4.
“I knew this shower is going to be a challenge,” I groaned to myself, standing in the little space in front of it. I sighed and stepped in. I didn't really want to shower, with this one being the only option. “What the...” I began after turning on the water. “Fuck,” I completed my sentence. The water jet was 5cm wide, so there was literally no way I would get my whole body wet without squirming under it like a fish out of water. Plus, “too cold,” the water temperature, “toO HOT!” was very hard to control.
“I hate this trip,” I stated, hair still wet. “Why?” Quinton asked, “because of the rooms?” I slumped on my bed. “The shower is useless, small and cold. The whole process was a pain in the ass,” I explained, sighing. “Wait, really? I thought it was pretty ok,” Peter joined, “the stream was pretty wide too, I don't know what you talking about.” I looked at him in confusion, “huh?” Julian caught my attention, speaking up himself, “yea, but I guess it's pretty weird if the other two are occupied, but the showers are really nice man.” I looked back and forth between the two of them, now with an even more confused look. “Others? Showers? Wide stream? Are you saying...” Julian's face showed his surprise. “Wait, did you,” he stopped. “Take the other shower?” Peter finished for him. I had my mouth open in disbelieve. “You. Just. Didn't. Say. There. Are. Other. Showers.” Peter let out a short laugh, “yea man, there are at the right side after you leave our room, you really didn't see them?” “Why didn't you tell me?!” I groaned in annoyance and buried my face into my pillow. “I hate you, god,” I growled. “What?” “Shut up.”
-
But you know what also sucks? Waking up at 7am in a teeny tiny room, with 3 other people, that are all trying to get ready at the same time. And boy, staying up late (1am to be exact) wasn't the best idea either. I groaned as I opened my eyes. I looked at my phone. 6:47am. “Why is it so early?” I asked no one in particular. I closed my eyes again and sighed. Quinton, being the perfect student or human in general, was the first to dress and going to breakfast, with me still laying in bed, questioning my existence.
“The last thing I expected here was good food,” I stated, shoving a croissant in my mouth. But it looked like I spoke too early - “Hot!” I hissed in surprise, as I took a sip of my, well, hot chocolate, burning my tongue in the process. “Great, third degree burns on my tongue for the rest of the week,” I said, putting my drink back down. “Good way to start the day,” I continued. “Come on now, don't exaggerate you,” Peter responded, “it's not that bad.” “Say that when your tongue is half dead!” I snapped back. He sighed, but probably was right, it'll be gone in a day or so. Just my way of letting out my anger and stress, I guess. But these uncomfortable wooden benches and unstable wooden tables didn't really help either.
Just as I was about to take another bite, I noticed something from the corner of my eye, something I really wanted to see, but at the same time didn't. You know, the most important character in this story, after me? (Well, the most important for me, anyway) Yes, Jack. And me, being the before so-told idiot, just sat there, croissant in one hand, mouth open and eyes on Jack. I would slap myself if I could face my past me right now. Though, what made me look away wasn't really my future self, but one of his friends, Gabriel, looking at me a little weird. Can't really blame him when I obviously do look weird, having my gaze looked on his friend like that, mouth open, but not eating.
I quickly averted my eyes and started to eat again, not wanting to look more suspicious than I already did. I didn't look up when they walked past us. I tried to finish my breakfast as fast as possible, but eating a whole baked good in less than half a minute wasn't that easy.
I saw them already returning with their trays of food, as I chugged down my still-too-hot-but-not-that-hot chocolate. I didn't look their way as they passed our table (this time way nearer than when they came from the entrance) to their own.
“What are you looking at now?” I heard Gabriel asking, a little annoyed. “Nothing really,” came Jack's muffled response as I stood up with a quick 'finished' and put away my trash.
I made my way back to my room and fell on my bed, trying to sigh the anxiety away. I was deep in thoughts until my friends came back from breakfast. “We have to be ready at 9am, just so you know,” Quinton informed us. But something else was on my mind, not going away: Does he know?
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