As I sit through the longest pee ever, my gaze wanders around the small bathroom. It’s not much bigger than the one I share with my roommates, but it’s way more organized. On the counter rests one toothbrush, one tube of toothpaste, a can of shaving cream, and a razor. That’s it. Our counter at home has four times as many items, and that’s not including the toothbrushes.
And everything is clean. Like, actually clean. We try to keep ours tidy at home, but with four girls sharing one bathroom, it’s destroyed in a matter of minutes. One of the disadvantages of having only one bathroom with a shower.
When I’m finished, I step back into the living room, and Sam greets me with an eager expression. “Better?”
“Much,” I say, joining him on the couch. “And you did a good job cleaning, by the way.”
“It really wasn’t that hard. Doesn’t get too bad since I live alone.”
“Must be nice not to have roommates, though.”
“I guess.” He shrugs. “Gets kind of lonely sometimes.”
A pang shoots through my heart at how sad he sounds. “Well, you should come clean my bathroom sometime. When you share one with three other girls, things can get messy.”
He chuckles. “But you’ve always got someone to talk to.”
“True. I guess it was a weird adjustment for me. I’m an only child, so I never had to share.”
“Oh, so that’s what’s wrong with you.”
“Excuse me?” I shake my head. I’m not sure what he’s getting at.
“Only child syndrome.” Sam smirks. “See, I know how to share. I grew up with an older brother and a younger sister.”
A sly grin spreads across my face. “Is that why you are the way you are? Middle-child issues?”
He snorts, but doesn’t do anything except keep that stupid adorable smirk going.
“So...” I say, turning my focus toward the computer on the coffee table. “What kind of ideas do you have for the next study session?”
Something resembling disappointment flashes across his face before he flips open his laptop and presses the power button. “I was thinking we could do another game. That seemed to work really well.”
“Yeah, there was a lot of competitiveness going on last night.” Snippets of my classmates hollering at each other and high-fiving their teammates flash in my memory, making me smile. “What kind of game?”
“Similar to Jeopardy,” he says, opening the application. “But this would be a puzzle.” He clicks through a couple of screens and a picture pops up. It’s a jaguar lounging in a tree. “See, we cover this image with a blank page cut into puzzle piece shapes. Each one has a question on it, and if they get it right, the piece slides off.” He taps the keyboard, and a puzzle icon glides across the screen to reveal part of the image underneath. “They keep going until they get a question wrong, and the team that gets the last piece wins.”
“Huh, that’s cool.” I’m genuinely impressed. This is way more intricate than anything I’ve ever done. “How do we keep one team from dominating, though?”
“I figured we could do five puzzles. They don’t take that long to get through, and that way, everyone would get a chance to play.”
“That’s a really good idea.” I’m genuine in my statement. It is a good idea, and the fact that Sam can make such a seamless presentation for it piques my interest. If he can do it, why can’t I?
“I know.”
His arrogance makes me hesitate to ask my next question. “Would you… Would you show me how to put the presentation together?”
Sam’s lips spread into a beaming smile. “You want to learn something? From me?”
“You know what? Forget it.” I huff, grabbing my notebook.
Sam grabs my wrist, the tingle from his touch stopping me in my tracks. “I’ll teach you, if you really want to learn.” His heated stare burns into me.
“I do,” I whisper, swallowing roughly.
We spend the next few hours putting the puzzles together. Selecting the images to use is easy. The process of creating the puzzle isn’t. The questions and answers aren’t the problem; I know all that information backward and forward. The tech side of everything is what gets me.
I can read a textbook, take notes, fill out quizzes, or perform lab experiments without batting an eyelash, but put me in front of a computer and I freeze. It’s like my brain can’t wrap itself around what’s going on. If I can’t see the way it works, I can’t understand it.
