Stubborn

As days go by, my heart grows cold
I can't seem to let this all pass me by
So take me and let me in
Don't break me and shut me out

“So, you’re going to be acting like a guy...” Emma was sitting casually on her bed, a psychology book propped open on her bent knees.

I slid my jacket off and hung it on the back of my desk chair. “How could you possibly know that?” I demanded, exasperated. Emma always knew everything and it was really starting to get on my nerves. Between her and Aaron, nothing was kept a secret for long.

She smirked and looked up from her book. “You were trying to hide it from me, weren’t you?” I didn’t answer because the answer was obvious. She knew it, I knew it. I dropped my bag on the ground, cringing as the sound of metal hit the floor. My iPod, no doubt. Could things get any worse? Just then, Aaron came walking out of our washroom with nothing but his boxers on. I rolled my eyes and slapped my hand to my forehead. This was the biggest problem with having a roommate in a serious relationship; there was no knowing when the boyfriend would be over, half naked, using the washroom and inevitably leaving the toilet seat up. These two were like rabbits.

He plopped next to Emma on the bed. “So, when are we going to see the role reversal?”

I grunted, sitting down in my computer chair and turning on my laptop. “Does everybody know?” I moaned. “And I thought Jordan would keep this quiet for a little longer than a day.”

“Ha!” Emma screeched. “And risk being proven wrong by having no one watch your every move?” I spun around in the chair to face her. “Come on, Alex. You gotta give the guy a bit more credit. He knows what he’s doing.” Sadly. Jordan was a winner. That’s what he did; it was his job. Cunning, agility, strategy – he had it all under his belt and behind his confident smirk. And me? Well, I was a writer who could mould words to my liking or bend a plot to create an interesting story, but really didn’t know how to act one out.

“Great,” I replied sarcastically. “So while I have you breathing down my neck Jordan is left free.” I folded my arms over my chest, staring at the bright screen of my computer. ‘I shouldn’t have agreed to this’, was my first thought. But then I realized that no one was holding a gun to my head; I could call this whole twisted bet off if I wanted to and go back to my old life without cocky hockey players. But what would that prove? That I was wrong. I hated being wrong. However, I also hated being humiliated, which was undoubtedly going to happen if I went through with this. I was torn between humiliation and pity. Which one was worse?

“You could ask Max,” Aaron interjected. I swivelled in the chair aggressively, stopping only when the back hit the desk with a bang. He lay next to Emma, playing with a lock of his dark hair. His eyes snapped to me, probably noticing the crazy look in my eyes.

“That’s brilliant,” I said and he smiled. “I think you might be a genius, Aaron.” He smiled even broader now and Emma shook her head hopelessly. “Max was telling me how much he hated Jordan dragging him out to clubs. What a better way to get even with him than cock blocking him every chance he gets?”

Aaron furrowed his brow, dampening my happy mood. “How do you know he’ll do it? I mean, they’re team mates. You know – bros before hoes and stuff.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I sincerely hope you’re not calling me a hoe.” He shook his head apologetically. “Give me your phone.” He reached over to Emma’s bedside table and tossed the phone to me. I quickly slid it open and began searching for Max’s name. Once I found it, I pressed the call button and stood up with the phone to my ear. Aaron was just about to ask me what I was doing, but I shooed him off and walked as far away from the two of them as possible in the small dorm room.

“Hello?” The slight French accent made me smile, half because I was glad Max picked up and the other half because he was the kind of person that could make you smile instantaneously.

I crossed my free arm over my chest and turned away from Aaron’s confused glare, as though that was going to give me more privacy. “Hey, Max, it’s Alex.”

“Oh, hey!” I heard him exclaim with a small laugh.

I chuckled. “I hope you don’t mind me calling. Aaron gave me your number.”

The chime of pots and pans was clearly audible in the background. I assumed he was in his kitchen, shuffling around in search of something to make. It was a strange thought, a hockey star playing the role of a chef. “No problem,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Well...” I hadn’t fully considered how awkward it would be to ask Max for a favour after only knowing him a few days. “I have a favour to ask.” I quickly ran through everything that had happened between Jordan and I to this day, ending the tedious story at the night at the club when our bet was made. He laughed throughout the whole thing, making me optimistic in his agreement to help me. Once I was finished, without hesitation he said he would be happy to help me; an amused tone to his husky voice. Jordan must be really annoying to have his own teammates plotting against him, willing to rat him out if he ever asked for a girl’s number or a one night stand.

Triumphantly, I snapped Aaron’s phone shut and spun around to face the disgustingly happy couple as they sat side by side on Emma’s bed. “He agreed,” I said jubilantly.

Emma furrowed her brow. “What exactly did he agree to?”

I plopped back down in my desk chair and tossed Aaron’s phone to him. “To basically keep me in the loop of every indiscretion Jordan has when I’m not around.” I smiled, wickedly. “Wow, I feel like a CIA agent.” I leaned back in the chair, basking in the feeling of euphoria from inevitably winning this bet.

Aaron ruffled his hair and sat up in the bed. “Don’t you think you’re –”

“I really can’t take you seriously without a shirt on,” I interrupted. Leaning over, I grabbed his crinkled black shirt from the ground and threw it to him.

He caught in then quickly slipped it on before continuing. “Don’t you think you’re going a little too far with this?”

I scowled. He was really bringing my mood down. “With what? Proving that all women aren’t the same?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. I mean – you only just met Jordan. This kinda stuff can get messy when it’s not with friends.”

“Ugh,” I moaned, slumping in the chair. “You’re such a party pooper, Aaron. I’m glad it’s not with a friend because once this is over – once I win –” I smiled, “then everything can go back to the way it was.”

“Whatever,” he and Emma said simultaneously.

I rolled my eyes and stood up to pack my laptop into my bag. “I’m going to go study at Starbuck’s or something. Call me when you two are done – you know –” I gestured to the messy bed and clothes strewn around the room, “this.”

~

Settling in a comfortable seat by the window of the Starbuck’s only a few blocks down from school, I placed my laptop on the table and raised my feet up onto the opposing chair. I needed to finish a ten page essay by next Thursday on the hidden themes of Flannery O’Connor’s short stories. This was definitely going to be a bitch to write. I took a sip of my coffee, staring determinately at the screen. It was three o’clock now; I could probably have it done in two hours. If I didn’t have any distraction, that is.

I pulled out my notebook and pen from my bag and began searching through the notes I had already jotted down. Starting an essay was always the worst part. I knew that once I got going, it would all be easy from there. I kept the pen between my teeth as I flipped through pages, making stars next to what I thought appropriate to use. As soon as I began typing my thesis statement (always the most annoying part), I noticed somebody in my peripheral next to me. Curiosity always getting the best of me, I looked up to see Jordan towering over me with a coffee in his hand. He wore a light, fall jacket and a crooked smile.

I licked my lips, knowing I wasn’t going to be getting any work done now. “It’s like my prayers have been answered,” I said sarcastically. I sat up straight in my chair, dropping my feet to the ground. Jordan must have taken that as an invitation because he pulled out the empty chair and sat across from me. “What? Are you following me now just to make me miserable?”

He let an airy sound escape his lips, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Uh, no. I was just getting coffee.” He raised the white cup and I nodded. “Thanks for telling Max about our bet, by the way.” His tone had grown darker now, but was still full of that strange humour. “The guy has been dogging me all day.”

I smirked. “Thanks for telling Emma,” I retorted.

He brought the cup to his mouth, took a swig, and then placed it back down on the table whilst licking away cream from his top lip. “I didn’t tell Emma. I told Aaron. There are just some guys that can’t keep anything from their girlfriends.”

“It’s called an ‘honest relationship’,” I said with an eye roll.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Like you would know.”

I ran a hand through my dark locks aggressively. With only four words, Jordan knew how to piss me off. “I’ve had relationships,” I said with an edge to my tone.

He nodded slowly, spreading his lips in a smile to reveal his teeth. “Right...” His light eyes remained firmly on my face, as though studying me. “So, what are you working on?”

The sudden subject change caught me off guard. “Uh...an English paper.”

“Is it anything I can help with?” He actually seemed sincere in his offer.

I paused for a moment. “Do you know anything about Flannery O’Connor?” He shook his head and let out a melodic chuckle. I cracked a smile, regretfully. He wasn’t allowed to be like this; annoying and cocky one second, then friendly the next. It just confused me.

He leaned back in the chair, his long legs hitting mine from beneath the table. I kind of wondered what it looked like to see him – Jordan Staal at six foot whatever – standing next to me. His head swivelled from side to side as he gave the nicely decorated room a once over. From where I sat, the soft afternoon sun cascaded through the big window, hitting him on the side of the face, giving him a different appearance – a softer one. There was a long silence between us, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think Jordan and I were just two friends having coffee together. He ran a few fingers through his light locks then took the sleeve off of his coffee cup and began tearing it to shreds absentmindedly. It was as though he was content with the silence.

I looked down at his now bare cup and noticed small letters scrawled on the side in black marker. I leaned closer over the table to get a better look and Jordan noticed, looking down after me. On his cup was the name ‘Heather’ and underneath, a phone number.

“Oh ho ho,” I chortled, leaning back in the chair and letting a bemused smile spread on my lips. “Looks like you have an admirer, Mr. Staal.” His head immediately shot up to the counter where a girl with light brown hair waved at him timidly. I titled my head to the side, feigning sympathy. “Too bad you can’t act on it.”

Jordan stared at the girl for a little while longer then faced me. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

I flashed a smile. “You have no idea.”