Ok pretend that Harvard has coed dorm rooms people. Oh and be warned major AU coming up.
"Please mom! Come on it's not like I'm actually going to be attracted to whoever my room mate is. You lived in coed dorm rooms when you went to college now I don't see what the difference is now. I mean jeeze come on you know that I won't let some guy get it the way of my studies. Pleaze!"
"Fine, fine! At least your going to Harvard and not some community college down in LA. What a dreary little town."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you loads. Oh and mom, LA is not little or dreary, just for a side note."
Four months later
"So I'm guessing that you would be Elizabeth Parker. Would I be correct?"
"Yes you would and I'm going to make a brave assumption and presume that you would be Maxwell something or other. Oh and the name is Liz not Elizabeth." I manage to bite out from between clenched teeth. When I told my mom that I wouldn't be attracted to whoever my room-mate was I certainly did not expect to find one of the finer members of the male species positioned on my bed which my parents had had sent over from San Fransico. Which reminded me. "That would be my bed Maxwell which would mean that it is not yours and that you should probably move your ass and get over onto you bed." Ok I know that I sound really mean but this is not good timing. I have major PMS and am massively attracted to my new room-mate. At Harvard for crying out loud, I really do not want to get kicked out for improper behavior with my room mate. But man is he gorgeous. Maria would hate him on sight to "different" for her (like her boyfriend wasn't different already).
Maxwell Evans was indeed gorgeous. From a sitting position I had guessed him to be about 5'10 or something but when he finally got up he towered above me at what I assumed to be 6'2 or 3. Then he had these gorgeous chocolate brown eyes with hints of black in them and this sort of spiky brown hair with a few hints of blond (from the sun no doubt). He then had a surfers body, with a muscular frame but not like a body-builder or anything. He looked fit and had the tan to prove he was out in the sun a lot. It was this sort of mocha and gold combination that went really well with him. Then there were his clothes. He wore black guys board shorts with a black tank and a Hawaiian over the top. In total he looked HOT. Damn how the hell am I gonna study with him around? After finishing my examination I finally realized that he was trying to tell me something.
"Uh Liz or Elizabeth or whatever the hell your name is would you care to tell me where your from so I can figure out how the hell to deal with you"
Deal with me! Oh he is sooo going to get it. I bet he's from LA. My best friend Maria's boyfriend is from there and has an almost identical attitude except for the thing where he was at least civil to me.
"Oh and my name is Max not Maxwell. It makes me sound rich and snobbish or something."
"Well judging by the way your acting I would say that you are snobbish." I reply sweetly. "I bet you're from LA. Michael Guerin has the exact same attitude except he and I can carry on a longer then ten minute conversation with without getting into an argument." Then I noticed that he was no longer listening. His face had gone ash white and for a minute I was tempted to slap him across the face for being so god-damned cute.
"Did you just say you knew someone named Michael Guerin?" he croaked out, his voice loosing the rich confident ring and starting to sound desperate like I had just told him something which was unbelievable and yet he really wanted to believe it.
"Ya so what? He's my best friend Maria's boyfriend of oh about three years." Oh damn I suddenly don't think that was the right thing to say.
"Oh ya I remember her the annoying little blond bitch who suddenly came in to our lives and then swept Michael right out with her." He spits the words out like they burn him and suddenly I know exactly why he acts like Michael. This would be Michaels brother, the one that Maria had complained about for weeks after she and Michael had returned from LA. She had said something about him and his cousin Isabel trying to keep Michael from leaving Los Angeles with her.
"Oh now I know who you are. You're Max Evans aren't you?" I question him, then letting the defensive me take over. "Oh and Maria is NOT a bitch. Got it?"
"Yes I am now how the fuck do you know my last name now if you didn't know it earlier. Unless Michael decided to dish something out about me and Izzy when he left so abruptly." His eyes had darkened in anger leaving them dark as coals in his gorgeous face. He looked menacing and suddenly I had the urge to go and cower under my bed. Oh wait no can't do that, he's right by it.
"No Max, Michael did not say anything about you but Maria sure as hell did. Said you were bitter, cynical, and down right rude! And obviously she was right. About the boxer thing as well I can see." I add the last part quietly under my breath so that he doesn't hear me but obviously my plan fails when he turns around and gives me the once over declaring -correctly I might add- that I am wearing a red lacy thong. How the hell am I supposed to live with this guy!
Oh damn, I knew the minute this girl walked into my…our new room that I was in trouble. In a big way. She was absolutely spectacular looking, with brown hair that reminded me of Hershy's chocolate (my personal favorite) and brown eyes that sparkled with this inner warmth. And then there was her dress, or should I say piece of cloth. It was just one of those summer dresses or whatever but on her it looked magnificent. It was a light, summery green and ended about six inches above her knees going up in a tiny slit on both sides and when she turned around the back had a low dip and of course the fact that her hair was up so that it was piled on top of her head in a manner which looked like she had just fallen out of some guys bed -although her clothes stated otherwise- gave a perfect view of the expanse of pale skin displayed before him. This was gonna be hell.
So I'm going to try to make this better…for me at least. If she hates me I won't be attracted to her. Right? So I said the stupidest most obvious thing possible. "So I'm guessing that you would be Elizabeth Parker. Would I be correct?"
Oh hell from the glare she just shot me this girl is not going to be a pushover but will most definitely be a huge turn on whether she hates me or not.
Twenty minutes later I was not thinking straight at all, and not because of her. I was soooo mad. So this was one of Michaels friends who he just had to leave LA to be with. I should have gone to the fucking community college back in LA, then I never would have met gorgeous little Elizabeth Parker and I wouldn't have to even think about how much Michael hurt me and Izzy. Oh and he left me with his obnoxious little bitch of a sister Tess who decided to force me into dating her. Thankfully Kyle came along and took her out of my hands so she won't be a problem. Hopefully she's at home with Kyle and they're screwing like bunnies without thinking of me at all. Which leaves me completely free to check out Liz without regrets. Wait a second I am not going to be checking Liz out any time soon. I'm here on a fucking scholarship that I can not afford to loose. Four years of perfect grades and a hell of a lot of hard work will not going to be wasted on some annoying brunette who I probably won't even remember after we graduate.
All right that's it I will get along with Liz if it's the last thing I do.
Six weeks afterwards
"Max, you forgot your cardiology notes! Get your ass back here!" I scream down the dorm buildings dreary white hall that's lined with students wandering to and from a variety of classes. I can see Max turn around slowly with a grimace on his gorgeous face. We eventually learned to live together but we have on rule: neither of us is allowed to mention Michael or Maria at any time. Period. We've even become friends: a friendship which is lined with sexual frustration but I'm dealing. I'm waiting for his iron will to brake; it's actually quite funny to watch him attempt to not look when I make him come shopping with me. The fact that I wear short, short boxers and a tiny tank to sleep in isn't helping him study I'm sure but it's sooo fun listening to him groan when he thinks I'm not listening.
As Max runs back down the hallway to grab his notes from my open palm I lean forward expectantly for the kiss on the cheek that has become our ritual since the first party of the year two weeks after school started. Our dorm mates decided it would be hilarious to add the already huge pile of sexual tension between us by forcing us the kiss. Our other choice was to get in a bed completely naked for five minutes. Uh I don't think so! So now we kiss on the cheek every morning just to appease them into leaving us alone.
When he arrives at our room -number 275- instead of giving my the normal lightning fast kiss on the cheek he shocks the hell out of me. Leaning down he wraps his arm around my waist and places his other hand behind my neck and pulls me forward, savagely kissing me. Without thinking I give in the irresistible urge to turn to mush in his arms and groan audibly as he nibbles on my lower lip. Oh shit this has to stop! "Max, babe you gotta get to class. Mrs. Phillips will kill you if you' re late again." I manage to make out between pants. As I say this I'm desperately trying to ignore the fact that our entire building is wolf whistling and clapping, oh and that ther's an enticing bulge bumping into my stomach and just begging for my attention. He only grins and grabs his notes turning back down the hallway but not before placing a note in my back pocket. Oh Evans you are going to get it.
"Please mom! Come on it's not like I'm actually going to be attracted to whoever my room mate is. You lived in coed dorm rooms when you went to college now I don't see what the difference is now. I mean jeeze come on you know that I won't let some guy get it the way of my studies. Pleaze!"
"Fine, fine! At least your going to Harvard and not some community college down in LA. What a dreary little town."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you loads. Oh and mom, LA is not little or dreary, just for a side note."
Four months later
"So I'm guessing that you would be Elizabeth Parker. Would I be correct?"
"Yes you would and I'm going to make a brave assumption and presume that you would be Maxwell something or other. Oh and the name is Liz not Elizabeth." I manage to bite out from between clenched teeth. When I told my mom that I wouldn't be attracted to whoever my room-mate was I certainly did not expect to find one of the finer members of the male species positioned on my bed which my parents had had sent over from San Fransico. Which reminded me. "That would be my bed Maxwell which would mean that it is not yours and that you should probably move your ass and get over onto you bed." Ok I know that I sound really mean but this is not good timing. I have major PMS and am massively attracted to my new room-mate. At Harvard for crying out loud, I really do not want to get kicked out for improper behavior with my room mate. But man is he gorgeous. Maria would hate him on sight to "different" for her (like her boyfriend wasn't different already).
Maxwell Evans was indeed gorgeous. From a sitting position I had guessed him to be about 5'10 or something but when he finally got up he towered above me at what I assumed to be 6'2 or 3. Then he had these gorgeous chocolate brown eyes with hints of black in them and this sort of spiky brown hair with a few hints of blond (from the sun no doubt). He then had a surfers body, with a muscular frame but not like a body-builder or anything. He looked fit and had the tan to prove he was out in the sun a lot. It was this sort of mocha and gold combination that went really well with him. Then there were his clothes. He wore black guys board shorts with a black tank and a Hawaiian over the top. In total he looked HOT. Damn how the hell am I gonna study with him around? After finishing my examination I finally realized that he was trying to tell me something.
"Uh Liz or Elizabeth or whatever the hell your name is would you care to tell me where your from so I can figure out how the hell to deal with you"
Deal with me! Oh he is sooo going to get it. I bet he's from LA. My best friend Maria's boyfriend is from there and has an almost identical attitude except for the thing where he was at least civil to me.
"Oh and my name is Max not Maxwell. It makes me sound rich and snobbish or something."
"Well judging by the way your acting I would say that you are snobbish." I reply sweetly. "I bet you're from LA. Michael Guerin has the exact same attitude except he and I can carry on a longer then ten minute conversation with without getting into an argument." Then I noticed that he was no longer listening. His face had gone ash white and for a minute I was tempted to slap him across the face for being so god-damned cute.
"Did you just say you knew someone named Michael Guerin?" he croaked out, his voice loosing the rich confident ring and starting to sound desperate like I had just told him something which was unbelievable and yet he really wanted to believe it.
"Ya so what? He's my best friend Maria's boyfriend of oh about three years." Oh damn I suddenly don't think that was the right thing to say.
"Oh ya I remember her the annoying little blond bitch who suddenly came in to our lives and then swept Michael right out with her." He spits the words out like they burn him and suddenly I know exactly why he acts like Michael. This would be Michaels brother, the one that Maria had complained about for weeks after she and Michael had returned from LA. She had said something about him and his cousin Isabel trying to keep Michael from leaving Los Angeles with her.
"Oh now I know who you are. You're Max Evans aren't you?" I question him, then letting the defensive me take over. "Oh and Maria is NOT a bitch. Got it?"
"Yes I am now how the fuck do you know my last name now if you didn't know it earlier. Unless Michael decided to dish something out about me and Izzy when he left so abruptly." His eyes had darkened in anger leaving them dark as coals in his gorgeous face. He looked menacing and suddenly I had the urge to go and cower under my bed. Oh wait no can't do that, he's right by it.
"No Max, Michael did not say anything about you but Maria sure as hell did. Said you were bitter, cynical, and down right rude! And obviously she was right. About the boxer thing as well I can see." I add the last part quietly under my breath so that he doesn't hear me but obviously my plan fails when he turns around and gives me the once over declaring -correctly I might add- that I am wearing a red lacy thong. How the hell am I supposed to live with this guy!
Oh damn, I knew the minute this girl walked into my…our new room that I was in trouble. In a big way. She was absolutely spectacular looking, with brown hair that reminded me of Hershy's chocolate (my personal favorite) and brown eyes that sparkled with this inner warmth. And then there was her dress, or should I say piece of cloth. It was just one of those summer dresses or whatever but on her it looked magnificent. It was a light, summery green and ended about six inches above her knees going up in a tiny slit on both sides and when she turned around the back had a low dip and of course the fact that her hair was up so that it was piled on top of her head in a manner which looked like she had just fallen out of some guys bed -although her clothes stated otherwise- gave a perfect view of the expanse of pale skin displayed before him. This was gonna be hell.
So I'm going to try to make this better…for me at least. If she hates me I won't be attracted to her. Right? So I said the stupidest most obvious thing possible. "So I'm guessing that you would be Elizabeth Parker. Would I be correct?"
Oh hell from the glare she just shot me this girl is not going to be a pushover but will most definitely be a huge turn on whether she hates me or not.
Twenty minutes later I was not thinking straight at all, and not because of her. I was soooo mad. So this was one of Michaels friends who he just had to leave LA to be with. I should have gone to the fucking community college back in LA, then I never would have met gorgeous little Elizabeth Parker and I wouldn't have to even think about how much Michael hurt me and Izzy. Oh and he left me with his obnoxious little bitch of a sister Tess who decided to force me into dating her. Thankfully Kyle came along and took her out of my hands so she won't be a problem. Hopefully she's at home with Kyle and they're screwing like bunnies without thinking of me at all. Which leaves me completely free to check out Liz without regrets. Wait a second I am not going to be checking Liz out any time soon. I'm here on a fucking scholarship that I can not afford to loose. Four years of perfect grades and a hell of a lot of hard work will not going to be wasted on some annoying brunette who I probably won't even remember after we graduate.
All right that's it I will get along with Liz if it's the last thing I do.
Six weeks afterwards
"Max, you forgot your cardiology notes! Get your ass back here!" I scream down the dorm buildings dreary white hall that's lined with students wandering to and from a variety of classes. I can see Max turn around slowly with a grimace on his gorgeous face. We eventually learned to live together but we have on rule: neither of us is allowed to mention Michael or Maria at any time. Period. We've even become friends: a friendship which is lined with sexual frustration but I'm dealing. I'm waiting for his iron will to brake; it's actually quite funny to watch him attempt to not look when I make him come shopping with me. The fact that I wear short, short boxers and a tiny tank to sleep in isn't helping him study I'm sure but it's sooo fun listening to him groan when he thinks I'm not listening.
As Max runs back down the hallway to grab his notes from my open palm I lean forward expectantly for the kiss on the cheek that has become our ritual since the first party of the year two weeks after school started. Our dorm mates decided it would be hilarious to add the already huge pile of sexual tension between us by forcing us the kiss. Our other choice was to get in a bed completely naked for five minutes. Uh I don't think so! So now we kiss on the cheek every morning just to appease them into leaving us alone.
When he arrives at our room -number 275- instead of giving my the normal lightning fast kiss on the cheek he shocks the hell out of me. Leaning down he wraps his arm around my waist and places his other hand behind my neck and pulls me forward, savagely kissing me. Without thinking I give in the irresistible urge to turn to mush in his arms and groan audibly as he nibbles on my lower lip. Oh shit this has to stop! "Max, babe you gotta get to class. Mrs. Phillips will kill you if you' re late again." I manage to make out between pants. As I say this I'm desperately trying to ignore the fact that our entire building is wolf whistling and clapping, oh and that ther's an enticing bulge bumping into my stomach and just begging for my attention. He only grins and grabs his notes turning back down the hallway but not before placing a note in my back pocket. Oh Evans you are going to get it.