Emilio

(III)Oh My Word, We're Roommates

"Don't slam my damn door you imbecile." Those were the first words that greeted me as I sat down in the passenger seat of Emilio's car.

"Wow. It's not retarded." I resorted, already tired of Emilio's shit.

"Well it's good to hear that especially from a person of your calibre."

"The least you can do is be nice or at least shut the hell up! You're acting like you're the victim here. You hit me with your car, you narcissist."

"I didn't hit you with my car. You were the one who hit my car and I had to pay to fix the dent your big head left in it."

I couldn't believe this. Wasn't I the victim here?"You should learn to slow down when you're driving."

"And you should learn to speed the hell up when you're crossing a parking lot."

"I hate you," I muttered underneath my breath, hoping he wouldn't hear.

"Likewise." He replied.

The rest of the ride when by in a blur. I'm surprised one of us isn't back in the hospital by now because of how we were going at each other.

After a long drive from the hospital, we pulled up to a house.

Emilio stepped out of the car and walked to the door of his home. I have to say it was really impressive. His house was two stories high with a lush lawn and an array of flowers. This seemed like I really nice neighborhood. One I would love to live in when I started my family. The exterior walls were a chorus of browns, black and white.

I decided to to see if Emilio was any less disrespectful than on the ride here.

"Couldn't you try to be a gentleman and get the door for me," I questioned.

"I'm not your butler and I'm pretty sure you're not handicapped." He answered stepping through the door.

"Well I am in a lot of pain."

"Not my problem."

"Well are you at least gonna invite me inside?"

"Yes, most definitely. Stay right there I'll be back to escort you to your suite."

I knew that was sarcasm. Sarcasm was my second language and I could spot it from a mile away. My best option was to figure out everything by myself.

I made my way towards the door. I immediately realized that the tiles were marble. My mom worked at a hardware store and I went there on the weekends to help out and let me tell you, marble wasn't exactly the cheapest material on the market.

The front door led directly into the sitting room. The furniture looked pretty new and a small opening led to a kitchen on the right.

We were the only ones in the house. I wondered if he lived alone but I didn't get the chance to ask because Emilio was nowhere to be found.

"You can stay in the room upstairs, second door on the right, shouted Emilio. It sounded as if he was around the back.

I grabbed my bags and ascended the tiled stairs.

I followed Emilio's directions and made my way towards my soon to be room. I stood for a moment contemplating whether or not I should enter. I hesitantly turned the silver knob and pushed the door forward, making my way inside.

The room was pretty large compared to the one back at my dorm. There was a king-sized bed against the wall right beside the door and there was a  television on the wall opposite the bed. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. A closet stretched across one wall and there was a small stand beneath the window. Voile valances  covered the glass windows.

I quickly settled in. My mom had packed some clothes in a small knapsack. It turns out Emilio was drunk driving and his family,being as influential as they are, pleaded with the police to let him off with a warning. They got their way but under one condition, I had to stay with him until my arm and healed and the headaches stopped.

There were a small stand beneath the window with what appeared to be a small notebook. I took it in my hand. It looked quite new.

Emilio Frazer
Poetry

Those were the words that graced the front of the book. I decided to take a look inside. I didn't know Emilio did poetry outside of school. This notebook didn't look like the one we were required to use at school.

I gently opened the book and I couldn't believe what I saw next!