Are You Just Bad News?

A couple days later, and I was hurrying to get to class. I was late, yet again, and I really didn’t need any backlash from my professor today.

I’d had a nightmare last night, which is why I was late in the first place (overslept…or dreamt. Whatever you’d prefer). And it was about Jeff, something I didn’t really need to think about while I was here.

Jeez, I thought school would be some type of distraction – but it’s obviously not.

I struggled to pull on a Victoria’s Secret PINK hoodie over my sleep tank, not having any time to get dressed properly. After sliding into some dark blue Hollister jeans and putting on some deodorant and perfume, I grabbed some flip flops, my bag, and my keys.

Slamming the door behind me, I stumbled out the hall and down the stairs. I took out my phone from my hoodie pocket, eager to see how many more minutes I had until I was really late, when I bumped right into someone.

This someone had a very hard and skinny chest, covered in a dark gray v-neck t-shirt.

I mean really, what man wears v-neck t-shirts!

Horrified, I looked up to see a small chin, with a little indent in the middle. Pointy nose, handsome features, and murky brown eyes that matched his shoulder-length hair, he stared down at me with confusion etched in his eyes.

“Uh, hi?”

“Um, William! Hi, sorry to bump into you, I’m a tad bit late and…”

“Whatever,” Will grumbled. “Just don’t do it again.”

And with that, he was up the stairs. I stared back at him incredulously, shocked he had even thought of speaking to me that way. I mean, I do admit, I did bump into him like an idiot and insulted him in my head.

But he didn’t know about the latter.

I shook my head, trying to erase the intense look of his beautiful colored eyes out of my mind before I remembered:

Art! Class!

[Time Elapse]

I sighed as I threw down my pencil. I felt fairly stupid, I couldn’t even do still art, and my mind was elsewhere.

Like home. Like on Jeff. On my best friend, Danielle.

I didn’t want to concentrate on that kind of stuff, but it always seemed to be in the back of my mind.

Even when I was supposed to be drawing a grapevine with grapes, an apple, two pears, and an oddly shaped banana.

I frowned and stood up from the study, going through the bathroom to my room to see what Mr. Dandy was up to. But when I’d reached the room, I realized he wasn’t even in there.

A nice pile of clothes in the hamper was though, and I got the brilliant idea to wash my clothes.

After gathering the rest of my clothes, scattered at odd areas in my room, the clothes detergent or whatever, the house keys and my phone, I headed down to the basement.

Two days after I’d moved in, and I’d 'bumped into' Mike for like, the tenth time, he’d informed me about the basement. It was a floor down from the front 'lobby', if that’s what you wanna call it. It was a cold, dingy area, filled with four washers and four dryers.

Unbeknown to me, there were actually other inhabitants to this building, that used it as well. Silly me, I’d thought only Mike, Will, Adam, Andy (the two who I had still yet to meet), and maybe Adam’s Uncle lived here.

Either way, Mike said that’s where the band practiced and stuff, and had their 'equipment' locked away in a storage room. He also informed me if I heard random blurts of music, they were downstairs and I should probably come down.

Yeah, right.

As I headed down the stairs, I heard two of the washers going, and a lingering feeling of fear crept up my spine. Was I actually going to meet someone else that lived here? I was nervous, anxious, and eager all at the same time, but it all faded away as soon as I’d left the last step and walked in.

Standing in front of the washers, foot stamping impatiently as he hummed a random song, stood none other than William Beckett himself.

I sighed, “Hello William.”

God, why’d I have to be such a ditz and bump into him today?

He barely glanced over at me as I walked behind him towards the other washer, and dropped the basket on top.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he finally said, taking a cold hard look at me.

I gulped and chuckled nervously. I wasn’t sure what exactly it was about Beckett, but he made me nervous inside. Another person seemed to take over me whenever he was around (yeah, the like, 3 times I’ve ever seen him), a person I didn’t really know.

And/or like.

After depositing my clothes into the washer and dripping some liquid detergent on top, I closed it and reached over to turn it on.

“Have you been like, stalking me or something?” William randomly snapped, causing me to look away from the washer and gawk at him.

“W-what?”

“’Cause like, you bumped into me this morning and shit, and then when I came upstairs, fuckin’ Mike was gushing about you a little later. And now I come down to do the wash, and here you come.”

I gave him a dry laugh, “Wow, great conclusion you’ve come to there, Will. But in case you’ve forgotten, I kinda live here too…I’m gonna come down to wash my clothes sometime.”

See what I mean when I said another person takes over?

“Whatever,” he muttered, looking down at my legs.

Which reminded me, why couldn’t I put some pants on before I’d gone downstairs? Did I have to go down in the shortest pair of shorts Victoria’s Secret probably manufactures, and yet another small tank top?

“Legs,” I pointed out, breaking him from his stare. “They’re attached to my body.” I then proceeded to kick him a little. “You’ve got ‘em too.”

“Thanks,” Will snarled, and I raised an eyebrow at him. The washer pinged, alerting him that the clothes were done washing. He threw the door open, digging inside for the clothes as he transported them to the dryer. I turned my own machine on and kept watching Will, as he slammed the door closed and turned the machine on.

“You know you’re supposed to empty the lint tray before you turn it on?” I asked, and his cold, hard stare looked back at me.

What was it with this guy and that look?

“I don’t care,” he mumbled, and with that he stormed out of the washroom.