Chapter 4: Masked Crushes and Unspoken Truths

Alex shivered. “This place feels haunted.”

His breath fogged in the air. I hugged myself, teeth chattering, trying not to look scared too.

I tried to be positive. “It’s fine, look at the big window—” I opened the curtains and found a huge crucifix taped to the glass. Yeah, no.

I stared, speechless. Alex looked ready to bolt.

Alex gulped. “If I live here, you’ll never see me again.”

His eyes darted around, like he was waiting for a zombie to pop out of the closet.

The next place was basically a closet with a door. Alex had to duck just to get inside.

We both burst out laughing. The “bedroom” was barely big enough for a yoga mat, let alone a bed.

Third place, we heard squeaking. A rat the size of a chihuahua scurried past. I clung to Alex; he half-carried me out.

I screamed, leaping onto his back. He yelped, nearly dropping me. We didn’t stop running until we hit the street, breathless and shaking.

He set me down outside, eyes huge. “I just saw a spider the size of my fist!”

He shuddered, arms locked tight across his chest. I tried to catch my breath, still laughing.

I burst out laughing, tears streaming down my face.

Tears streamed down my face. "This is a nightmare," I wheezed, but somehow, it felt like a sitcom.

We finally raised the budget and found a decent little apartment. My bank account was screaming in protest.

I signed the lease with trembling hands. Alex did a happy dance in the empty living room, arms in the air.

Alex was thrilled. “Don’t worry, I’ll work hard to get you home soon!”

He spun around, grinning so wide I thought his face would split. I couldn’t help but smile back.

To keep things simple, I moved out of the dorm and in with Alex. Honestly, it felt like the right move.

I packed up my things in one trip, the dorm RA giving me a knowing wink. "Roommate troubles?" she teased. "Something like that," I replied, rolling my eyes.

Turns out, Alex was a total kitchen wizard. Every morning, I’d wake up to bacon and eggs, pancakes, and a fridge so well-stocked it put my old dorm to shame.

He even labeled the leftovers. Breakfast became the highlight of my day—something I actually looked forward to.

After a week of this, I patted his head. “You’re a real homemaker.”

He ducked away, cheeks going bright red. "Just doing my part," he mumbled.

He grinned. “Just paying back rent.”

He winked, flipping a pancake like a pro. I grinned back, feeling—strangely—at home.

“What’s for breakfast?”

I sniffed the air, stomach growling. "Smells amazing."

He set down a plate. “French toast and hash browns.”

The toast was golden, dusted with cinnamon sugar. My mouth watered just looking at it.

He handed me a fork, eyes shining. “Try it.”

He waited, watching me like a contestant on Chopped. The suspense was real.

I took a bite. “Wow, this is amazing!”

I closed my eyes, savoring the taste. It was better than anything I’d ever had at a diner, hands down.

He laughed, taking a bite himself.

He looked proud, cheeks red as strawberries. "Glad you like it," he said, voice soft.

But then I noticed something weird on my plate. “What’s this?” I poked at it. It had legs. And antennae. Oh, no.

I leaned in, squinting. My fork froze mid-air. No way.

“AHHH! Cockroach!” I shrieked, flinging it across the room.

My chair screeched back as I jumped up, nearly knocking over my juice. Panic mode: activated.

Alex looked up, eyes wide as saucers. “Where?!”

He leapt to his feet, face pale as a ghost. I pointed at the plate, speechless.

“In the bowl!” I screamed, bolting for the bathroom.

I slammed the door, heart jackhammering in my chest. I could hear Alex gagging in the kitchen. This was a nightmare.

He followed, looking green as a cartoon villain. “Let me in, I need to puke too!”

He banged on the door, voice desperate. I cracked it open, waving him toward the sink.

We spent the next hour, one at the toilet, one at the sink, both retching and swearing off French toast for life.

I swore off French toast forever. Alex moaned, "I’m never cooking again. Ever."

After that, the only mission was all-out cockroach warfare. We bought every bug trap at Walmart, put them everywhere. Alex stomped on one like he was saving the world. I made him toss the slipper, too.

We made a game out of it—whoever caught the most bugs won. I lost, but Alex let me have the last slice of pizza anyway. True friendship.

Finally, the place was bug-free. Time to get back to the real mission.

We high-fived, exhausted but victorious. I collapsed on the couch, ready to give the whole love mission another shot.

I decided to binge romance movies for research—gotta learn from the best, right? We turned off the lights and queued up Netflix.

We made popcorn, dimmed the lights, and settled in for a marathon. Alex hogged the blanket, but I didn’t even mind.

Twenty minutes in, and we were both lost—who was supposed to end up with whom? No clue.

We kept pausing, bickering over plot twists. "Wait, isn’t she with him?" Alex asked. "No, that’s her brother," I corrected, rolling my eyes.

“What movie is this, anyway?” Alex asked, completely baffled.

He looked genuinely confused, clutching a throw pillow like it was a life preserver.

I told him to just wait. Suddenly, a ghost face popped up on screen. We both screamed and clung to each other like we were in a haunted house.

Popcorn went flying. I buried my face in Alex’s shoulder, my heart racing like crazy.

“What are you playing?” Alex yelled, grabbing my phone. It was a horror movie—never trust those random streaming sites.