yours is a seriously bad idea."

"What? It's fine. I've lived with a girl before," I said dismissively, pushing the Olympic bar overhead with a grunt.

His curly brown hair fell in his eyes as he peered down at me, raising an eyebrow. "You mean your cousin? That doesn't count. This Ryan chick is a dime. You're going to end up hooking up. I'm calling it now: trouble." He chastised me as he helped me re-rack the bar.

"I'm not looking to hook up with anyone. Between school and practice, I have enough going on as it is," I told him as we switched places.

Though, I had to admit, he was partly right. Ryan was smoking hot. If things were different, I would have hooked up with her in a heartbeat. But things weren't different.

"Exactly," he groaned, straining under the weight of the bar. "You're stressed out. And you know what's a great stress reliever? Getting laid."

"I don't need to add any complications to my life right now," I reminded him, tempted to drop the bar on him if he didn't shut up.

"Too late, bro. You already did."

*

Ryan

After surviving the first week of classes, Isabelle and I decided to catch up over sushi at our favorite place, Tokyo Corner. It was our go-to because the food was fresh, it was inexpensive, and most importantly, they had cute, private little booths where we could dish without the risk of being overheard by anyone else from school.

While Iz was dying to hear the inside scoop about living with Ethan, I was desperately in need of some girl time. Ethan had been a decent enough roommate so far, but he wasn't much for gossip. He wasn't much for small talk at all, actually. I was having a hard time getting to know him beneath the superficial aspects of his personality. It was kind of like living with a 2-D cut-out of an attractive, hockey player. I told myself he was just slow to warm up, but secretly I was getting worried that he never would.

"Guess who I saw the other day?" I dipped my cucumber roll into the dish of soy sauce in front of me.

Isabelle's eyes narrowed. "Jerkface?"

"Yup. Unfortunately." It was impossible to avoid my ex, Harry. We both worked at the same hospital, which made for some uncomfortable hallway encounters. "But you'll be proud to know that I didn't cry." This was a first, and a major accomplishment for me.

"Good," she said. "Did you kick him in the knee instead?"

"No." I cringed. "He didn't see me, so I ducked into in a supply closet until he was gone." Not my finest moment, but it spared both of us the pain of having to avoid making eye contact and pretending we didn't know each other.

Isabelle shrugged. "Hey, it's progress. But I'm still team knee kick."

From beside the plate of California rolls, her cellphone started to ring. The display read 'Axel calling'. Axel? According to her, they hadn't talked since his birthday party last week. It was clear there was more to it than she was letting on.

"Isabelle!" I pointed at the screen. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

"It's not a big deal." She blushed, busying herself with pouring soy sauce into her dish. "We've just been talking, that's all."