11.3

After classes, I ran back to the room Ros and I shared (in a co-ed [terrifying] dormitory [lame] on campus [helpful] which, as you will be pleased to know, had suite bathrooms [thank God]). I burst in the door, ready to ask Ros all the questions. I opened with
"Enrique--"
She closed with
"He's a boy. He's not the only one I find cute, anyway. I'm not you, Cath. I'm not you."


She turned back to her homework, and ended the discussion. I wanted to ask Ros is he the one how can you tell if you like him or not what if things turn out badly what if he hurts you what if you fall in love what if things are more serious than he's just cute what if what if what if? I didn't like to admit to myself that perhaps I thought too much for being so incredibly normal. But Ros is my friend, and I didn't want to disturb her, and she was watching her favorite television series and didn't want to talk to me just yet. So I bit my tongue figuratively and literally and tried to not bleed.
I usually put myself out of the way for Rosalyn. It's the job of a good friend, right? To not drag each other down? So I just didn't ask the questions I didn't have to ask. I just walked into the bathroom. If Rosalyn wasn't in the talking mood, I would just make myself helpful.
It felt so good to clean.
Our suitemates never cleaned ever, and one of them had the longest black hair I had ever seen in my life. She had to braid it to keep it manageable and it took her three times longer in the shower just to wash it, and she had to lift it when she sat down, and it seemed to attack the drain in our shower and litter itself all over the floor. I swear her hair was sentient. I vacuumed first, and then swept up the long trailing hairs from the corners, and then got a piece of toilet paper and grabbed the long long hair as it tried desperately to worm its way down the drain. I flushed it all and then went back under the sink to find the scrub pad and the green hyperclean spray we kept for the shower. I went back and started from the top and worked my way down to the very bottom until I was scrubbing the edge of the drain. The whole shower sparkled like it did in the showroom when it was brand new. I figured nobody would notice or care, but it felt so good to clean. I grabbed a post it note and left it on the shower handle.
"Cleaned at 4:30. Rinse shower before using."
When I was done, Ros saw me come out of the bathroom, and she stood up.
"Supper?"
"Supper."
"Cafe?"
"I hate the cafe, Ros. You know that."
"Good. One more reason to go. If you never stretch yourself, you'll grow up old and lonely and covered in catfur."

It was a good day. I met Enrique, who wasn't nobody, and Ros thought was cute. I cleaned the shower. Ros and I had a competition to see who could eat their peas with a knife faster. I won. We laughed too loudly, but only twice.
It was a good day.