Drabble: Room Mate 2

Numair now knows Daine as Dane. Thanks to Dolphine Dreamer and Starling Rising for telling me that Daine is also a guy's name. Do you guys mean Dane or Daine? But anyway, Daine will be spared from being called Day and all corresponding jokes that come along with such a name.

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The worst thing about pretending to be a boy is realising that... you don't have to really change much of yourself to pretend. My normal gear of jeans, t-shirts, sneakers, and cap (till my horrible haircut grows out) did everything to make me appear as those gangly boys. My modest figure was engulfed in my clothes. I needed to wear a sports bra to compress my less than generous assets or be more cautious when Numair was around, but other than that....

'Geez Daine, you should be happy that you are not thoroughly inconvenienced by the whole thing.' Looking at my room, there was really nothing much to hide really. I don't like pink, furry or cute stuff. I like books, archery, and animals. Animals as in not cute furry puppies or kittens, but animals in general - from lowly lizards to gruff bears. I don't wear jewellery, I don't even have ear holes. So all I needed to hide was my undergarments, sanitary pads and my paltry collection of skirts and dresses that were all foisted on me by well-meaning friends and relatives. Even my toiletries in the common bathroom, they were not pretty scented things. But practical bars of soap, cheap shampoo and sturdy towels bought from the Salvation Army. I winced, it is not that I like being feminine, but still, whatever sort of feminine pride I had was hurt that all the things my friends and relatives have been telling me all these years were true... I am like a boy.

I had scrutinised myself thoroughly in the mirror with a jaundiced eye, trying to see anything that would scream "looky here! girl girl!". Sadly enough, nothing. Unless I wore something more fitting, I was safe. The most girlish feature I had were probably my eyes. My one redeeming feature. Blue-grey, big, lined with thick extravagant eyelashes. I had a stubborn chin that counteracted this and briefly contemplated cutting my eyelashes. But decided that since Numair was scarcely going to look deeply into my eyes, it was not worth the hassle. Though I'm not too sure how long it normally takes for eyelashes to grow out though.

It helped that Numair had his own bathroom, since it was the master bedroom. Evin and I shared a bathroom, which was fine, since he knew better than to walk in on me and I locked the door. The only irritating habit he had was leaving the toilet seat up, but knew it would appear queer to Numair if I ever railed to Evin about that.

Living with Numair was surprisingly easy. Evin told me that golden rule number one was to never touch Numair's readings or anything remotely academic in the house. Numair was messy, but very organised. I don't know the distinction, but apparently Numair knew where everything in the house was. So no touching of papers. Fair enough. Evin told me how Numair nearly strangled Jonathan when he had threw away some piece of important research Numair was reading which was wedged between some magazines.

I think if girls knew about me living with Numair, they would die of jealousy. But please... this is sooo not like those soap operas or cheesy romance novels... I am not a drop dead voluptuous beauty in disguise or did chemistry fly between us. Nah. Numair was a rather private, polite person and I didn't seem much of him. He was preparing his thesis and most of the time was spent in the libraries or in his room. I think. I think because I don't ask him where he goes or what time he'll be back and neither did he concern himself of my affairs. Evin told me that Numair had to submit his report of his thesis, so was exceptionally anti-social during this period and told me not to worry if Numair was not too friendly. It was not that he was mean, he was just preoccupied.

With that thought, I made my way towards the table with my dinner - a bowl of cereal- when I suddenly stumbled over something. "CRAP!" I cursed as the milk sloshed over the bowl. I looked down and nearly died when I realised I had stumbled and spilt milk over a pile of papers. "Oh no, please, please let it be Evin's dirty magazines," I groaned and immediately grabbed tissue to dab at the papers. To my horror, it was about the genetics, the familiar helical shapes of the DNA and RNA stared at me. Ah crap, why did I have to eat colourful fruit loops and not just plain cornflakes!?! Colour was smeared on the papers and I fought to keep myself calm. "It's alright Daine, just try to find where he photocopied the research and make another copy, he'll never realise the difference." I glanced at the clock, it was seven thirty. "Crap! The library closes at ten, I better run to find where this extract is from!" I carefully looked at the extract and tried to find some clue as to what book it is from, on the right-hand corner, Numair had scrawled "Vaunter, 1943, 1st ed". I grabbed my wallet and shoes and ran out into the darkness.

I think my physical education teacher would have been so proud of me, I sprinted all the way to the university's library, only to find that the first ed was only available at the Medicine library at the other end of campus, which led me sprinting to there as well. The campus bus was too infrequent at night and I couldn't risk not photocopying the materials in time. What happened if Numair needed the materials for his report? I just trampled the golden rule and didn't want to get kicked out. Money was tight as it is and I did not fancy having to forfeit any rental deposit. I literally begged the librarian to let me finish photocopying the extract before she closed the library. I definitely owed her chocolate brownies, as I had the unhappy misfortune of spilling over quite a considerable extract of Vaunter and Numair had taken them from different parts of the book. It was nearly midnight when I wheezed my way back into the apartment to see Numair frowning and looking at my bowl of cereal that I had left on the table.

Ah crap. He looked up at me when I made a panting entrance. "Dane," Numair said. "Are you alright? You look like you're going to hyperventilate."

My legs trembled as I forced myself to stumble forward. "I, I'm so sorry Numair. Don't kill me. Please. I'm small. Little. I don't know any martial arts. I, I Photostatted it. It's pristine and new." My fingers trembled as I had held out the papers to him. I didn't dare look at him as he moved closer. 'Don't cry Daine,' I thought, but emotion just welled up in me. I blinked rapidly, my hands were literally shaking, half from cold and fear.

Numair took the papers from me, tugging it gently away from my trembling fingers. I could hear him flipping through the papers. "What happened?" he asked neutrally.

"I, I I was going to eat my dinner and, stumbled and the milk just spilt. It was an accident honest! I tried to photocopy it as soon as possible. Really! Really! I ran to the central library and found it wasn't there, then ran to the medicine library because the bus wasn't coming till later. Then ran around the library searching for it, to find it was on the loan trolley and I ran back.... Sorry..." I stammered. My stomach growled embarrassingly.

I blinked rapidly and tried to peak at Numair who was looking at me with this weird expression on his face. When he saw my eyes, he looked alarmed and he reached over and ruffled my hair. "It is alright Dane. I was looking for the research, but you've Photostatted it. No harm done. I don't know what Evin told you about me, but you don't need to feel... so overwrought."

'Oh crap. He realised I was about to cry and for a guy to cry it's like something major or he's a sissy!' I thought in alarm. "Uh no, I'm just cold, that's all, sinus and all. I was out since seven thirty."

"Seven thirty? In this?" He gestured towards what I was wearing, which was just t-shirt and Bermudas. He touched my arm and found it ice cold. "Daine! You're freezing!" I blushed and my stomach growled demandingly again. "Come on, you better eat dinner..." then paused as he glanced thoughtfully at my bowl. "and you really shouldn't be eating cereal for dinner."

"It's ok," I said. "I'm not hungry." My stomach growled in denial and I blushed. "I, I only like cereal and that was my last bowl, so I'll just wait till tomorrow," I prevaricated.

"It is nearly one in the morning," Numair said glancing at the majestic grandfather clock. "We can call in pizza."

"Uh no," I said, "Er... I don't like pizza."

"Or we can go somewhere else to eat," Numair responded. "I feel a tad hungry myself."

"It's ok really," I mumbled.

"You're that scared of me?" he asked.

"Well..." I went a deeper shade of red, if that was possible. "My budget is rather tight at the moment. Since we just had to pay our school fees. But don't worry about rent! My pay check from my job at the bookstore is coming soon, so I'll be able to pay."

"I can..." Numair was about to offer.

"Oh no, it's ok really," I said. "I am used to it. I'm from sturdy stock! I should lose weight anyway, I'm getting fat." I quickly escaped into my room as I heard Numair open the fridge. Numair had a massive fridge, and Evin had pointed out which racks on the fridge belonged to me, his and Numair's. I know mine was embarrassingly empty except for a carton of milk, so was my space in the food cupboard.

I crawled into the room cocoon of my blankets. I couldn't really afford a comforter or thick blankets, so I just combined four of the threadbare blankets I got from the Cancer Charity shop to cover myself at night. It was warm, and for people who don't know this, what really keeps a person warm under the blanket is the trapped air that acts as insulation against the cold. There's nothing like being on a tight budget for the growth of innovation.

I was feeling warm again when I heard Numair knocking at my door. I crawled out of bed and opened it, “Yeah?”

He grabbed my arm and tugged me to the dinning room. He frowned at how easily his big hands encircled my arm, “You’re too skinny for a boy you know. You should eat more.”

“Yeah, like a stuffed turkey for Christmas dinner,” I retorted.

My nose was assaulted by the strong aroma of food and struggled not to drool, then not gape at the spread on the table – pizzas, soup, garlic bread, chicken wings, pasta.

“Are you having a party?” I asked.

“No, just over-ordered in the fit of hunger,” he said. “I don’t really like to eat alone, come join me.”

My stomach growled in agreement. “I can’t,” I said. “It’s alright really.”

“I really can’t finish the food by myself and it’s such a waste to throw it away,” he said.

“You can keep it for later you know,” I replied.

He looked mildly horrified, “Keep it overnight? Nonsense, you might as well get freshly cooked food. Do you know how much germs accumulate in leftover food?”

I eyed him and refrained from reminding him of all the starving orphans in Africa.

“Or do you hate my company that much?” he asked.

“Er no,” I said and he pushed me down on the couch.

“Then eat,” he said and shoved a slice of pizza at me. So I did.

Although we had hearty appetites (it was so long since I last ate pizza!), we couldn’t finish off the copious amount of food. True to his word, he took the garbage bin and was about to shovel the leftovers when he caught my considering look. “Do you want it? It will save me on disposal costs and the effort to clean up.”

“Alright, I’ll get the Tupperware,” I said and turned to the kitchen. And missed seeing a triumphant grin on his face.