“Oh, uh…” Mitch scratches his hair while his frown forms. “I think my nonexistent roommate has a fake.”

“Q has a fake ID?!” My shock jolts him upright in his seat. 

“Yeppers, but he didn’t drink with us.” He sounds so disappointed that I sideline my million questions about how the hell the redhead pulled that off, and glance over at Maya.

“Uh, so his roommate-”

“Are you having roomie problems?!” 

Aaaand she’s all over it.

“Well…” Mitch scrunches his nose and glances across the dining hall where said roommate is eating scrambled eggs at a corner table with a stack of textbooks and no one else. “He’s nice and stuff, he’s just never in the room and I really want us to be friends.”

“Aww.” Maya follows his gaze, then drums her fingers on her wallet while she ponders the kid trying to study. “That’s one I haven’t spoken to yet. So he’s shy?” She shoots me a discerning look and stills her incessant tapping. “You called him ‘Q,’ so...must mean you’ve been fraternizing with him somewhat.”

“Can you chill? He’s in my lifting group, sheesh.” I roll my eyes and her shoulders tense. “He’s never used a weight room before, so Scott put him with me and I’ve been helping him out.” 

“Must be nice.” Mitch’s tone dives as he continues to stare longingly at his roommate. 

“Have you had any kind of conversation with him yet?” Maya tugs on his finger until he turns back to our table. 

“I mean, just like casual things, but then…poof! He’s gone somewhere. I’m starting to think he’s got a late night lady friend or something.”

“Ooooh, scandalous!”

“Oh come on, that’s not-” I cut myself off with a fist pressed to my mouth, but it’s much too late to cover up the slip. Damnit.

The way they’re both staring at me now reminds me of a nature documentary I had to watch in high school. It followed a mob of meerkats, and every time they emerged from the burrows with their heads peeking up expectantly at the world, it looked like...this. There’s no way they’re going to let me be.

“Seth.” Maya’s the first to crack. “Spill.” 

“Just don’t assume things like that.” I reach for my juice again, eyeing the pulp gathered along the side of the glass. 

“Sethel.” Her face narrows while she sucks in her cheeks until the bones poke out. “If you keep pretending like you don’t know anything, I’m going to bring him over here and interrogate him.”

“No, please god no!” Mitch’s squeal breaks her threatening demeanor into a classic giggle fit. 

“Just talk to him about it,” I mutter before draining the orange juice. I can’t tell him more because Ethan came to me in confidence about the car incident. “And that’s not my name, so you can bury it right back where it came from.” My chuckle scratches my throat, and I shove Maya’s fingers off my wrist.

“That’s what my RA said, too,” Mitch mumbles under his breath. “I’m just worried he’s got a problem with me-”

“He doesn’t,” I interrupt before he gets himself any more worked up. Ethan should’ve gone straight to Micah. That’s really something his HR should handle.

“Get him to come to the team party tonight!” Maya offers with her focus solely on the sad boy stirring his leftover milk in a cereal bowl. “Friendly invites are good conversation ice-breakers.”

Though Ethan said Quinn promised to sleep in the dorms from now on. 

“Yo.” Maya’s hand appears in front of my face yet again. “Are we cutting into your post-practice nap time or something?” 

~

“What the fuck?” Hank greets me with a scowl as soon as I make it to the third floor.

“Shit!” I scan his impatient stance leaning on the wall next to my room while I check for a pulse on my neck. “Don’t do that to people!” 

“I only texted you about forty times,” he grumbles before stepping to the side so I can unlock my door. 

“Sorry, I-we did Pod breakfast after practice.” I explain under my breath as I jiggle the key until it finally moves. 

“It’s past noon.” 

“Yeah, well-” I snap my mouth closed and shoot him a glare before swinging the door open. “I had an errand to run afterwards.”

“Oh…?” Hank scoffs and walks right on in ahead of me. “Was it buying a new phone ‘cause apparently yours doesn’t work?” 

“Funny.”

“I know.” 

“The sound was off, so-”

“Seth.” His arms swing into a tight hold across his lean form as those dark eyes narrow on my face. “Why didn’t you tell me about you and Leigh?” 

I avert my attention to unloading my wallet and car keys onto my desk, but the simple task doesn’t take quite long enough for him to back down. 

“It just happened yesterday-”

“So?!” 

“How do you even know?” I pull out my chair and fall gracelessly into the seat, having forgotten for a moment that my legs are incredibly sore from the weight room circuit on Friday. 

Hank spares me a glance, wearing that expression he puts on sometimes that makes it seem like he’s smelling something foul. “I ran into her when I was out getting supplies for tonight,” he mutters rather tightly.  

I pretend not to notice his eyes on me, and instead watch while he basically leaps onto the blanket covering the small couch I’ve got set against the wall. Lucky bastard isn’t even sore yet. The divers have a separate coach than the swimmers, which makes absolute sense with how different our sports are. Yet we’re all one team. There’s usually tension between the groups, but Hank Yoo and I have been tight since we were freshmen roommates. It took about six months for us to rise above our clashing personalities and realize we could actually help each other feel less isolated on the team. I thought high school athletics in Kentucky had prepared me for college, but it’s a different challenge when you don’t have the familiarity of home waiting for you at the end of every day.