Chapter 55 Don’t Touch Me, Man
'ABOUT TWO WEEKS LATER, AT 6:15 AM. ANDREW’S DORM-ROOM, AFTER HE AND MAGGIE MET AT THE RESTAURANT. ANDREW’S POV.'
The dorm room at 6:15 a.m. smelled of yesterday’s pizza crust, Andrew’s cedarwood cologne, and the faint metallic bite of the radiator that never quite shut off. A single desk lamp burned low on Josh’s side, casting long shadows across the cinder-block walls papered with faded band posters and exam schedules. The window blinds were half-open; early light sliced through in pale grey bars, catching dust motes that drifted like slow snow.
Andrew stood in front of the narrow hanging mirror bolted beside his top bunk, shoulders squared, chin tilted. He wore a crisp white button-up— top two buttons undone, sleeves rolled neatly to the elbows, fabric still holding faint steam-iron creases. Light-brown plaid trousers hugged his thighs and tapered clean at the ankle; dark-brown loafers gleamed under the lamp. A slim steel watch sat on his left wrist; the face caught the light every time he turned his head. He ran both hands slowly through his fresh taper fade— brown curls tight on the sides, longer and textured on top— then smoothed his goatee with thumb and forefinger, checking the edges against his jawline.
He exhaled once— long, steady— then met his own eyes in the mirror. A small, private smile tugged one corner of his mouth upward.
Josh lay face-down on the bottom bunk, sheet tangled around his waist, one arm flung over the edge so his knuckles brushed the carpet. He groaned into the pillow the moment Andrew shifted his weight for the third time in thirty seconds.
“Can you please quit moving around and shut off the fucking light?”
Andrew spun on his heel, grin already blooming. “Yo, you’ve woken up. Check out my outfit.”
Josh didn’t lift his head. “No, I’ve not woken up. I’m still trying to sleep and your moving around is not helping.”
“Please.” Andrew crossed the three steps between beds in one stride and dropped onto the edge of Josh’s mattress, making the frame creak. “Just look for a few seconds and tell me what you feel.”
Josh cracked one eye— barely— then squeezed it shut again. “You look fine. She’s gonna love it.”
Andrew’s shoulders slumped theatrically. “You didn’t even open your eyes, man.”
“I did.” Josh’s voice came out muffled against the pillow. “Will you just allow me to sleep in peace?”
“No, I won’t. Not until you open your eyes and check out my fit and give your honest opinion.” Andrew bounced once— deliberate— rocking the bunk.
Josh growled— low, guttural— then rolled violently onto his back and shoved both palms against Andrew’s chest. “Oh my fucking gaud!”
Andrew let himself be pushed— tumbling backward onto the carpet with a soft thud— then sprang up immediately, arms wide. He spun a slow, deliberate 360, loafers scuffing quietly on the thin rug. White shirt crisp against brown skin, plaid trousers catching the lamplight, watch glinting on every turn.
“How do I look?”
Josh propped himself on one elbow, eyes finally open, bleary and unimpressed. “Fantastic.”
Andrew’s grin faltered. “Why do I feel like you don’t mean it?”
Josh dragged a hand down his face. “For one, I was sleeping and you didn’t care and won’t let me go back to sleep.” He gestured vaguely at the lamp. “Two, we’ve gone over this outfit yesterday. I already assured you it was perfect. How many times do I have to reassure you?”
Andrew dropped onto the edge of the bunk again, elbows on knees, smile creeping back. “Sorry, man. Just have to be one hundred percent sure my outfit is dope. I don’t want to look like I didn’t put in effort.”
Josh stared at him for three full seconds— deadpan— then let his head flop back onto the pillow. “Fuck you. You’re not gonna disappoint her.”
Andrew laughed— soft, relieved. “Thanks.”
Josh sat up slowly, sheet pooling around his waist. He rubbed both eyes with the heels of his hands, sleep lines creasing one cheek. “Remind me— is the date not set for 11 a.m.?”
“Yes, it is.” Andrew stood again, spun another quick 360 just because he could, grin refusing to fade.
Josh watched the spin, then grabbed his phone from the mattress beside him. He flipped the screen toward Andrew— 6:22 a.m. glowing in white digits. “You’re finished, mate. It’s fucking 6:22. And you’re already dressed up for a coffee date at 11.”
Andrew shrugged, still smiling. “It happens bro. When you’ve found the one, you'll know they’re the one.”
Josh snorted. “She hasn’t even agreed to date you yet. And you’re hyped like this already. I wonder how you’ll be acting if you two actually end up being a thing.”
Andrew settled onto the bed beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed. “It’s not a matter of if. It’s a matter of when.” He placed one hand on Josh’s knee— dramatic, possessive.
Josh shoved the hand away immediately— gentle but firm. “Don’t touch me, man. I’m still mad at you for disturbing my sleep.”