CHAPTER 18

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Aaron

Thirty minutes later I am walking up the stairs to Ellie and Lexie's dormitory. I am armed with a food and ice cream packet on one and am talking to Ellie on the phone on the other hand, confirming their dorm room.

I reach the room number 206 nd knock on the door. There isn't any blood-curling shrieks or the cries of a banshee audible, so I guess it's safe. There's just a slight muffled noise coming from other side of the door; most probably a TV.

When I hear no response, I knock again, louder this time, "Lexie I know you're in there, open up!"

I bite back a smile and wait for the response I know is coming in 3...2...1

"Go away! I am not in the mood."

"Nice try. Open up!"

I hear a shuffling and the door opens up slightly a minute later. Lexie peeks through it and if looks could kill, I would be charred ash right now. Nolipstick, her lips are pink, but they are the kind of plump and pink that comesfrom crying a lot or kissing a lot, not from lipstick. Her hair is hangingbehind her in a low pony and her cheeks have tear stains

"What do you want?"

I fix her with a grin, "I am here to make you happy, my princess, my ray of sunshine."

"Alright, you're probably deaf, so I will say it again," Lexie takes a deep breath, "I am not in the mood. Go away."

She tries to slam the door on my face, but years of hockey have trained my reflexes for this exact moment. I jam my foot in the space between the closing door and the pane and grit my teeth, "I have a surprise for you."

Lexie squints her eyes at me, "What?"

"Let me in."

"To the point Golden boy, what's the surprise?"

I jiggle the Ben and Jerry's packet in front of her and her eyes shoot up in surprise. "Alright, hand them over."

"Well, Officer," I reply dryly, "Not until you let me in."

"Why? You give the ice cream, I am happy and you're free to go anywhere, it's a win-win situation," She shoots me an encouraging smile.

"Hard pass, I will get in or I am taking the ice cream back."

"You're a jerk," Lexie pouts.

I wink and nudge her playfully, "I know."

She opens the door to let me in and I scan her dorm room; the main room has a beige couch, and a medium-sized TV attached to the wall, with a tiny center table in the, well, center. There is a show going on which is paused now. Two doors are attached to the opposite blue wall, which probably opens up to both of their bedrooms.

Lexie plops down on the couch from behind, in an impressive show of flexibility and a jump, and pats the seat beside her, signaling me to sit.

I do as I am told, and Lexie snatches the packet from my hands, "What flavours did you bring?"

"Mango, your favourite." I fix her with a grin.

Her eyes light up momentarily before she squints at me, "How do you know that?"

I shrug. "I have my sources."

Ellie. Ellie is my source.

"Okay stalker." She rolls her eyes at me but her lips are quirked up in a smile, "What did you bring for yourself? I am not sharing."

"You're pretty selfish. Mint."

She makes a gagging notion with her face, "Should've just eaten toothpaste if you wanted to eat mint ice-cream."

"Wow, you were probably the high school bully," I feign a gasp and put my hand over my mouth.

"Not the bully, I was the sassy one."

She rips open her carton's lid and takes more than enough in one bite, "Slow down tiger, ice cream's not going anywhere."

"If you're not really," she takes another bite and shivers, "Giving yourself a brain freeze, are you really living?"

"Yes, sunshine, yes you are."

"Weak."

"You're literally killing yourself with ice cream."

She points her spoon at me, "Name a better way to die."

"I don't know," I say exasperated, "Sleeping pills."

"Meh, where's the fun in that?"

"Where's the fun in dying?" I snicker.

"Not that you die of brain freeze, going out while eating ice cream sounds the best, who wants go out while lying on a bed."

"Sleeping is cure."

"Sleeping is boring!" Lexie grunts. "it's like, 'Oh look! I am tired, guess I will just stop bodily functions and play dead for eight fucking hours!' and it being a necessity is such a mandatory waste of time."

If I haven't already said this before, I am saying it now, Alexis Forte is one of the most entertaining people of all time and I don't think I have met anyone who's funnier than her or will ever meet one. She keeps a conversation going and interesting by talking about how stupid sleeping is. No one can beat that.

"Shut up Blondie," I reach out and tug at her ponytail, "Sleeping is one of the most elite things humans do."

"You're a chicken."

"I can stay without sleep you know." Terrible idea. I shouldn't be subjecting myself to this form of torture. It's worse than the medieval rack.

"Wanna bet?" Lexie gives me a puppy- eye and her voice takes on a softer and sweeter undertone.

"Yes," I blurt out before I can even think about it.

Gone are the puppy-eyes, she's giving me a glance-over and snickers, "You have a gambling problem, do you know that?"

"Shut up and tell me why you were crying," I grunt.

"You're such a buzzkill," Lexie pouts, "My favorite character died, nothing big."

"Of course it is a big deal! Characters dying is the worst feeling."

I didn't lock myself up in a room for hours and cried until my eyes bled, but I still understand the pain of your favorite fictional characters dying; I am a reader, and I know what attachment to fiction is.

She mumbles something incoherently and brings her knees up to her chest. She has stopped crying by now and I don't want her to start again. Her eyes are not red anymore but they are still puffy and there are tear stains on her cheeks. She looks pretty as always, but something seems amiss. She doesn't look like my usual Lexie; crying really doesn't suit her.

"Who died?"

"Francis, he wa-"

"I know he is," I interrupt her, "I have seen the show."

Her eyes light up at that piece of information, like a child seeing a shiny new toy, "You have!?"

"Yes, and honestly? I pegged you for a Damon Salvatore girl, not some surfer boy king. You have terrible taste in men." I make a disgusted face at her and start laughing at how offended she looks.

"Damon Salvatore is my husband! And Francis has good hair, and I don't have shitty-" she gives me a cheeky grin, " Well, If you look at my ex-boyfriend, I guess I do have shitty taste."


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I said what I said about mint ice cream. Don't @ me.

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