Match Made in Quarantine

32. Day Twelve

Even when I slept, I couldn't escape him.

He plagued my dreams like a virus, and the irony of that in our current situation was almost funny. I'd avoided the new filovirus but been infected with a strain of Maddoxitis.

Ugh, I'm such a dork.

I covered my eyes with my forearm trying to steel my resolve to go out of my room for a coffee and food run. My stomach was protesting yesterday's not even remotely nutritious meal of four sandwiches. The problem was that I just felt tired. Even though I'd slept for 9 hours, it was like I didn't get any rest at all. Or maybe it was the thought of having to avoid him again that instantly drained me of any energy I'd accumulated.

You don't have to avoid him...

Oh, but I did. There was no other option for me. Knowing him before quarantine, I just couldn't see him being happy with one person in the long run. I'd grown to trust him as a person, even as a friend, but trusting him with my heart? That was a whole other thing entirely.

Just a little longer and then things will go back to normal....

As soon as I thought that, I felt a strong wave of nausea pass through me. What did normal even mean? Was normal him bringing girls home every night, and me having to studying while listening to the soundtrack of him having sex? The mere thought of that made my chest clench and filled me with an unusual anger that burned through my veins like fire.

No, that wasn't anger. It was the emotion I felt when I was younger and saw everyone playing with their best friends, talking about first boyfriends, having sleepovers.

It was jealousy, envy. Only now it was a hundred times worse.

Yeah, there was no way I could still live here after the quarantine. But, at the same time the thought of leaving and never seeing him again filled me with equally strong sadness.

I let out a bitter chuckle, reminded of a popular saying.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

********

As soon as I heard the shower turn on, I scurried out of my room like a frightened mouse. I knew I should have at least ten to fifteen minutes before he was done so I had to be fast.

Only I forgot about the fact that if I was a mouse, then Maddox was surely a cat, and cats were smart. Very smart.

When I'd reached the kitchen, the shower abruptly turned off and I instantly went into a panic.

How would he have showered in 30 seconds? Okay, whatever, at least he'd need to get dressed—

Within four seconds, Maddox was out of the bathroom, fully clothed and dry. That's when I realized I'd been tricked.

Did he know I was avoiding him? No, there was no way he would know that. As far as he knows I was just busy studying, right?

I poured myself a cup of coffee and, considering my plans of making some actual food were now ruined, resolved myself to another sandwich day. My hands shook as I spread butter onto the bread, extremely aware that his eyes were intently focused on me.

"Hey," he said, and a shiver ran through me at the sound of his voice. Ah, I missed him. "What are you doing?"

Despite how amused and upbeat his voice usually sounded, now it was cold, strict, resolute.

"Making a sandwich." I stated without looking at him, afraid of what his face would look considering how he sounded.

"That's not what I'm asking," he said, slowly.