Tegan

I've been always warned that dorm rooms are the dirtiest spaces a human could step into. I've been told the bathrooms are the filthiest of all the filth I could see. And I was also told it would depend on whom I'm sharing my room and my bathroom with for the next four years of college. So how to put it exactly? Let's see. Hmmm, I am glad...No, no. I am immensely glad. I am terrifically amazed. I am wonderfully pleased, I am fucking ecstatic that the person I'm sharing my space with has terrifying levels of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and not someone who smells or makes a mess of what's around her.

Now I admit, I spent the whole day yesterday asking myself: What the fuck is wrong with this bitch?

She's strange. She's different. She's...I don't know how to describe her, but she's definitely not who I thought I'd see in the room. Her rules were something beyond extreme, I admit that as well. But as a benefit, she's cute, she's gullible, she's hot, she's bossy, and she hasn't gotten laid in a long time as I can foresee. The last point is the most important one, because I, Tegan Quin, have one aim, and that is to sleep with this woman even though I know nothing about her other than her physical allurement.

The one thing that made me cringe was the amount of pink I witnessed in her room. I checked her closet while adding my clothes to my section, she did not have one skirt nor one dress, yet everything, including her hair and her voice, indicated she's such a feminine woman. I can't really judge since that's no way to measure it, but she has a sweet timbre and her hair is brown and shiny, reaching her shoulders. It looks a lot like my mother's haircut, which scared the living shit out of me at the beginning. But then I got used to her features, which were soft but also sharp and appealing.

Her desk was very neatly arranged on her side of the room. She has a very small shelf of books hung upon it. She has her computer placed there, notebooks and pens as well. The room was filled with tiny stuffed animals in each corner. She has a television and a PlayStation. A couch and a small coffee table faced them. All are fancy furniture, even the bed I can call mine. I know the other rooms must be very different as Sara said all of these are from her father, which made me cringe as well. I am a roommate to daddy's little girl.

I know it is going to be especially hard to deal with her. I am not a very arranged person. I clean and I like tidy places, but at the same time I am not what you call a freak of organization, which Sara clearly is. I throw my clothes on the floor when I'm tired, my hair falls from my comb when I brush it in the shower, sometimes my toothpaste stains the sink, I smell after a long day, and my hair becomes greasy and my breath is odious in the morning. I am normal, I am just like every human being. But Sara, she's another case of a clean freak. Which makes me wonder, does this girl really have sex or actually enjoy it?

Sex is dirty. It is the truth. You touch every part of the person you're having sex with. You taste them for god's sake. Sometimes things you don't want to touch you in sex, against your will, they do that and you're like, what the hell, I'll shower after that. So I truly feel sorry for whoever Sara's girlfriend is. I bet any sexual encounter they had was much more boring than my grandparents', who are still sexually active according to an accident of busting inside their room without any warning at midnight caused me to unwillingly discover.

Speaking of interrupting something nice and private, though I hate to admit what my grandparents were having was nice, the said lady that goes by the name Sara Sweep or whatever it was, cruelly, and without any consideration, interrupted one peaceful slumber and a heck of a dream of me thrusting inside some blonde bimbo with a dick that I had just magically grown out of nowhere, with her stupid hoover in my ear.

I huffed and buried my face in my pillow, groaning as the sounds felt closer each second. "Are you fucking serious?" I groaned as I felt the obnoxious noise very close to my ears.

"I told you I wake up early." Sara reminded me as if I had fucking forgotten. What time is it? What the fuck is wrong with her? "I also told you not to throw any of your clothes on the floor." Sara said once again and I raised my eyebrows in confusion. When did I throw my clothes on the damn floor?

"I do..." I yawned midway, turning on my back only to watch the devil with one hand on her hip and one holding the vacuum in place as it groaned near my bed. She formed one of these, obviously fake, disgusted faces when I yawned without covering my mouth.

"Ohhhhhh." I think I blushed just a little when I sat up and saw my sweatpants and T-shirt on the floor beside my bed. Sara, on the other hand, she looked exactly like my mother with that guilt-trip face after I'd do something wrong as a teenager. "I get hot when I sleep. I like to sleep with few clothes on."

I removed my blanket and looked at the small clock on the wall beside Sara's bed. It was fucking eight. Okay, this woman has issues. She truly has issues.

When I turned around to face her, I saw millions of pinkish shades biting her entire face, and I didn't realize it at first until I got off the mattress and stood up in my boyshorts and sports bra, facing a red-faced Sara who tried her best to look elsewhere but not on the material of underwear clung tightly to my crotch, highlighting what things might look like if she ever saw me naked...which I'll make sure she does.

I smirked and licked my lower lip, and when our eyes met, I winked at her, reaching for my sweatpants to put it on once again.

Sara rejected my attempt of flirtation with a raised eyebrow and pressed lips. "You have to get over yourself."

"Says the girl who thinks she can control her roommate and make her follow her rules just because daddy bought the furniture." I scoff, placing both hands on my hips, forgetting I still have to cover my torso.

"Rules about being clean and organized should have been taught to you by your parents. I don't make them. I follow them, and so will you." Daddy's girl spoke again and I couldn't help not to roll my eyes.

But something caught me while standing there, arguing with Sara and trying to win a battle of words that I wasn't sure I was capable of winning; Sara's pupils never ceased shifting to my chest. It's been happening since yesterday and I didn't really get why at first until my hand came in contact with one breast by mistake and I remembered the reason why some people usually stare if I'm not wearing a padded bra.

I always felt more comfortable with sports bras after getting my nipples pierced. I especially preferred sleeping in them because they made the whole area feel much better, and sometimes really good. Especially after I just got them pierced and wanted them to heal. So I suppose it made people wonder why my nipples are always hard. I wondered if Sara could easily guess it's a piercing or was just like most of these people, questioning whether I'm aroused or not, which I am.

"Babe, I don't follow the rules, I make them." I winked once again and cringed at the corny comeback my lips uttered without much thought, knowing too well Sara was going to mock me.

I watched Sara eyeing me up and down in looks of thumping disdain as I put on my T-shirt. "I don't like when people call me babe, sweetie pie, hun, angel, sugar, princess, woman, or gurl." Her majesty said with the same tone my mother used when she gave me a lecture about being safe in sex, thinking I was actually into men.

"Oops, too bad, I broke another rule...Babe." I winked once again and walked to the bathroom, and I swear I heard her muttering 'bitch' when I slammed the door.

With all honesty, without lying, without sugarcoating or any type of exaggeration, if one asked me whether I'd rather spend my whole life in Sara's bathroom or in my own room back in my mother's house in Calgary, I would choose Sara's bathroom without even giving it a second thought. Not because my room was dirty or disgusting or any of that, but because Sara's bathroom is the cleanest bathroom or anything I have ever seen. This bathroom is cleaner than most rooms I've entered in my entire life. It smells great, like it's been drowned in lotion and shampoo, even though I know Sara still hadn't had her shower yet. The tile is sparkling with cleanliness, the mirror is crystal clear, the amount of body lotions on the shelf below the mirror made my head spin. All kinds and all colours, I just wanted to try them all yesterday after my shower, which I kind of did, pouring this and that and smelling them as well.

I looked at all the brands of perfumes and colognes arranged there as well. I know my collection stood no chance. I thought of myself as someone who spends most of their money on silly things such as colognes and hair products, but daddy's girl managed to beat me even at that.

I looked at the cabinet on the wall right beside the mirror, and opened it to inspect what I might see in there. The three shelves were also very neatly arranged and organized in a way that if I touched anything, Sara would know immediately that someone noisy had messed with her things. A variety of medicines and pills arranged by name, hair products and combs as well, shaving cream and three different razors all I would never even discover the difference between, a very modest amount of make up which consisted of mascara, foundation, and blusher, a container of contact lenses and their solution, and finally two boxes of pads. Admittedly, the latter made me giggle quite a bit because I didn't expect a woman as old as her would still be using something so uncomfortable as pads.

Sara's everything invaded the bathroom and it made me confused as where will I put my own things because there is no other cabinet or any space left in the bathroom. So when I finished what I needed to do, brushed my teeth, and left the room, I asked Sara, who has finished her cleaning, about it.

Sara stood in her place for a moment. I was trying to figure out what should I satisfy my empty stomach with. "I'll try to free some space for you but you can get a cabinet. I bought this one from this store near the university's main entrance, like two blocks away. It has such stuff, I'll show it to you, if you want."

"You'll show it to me?" I asked.

"Uh, ya. If you want." Sara seemed confused of my reaction, but I can't be blamed because she comes off as such a stuck up one second and actually sweet the next.

"Ya, I want that. I don't wanna take any of your space. Plus, I have many hair products, so ya." I explained, finally settling on grabbing the Froot Loops cereal which I spotted arranged near three boxes of different types of cereals on the counter on the far side of the dorm room, behind the television set. That's the space which I can call the kitchen.

"Hair products?" Sara looked at me as well as chortled as if I have just told her one of the jokes that I usually tell people and they laugh at. I gave a confused nod and Sara rudely laughed once again. "Have you actually looked in the mirror and saw your hair?" Sara rhetorically asked, then once again, rudely continued, "It's like someone has bitten off your bangs or you had an accident with the scissors."

My chest hurt. Literally, my chest had this kind of sting when I heard myself get insulted that way. I've been insulted all my life, but the way she said these words, the way she poked fun of the one thing I was so happy about, which is my new haircut, the way she aimed at it and laughed, all of these made my heart drop just a tiny bit and made me unable to come up with any harsh or witty comeback because I was utterly speechless and enormously hurt.

I subconsciously reached for my bangs with a pout on my lips, I patted them and faced the fridge, not knowing what to say to Sara because I felt completely lost now that she had insulted my hair. I reach for the milk and Sara is just standing there, she has a different expression now, one which I can't really decipher.

After I prepared my cereal, Sara was still standing there like a dumb statue who I ignored walking to the sofa and sitting there, grabbing the remote control from the coffee table and switching the television on.

"Aren't you gonna say anything?" I chuckled as I realized that Sara was actually the one hurt because I ignored her. She is a really...simple woman. I don't like to call someone stupid, because I'm sure she's not, but perhaps a little bit naive and gullible, which makes me able to see and understand her thoughts through her facial expressions. And that made me realize that what came out of her mouth was purely unintentional and was against the will of her thoughts.

Sara is one of those who let out a bunch of words without thinking them over. Those types of people are good at heart and any type of competition or fight they want to be involved in, they usually lose with their foolishness at the wrong moment. Though Sara has some witty remarks and can appear sly and subtle, she lacks the adequate amounts of cleverness to keep up with her desires, which really can't make me that angry nor hurt.

"Anything." I finally said with a wide grin and then raised the volume as I switched to Disney Channel and spotted a new cartoon in the name of Brandy and Mr. Whiskers. I haven't seen it before and I always flip on Disney in the early hours of the morning to wait for That's So Raven. It seems to be as if it is a new animated series and I am immediately hooked the same way I am hooked whenever I see tits.

So I'm not really sure if Sara had muttered anything after my goofy answer or not, but I'm pretty sure I heard her sigh and slam the bathroom's door after a minute or so.

Sara left the bathroom after a full half an hour and That's So Raven has had just begun. She walked in front of the television and blocked my view. First thing I notice is her hair in a ponytail, which charmingly accentuated her jaw, brought the honey of her eyes, and made me stare at her without realizing I was staring too much. Second thing I notice is that we have exactly the same jeans, except mine is too wide and large for me and hers is not leaving a lovely inch of her feminine curves without drawing attention to. She really has the right amount of meat in the right places, which also made me stare for as long as I can recall. Third thing I notice is that her black top was as well tight, but not as tight as most of my tops, it doesn't show her love handles, not that she has any, I assume, but gives the hints of full breasts, which made me drool inside my mouth until I was hit with Sara's voice to wake me up from entering a fantasy of bedding her while she squirmed and writhed beneath me.

"That bowl lying there," Sara points at my empty bowl on the coffee table. "I really encourage you to wash it before I return and it's still here." I nod, wanting her to get away from my screen and let me watch Raven as she gets a vision. It's a new fucking episode, that's not fair. "And I really encourage you to get dressed and walk inside the campus, discover a bit, look for your classes so you won't be lost the first day."

I shook my head at every word Sara uttered, it's like I have never left home. For god's sake, when are adults gonna let me live the remaining bits of my teenage years in peace without their constant nagging? "Be honest." I said. "Did my mum send you here to spy on me? Are you like her other child which she kept a secret from me in order to traumatize me when I'm older and away from her home? Therapists have such techniques. Admit it, Sara."

I spot a shadow of a smile ghosting its way on Sara's lips and I feel my heart flutter, just a tiny bit. "I don't know your mother, nor have I ever met her, so no, I am not a spy. Please do as I told you, until I return." While Sara was saying this, she walked to the door and put on her shoes. One other thing I notice is that she has exactly the same converse as mine, except hers is squeaky clean and mine clouded with dirt.

And then Sara left and I stayed alone in my dorm room. I did as Sara told. I washed the bowl, I changed my clothes, and I left my dorm room.

I haven't had sex in two weeks, and I am extremely horny at the moment. I really thought about what if I spotted someone I could fuck while touring my university, but I really don't know how the system works here, how girls are here. Will I find easy sluts I can fuck and then dump, or will the bitches here cause me drama if I did that? I don't want any woman crying and pleading at my door. I don't want to give false hope of a love I can't give. I don't want attachment, I don't want commitment, I just want to fulfill my needs so I can carry on with my life. Other than that, they can dump all their love and romance on someone else, I am not ready to take any of that. I came to this university for one thing, and that is to study and be my best for the company I'm gonna manage in the future. I want to be a business woman. I want my words to be heard. I want to be powerful. I want to be the boss. I want to be someone who can depend on herself and not on lovers who stay for a bit then leave me to cry about them in my bathroom's floor like my mother. I don't want to be like her. I want to be my own individual, and no love, no woman, no person can ever make me fall in a trap of silly affections my heart doesn't yield to.

I walk around my campus with thoughts of victory and strength invading my brain. I have a smile on my face and a will to start a life I can lead. The classes are all ready for me to enter them and show my abilities to achieve what I always wanted to achieve. My schedule in hand, and my motivation in my other hand, I walk to each class I am destined to be lectured at next week.

I walk to the cafeteria, I walk to the stadium, I walk to the theater, and I walk in the comforting nature outside of the buildings. I see the sorority houses, I see the rich, joyful girls walking in giggles and glee. These whom I should post the label daddy's girls to and not Sara, I suppose, but then again I shouldn't label anyone, that's what dear Sonia taught me, but my mind sometimes judges too quickly, until I realize I am in the wrong. Perhaps I was a bit cruel with Sara, I came off as bitchy, but she did start it at first, so I can't be blamed, right?

I do want to be a friend to Sara because the woman simply caught my attention. Not only when it comes to the sexual matter, but personally, she really does make me feel intrigued to know her more. Not to forget, she's going to be my roommate until one of us graduates or leaves the dorm, so at least I have to try and be friendly with her. But at the same time, teasing her becomes very easy and lovable to watch, especially when she becomes irritated with my reactions or responses.

I finish my tour around the campus and I return back to the dorm. Sara hasn't returned yet, and I don't know where she has went, anyway. I don't know what I should do exactly to save myself from boredom, so I decide to spend my time playing in Sara's PlayStation.

I'm not sure if she minds that or not, but I honestly don't give one single fuck. She can yell and shout when she returns, that doesn't scare me. It's not like I have anything better to do, so I might as well win the level of car race she's stuck at.

Fifteen minutes pass and three tries and I finally win that level and move onto the next one, which I actually win from the first attempt, and soon I find myself hooked on this game and can't really move my eyes.

I switch my seating place from the couch to the floor, and I can feel the burn in my eyes at the proximity of my body to the television screen.

Even when Sara walks inside in a rush and a loud slam to the door, I don't shy away from the television and I don't remove my hands from the joystick. I hear mumbling behind an irritated breath and shuffling behind me and it makes me curious to find out what's actually happening on planet Sara, so I pause the game and turn around.

Sara is standing there with disgust as a painted map on her facial expressions and body language. Her back to the door as she tries to get whatever type of dirt she thinks she got on the door. "That's disgusting, it's disgusting, I can't believe I've done that. Fuck you, Emy." Sara continues removing the transparent dirt by lurching her body against the poor door. "I'm probably gonna get an STD and die, oh God." She keeps muttering to herself until I hear her last sentence and burst in laughter, which makes her face me with beastly red eyes full of anger.

Suddenly, I feel obliged to let go of the joystick as her eyes shift to my hands and she gasps. She walks towards my seated figure and in slow motion it will look like an angry penguin walking in the room and not an easily irritated human being. "No, no, no." I grab the joystick once again and hide it behind my back as she tries to reach for it. "Wash your hands first." I raise my eyebrows with a smirk I perfect so well on my face as I try to beat Sara at her own game. "Your rule, not mine, remember?"

I think that just made her more furious and I look at her head waiting for the steam to rise and the volcano to erupt as her face becomes stained with the colour of embarrassment and furry. "My hands are clean." She confidently and firmly says.

"Please," I roll my eyes with a chuckle. "You were just scrubbing your whole body against the door. God knows how many microbes you've stuck on it. And then you said you're gonna get an STD. I think we both know what have you done, therefore, I can't really trust you and give you the joystick without even knowing where your hands had been, but I think I have a pretty clear idea, so wash them first." I finish with a triumphant smile as Sara's scowl reaches a whole other level of anger. "Better if you take another shower, if you want my opinion. Calling yourself clean, psh." I scoff and face the television again in order to resume my game.

Before I could do anything, before I could resume, before I could take a breath, without even expecting it, without even comprehending what is happening, I find myself on the floor with Sara on top of me. Her eyes dilated and her bum on my waist. She has both of her hands wrapped around my throat and suddenly I absorb what the fuck is happening.

I admit, this actually scared me. It terrified me. I started praying, I started pleading, and begging for Sara to stop what she's doing. She wasn't putting any pressure, she wasn't squeezing, she just had her hands wrapped around my neck and I swear I thought I was locked in a dorm room with a violent criminal. I almost started crying until I remembered when I have done the exact same thing just last year with my best friend when he pushed my buttons. And then I started laughing hysterically, leaving Sara confused and startled with my reaction.

I suppose she became scared as well with her action, she looked rather tensed and on the verge of tears. But when I started laughing, Sara's face relaxed and her hands were on her sides instead of forming a circle around my neck. Oh God, I am roomed with someone much like myself, and it took me only a day to realize it. I laugh more because it is funny to me. We are different, yes, but I have reached the conclusion that both of us are psycho bitches who feed on irritating the other and if one is irritated she seeks violence which isn't a good option, but from the looks on Sara's face, I assume both of us can't control it, nor change it.

As Sara sits there, straddling my hips with a confounded glower, I can feel the pressure down there becoming too real to miss. My clit twitches and I feel my wetness increasing. Sara's not even moving or doing anything, she's just sitting there, and God, I need that pressure her bum is aiding my crotch.

Without realizing, I give a slight thrust in order to grasp the friction my core and clit ache for. This makes Sara's eyes pop open as she realizes what I'm doing. It makes both of us blush.

Sara slowly, and without saying any word, gets up and walks to the bathroom, leaving me there on the floor, staring at the ceiling and trying to make my mind give me the stimulation I need to get myself off and come without even touching myself.

I have read about it a lot. Some people can come with mind stimulation, but as much as I tried it, it never happened. I couldn't encourage my clit to be rubbed solely by giving orders from my mind. One day it almost worked, I felt it twitching and I felt the great satisfaction until the feeling was slowly evaporating and I had to rely on my fingers instead. But now, I just want anything, any type of action, any type of friction. I want to come and I can't do it because Sara may leave the bathroom at any second.

The feeling in my nipples isn't so great right now. I've got the piercings six months ago and they barely healed. My mother kept questioning why I keep wincing and flinching the next day and I didn't know what lie I could tell, so I told the truth and she kept silent. I think many things went inside her head. Why? For who? Why do you wanna hurt yourself? Why didn't you wait till you're eighteen? And these type of questions. But she didn't say anything but to be careful with them because infections happen easily and I could injure myself if I wasn't careful, which I shamefully have done, and since then it's been giving me a hard time whenever I got aroused and my nipples hardened.

The only not fun part about piercing them is that now they're too sensitive to receive any playful sexual teasing. They hurt if licked or pulled. I was told that's going to stay but the first year is the hardest. And I really did love receiving pleasure from my nipples, but I also really love having them pierced, so I sacrificed and chose the latter.

While I was being engulfed by my arousal, a scene of Sara walking out of the bathroom with her towel interrupted all my flowing thoughts. Dripping confidence pouring out of her wet locks, dampening the floor and my inflamed libido. I stared at her while still on the floor, lying on my side and squeezing the beating between my thighs.

We exchange a glance, and like a beggar, I let out a soft whimper as her majesty feeds me with proud looks while rummaging through her drawers. She takes out light pink boyshorts and a black bra. Then she walks to the closet, trying to hide her underwear to the other side that I can't see, even though I saw the padded bra and the girly pink ribbon on the front of her underwear. She fishes for another top and khaki pants this time. Then Sara returns to the bathroom and I groan the pain out of my system. How can I be so attracted to a bitch I just met yesterday?

I can't even get up. If I did, I'm gonna feel the pool that's going to explode in my underwear. It will be so hard just to get up and remove the movie scene of wet Sara out of my vision. Her skin looked so soft, like a liquid lotion I want to drown in. I really wanted to lie underneath her thin legs as she stood there searching for her clothes. I want to see and discover what is there, the way her cunt looks, the way her folds are shaped, the way her clit would twitch when I breathe on it. God, I want to do that, and her leaving the bathroom with a dark green top that not only gave me a full idea of her breast size, but also provided the shy hints of a cleavage I couldn't stop staring at, was not a helping factor at all.

Sara clears her throat while I just sway my legs back and forth, still on the floor. "I'm sorry." I know it's hurting her to apologize, so I smile wickedly at her. "I didn't mean to lose my temper." She explains. I start laughing once again and curl on the carpeted floor. She furrows her brows and asks, "Why the fuck are you laughing? I almost choked you to death and would've probably buried you underneath this fucking ground and nobody would have known." She wraps her arms against her chest, which makes the fabric slide just a tad down to give me more of the squishy flesh of her breasts squeezed together in the cups of her bra.

I am not sure whether she's doing that on purpose or not, but what I'm sure of is that I stared long enough until her heat climbed to her face and crawled down to cover the chest my eyes were glued on. "Maybe I'm into kinky shit like that, didn't you ever ask yourself that?" I say, interrupting our intense eye contact and then hear her gasp as I shift my vision once again to the lovely scene of her tits.

"That's so..." She cuts herself off by giggling, and all of a sudden it's like I'm looking at another Sara. She keeps on giggling and I raise my eyebrows. "I feel like you speak of shit way more older than your age or mentality." She sits on the sofa and I remain on the floor.

"What happens down here," I motion to my crotch and watch as Sara's pupils move to where my hand is. "Has nothing to do with my age nor with my mentality." I raise one eyebrow again and plaster a smirk.

Sara nods then hums. "So you watch cartoons, mumble shit about wanting to be a power ranger at night, and yet you think you're that charming in sex. Dear, you're just eighteen, who did you even sleep with? When did you even start having sex?"

I've been previously told about my habit of sleep talking by my friends, so when she says that, I am not embarrassed nor bothered at all.

It's true, I am actually young to call myself experienced in sex, but I am experienced in sex. I've slept with many women, with older ones, with younger ones, with ones my age. And I am pretty sure whatever skills Sara thinks she has, mine can top hers, which only makes me wonder of the skills Sara might have in sex.

"Sounds to me like you're challenging my sexual abilities. Wanna give it a round so you can witness the magical madness I will cause to your pussy?" I eagerly push my luck with crude words and a dirty smirk, making Sara not only gasp and blush, but also avert her gaze and shift on the couch. I got her and I got her good.

Then Sara looks at me once again, gaining her composure and putting on her bitch-in-charge mask. "Get over yourself." She says so slowly and with an interval between each word that I swallow all the saliva dancing on my tongue as I imagine that voice whispering dirty nonsense in my ears in moments of intimacy.

None of us say anything for a long while. I really think it's ten to fifteen minutes that we stayed there in our respective places, either glancing at each other or at what's around us.

Then Sara huffs and looks at the clock. I know she wants to talk, like normally talk without the irritating back and forth bitching we keep throwing at each other. I do that too, but I can't seem to bring myself to say anything. "So umm..." Sara murders the silence between us. "I need to grab some groceries. Do you want to join me? You know, to get your own food and maybe we could pass by the store that sells these home stuff, you know to get you a cabinet?"

Subconsciously, I feel my eyes widen at her suggestion and a smile grows on both of our faces as I nod and get up. I'm not sure what we are exactly. Friends? Enemies? Flirting buddies? We act like siblings with our back and forth fights and then we make up all of a sudden and we're good again. I like that, I really do, but I am confused about Sara. Who is she? What does she do in her life? I am curious about a woman my vagina likes and it's quite strange, because what my vagina likes, my mind doesn't give a shit about.

Sara and I leave the dorm and walk out of university without any of us saying any word. We walk in the heat of the summer, and I smell the scent of the green on the trees, knowing not much longer, winter is going to munch on that scent and leave the green brown and barren.

Sara begins to show me places of where I could eat at or study at, just outside the university. She shows me a diner and then a cafe. Which I stop outside of as Sara continues walking, thinking I'm tagging along.

I read the advertisement on the glass window, they want extra employees and I honestly can't think of anything better than a cafe to work at. I'm not a coffee lover, that's true, but I view the tasty collection of their cakes and cupcakes and my mouth instantly waters. If I happen to nail a job here, I'm probably going to be offered free cupcakes, and there's nothing Tegan loves more than free food.

"You want to work here?" I turn around and watch Sara standing beside me, her hands in her pocket and her eyes squinting to read the ad. I nod my head and bite my lips. "That's a good place. You should work here and get me free coffee." Sara adds and I chuckle at the fact we both want me to work here in order to get a free something that we will throw down our throats.

"And free cupcake to myself. What do I do?" I ask.

"I know someone who used to work here. All he did is go inside and talk to one of the employees, I think he got interviewed right away and was called two days after." Sara shrugs.

"Alright, I'll go in there, later, maybe." I am a bit surprised by the support Sara is giving. She's simply speaking to me and trying to help me as if she knows me. Maybe I misjudged her, maybe she's really nice and I pushed her buttons way too much.

"I don't think you should wait." Sara says. "Because they might get people and then remove the ad. It happens." I'm not sure what Sara's exactly saying. "How about we go get the things we want, get them back to the dorm and then come here? We could have something to eat. Did you eat anything?" And this astonishes me even more, because Sara is asking me to join her for a meal, in a cafe.

"Are you asking me out, Sara Smith?" I wiggle my eyebrows at her, even though I know I should stop teasing her already, but I really can't help it. It's fun to do that.

Sara rolls her eyes and starts walking, not giving me the benefit to enjoy my teasing. I see she's learning from me, to just ignore and keep the other on fire. And this girl said she's not smart, now I doubt it.

Sara and I did what we were originally out to do and the more I watched Sara walking, the more my curiosity fattened and ordered me to smother her in questions. But I decided to wait until we're back in the cafe and we're seated in front of each other so I could begin a conversation with Sara. I will try my best not to turn it into another one of our who's gonna win in the battle of words this time.

I look at the stores that we pass one by one, and nothing catches my attention more than the sex store that Sara passed as quickly as she could. I've never bought a toy before because I'm under eighteen. But soon enough I can finally stash some for my own entertainment and pleasure, and some to use on the women I'm going to fuck.

Then we enter the store Sara told me about and I pick my cabinet out of the many choices I see. Sara buys scissors, and I add a mug with Winnie The Pooh painted on it. I don't let Sara pay, and sneak her scissors in with my other stuff and pay before she notices.

When she does notice, we go into another argument that is not even worth documenting. And it makes me feel strange because then Sara insisted she'd pay for my sandwich at the shop. It's like I'm dating this woman and I don't even know her. It's like we're going on a date and dates remind me of my middle school awkward self with boys who didn't know how to treat a girl.

I push the thoughts that linger there inside my head and decide to enjoy this day and this new friend I just made.

We walk back to the cafe' and I swear if I walked everyday that much, I'm gonna burn every extra kilo calorie I have on my thighs or my belly, which is not a bad thing, except I hate walking.

Sara does the talking for me as if she's my older sister or a guardian or something. One of the employees smiles at me and shows me where to go and get interviewed. I didn't think it was as simple as Sara has told me, but Vancouver been a good bitch to me so far. I don't wanna jinx it, but I think I'm gonna like it here, and I'm gonna like being a roommate to Sara.

"So you go, and I'll order us something to eat. What do you want?" Sara asks me and I tell her what I want, trying not to order anything that's too pricey, since I don't even know her yet.

When I return, I find Sara seated on a table for two. Two tuna sandwiches on it, coffee for her and water for me. She hasn't started eating yet, and this also makes me feel strange, because I don't even know why she waited for me to dive in.

I go up to her and smile as I sit and reach for the water bottle. She smiles back at me and asks, "That was quick, how did it go?"

I swallow the gulp of water and nod. "I think they're desperate to have new employees. I think it went well, the dude said they'll inform me soon enough." I go for my sandwich, without even waiting for Sara to reach for hers. "God, I'm hungry."

She eyes me at first and I can see her nose twitch in the disgust her face is trying to show as I take a bite and the lettuce from the sandwich all falls down from my mouth. But then Sara averts her gaze and looks at my eyes instead of my mouth. "It's because most of the students aren't back yet from vacation, and without students in need for jobs, nobody works in these places."

Sara reaches for her own sandwich and takes a very small bite and I almost get doubts that Sara is actually a small bird and not a human being. "How come you're here so early then?"

Sara doesn't answer until she swallows what's in her mouth. "I was informed I'll be a roommate to a freshman, and freshmen get here before us to get to know the place, so I came here earlier in order to let you know on all the rules and such."

"What about your girlfriend, is she here?" I begin to ask the questions that my mind is curious about.

"Mhm." Sara takes a sip of her coffee and she continues, "Some students are already here, mostly seniors who need to work on their graduation projects."

"How come you don't see her?" I ask, and Sara looks at me for what seems like a long while, so I'm obliged to continue. "My friends who are dating, they stick like a glue to their partners, some even neglect their friends. And here you are out with me as if you don't have a woman who lives in the same dorm as us."

Sara laughs and nods her head. "I think when you're dating someone for two years, you eventually become bored of being with them twenty-four seven and you two would just want to do things alone." Sara traces the napkin on the table and continues, "I mean I saw her this morning, I need to breathe, you know."

"Well, I think that's just the end of a relationship both parties are trying too hard to hold on to." I give Sara a look that I kind of regret because I promised I wouldn't bother Sara, but here I am pushing my nose in her business without even knowing her.

But Sara doesn't seem the least bothered, she simply shrugs and smiles. Which makes my mind furious with more questions. Maybe Sara is available and with more effort I could get her in my bed and get inside her pants.

"So, tell me about you." Sara finally says. "You don't have a girlfriend?"

I shake my head and smile at her. "Hell no." I laugh. "I'm not into the whole dating thing." I wink at Sara and take another sip of my water after finishing my sandwich.

"How come?" Sara asks.

"Well," I don't know what to say, I honestly haven't thought much about it. What to tell people? "I don't know. I guess, I'm just not into the whole love thing. I don't want to waste my time on human beings who will leave eventually."

"What makes you think they will leave?"

"I've seen my mother moving on from one man to another, they always leave her." I explain.

"That's not a way to measure it. My parents have been married for more than thirty years. Nobody left the other even though they had lots of complications in the relationship. It's just that you haven't met the right person yet."

"And have you?" I ask with a raised brow.

"Not really." She answers. Now I am sure her relationship with her girlfriend is either done or heading to a doom.

"Not even your girlfriend?" I push more, trying to grasp more details.

"When I first started dating Emy, of course I thought she's the one and all. Whenever I date someone I think like that, but right now?" She trails off with a question and a chuckle. "She's like my friend more than my girlfriend."

"Ohhhhhh." I give her one of my wicked smiles. "No sex, huh?" I see her face turning red.

"Not that, but," She trails off once again, clearly not that comfortable in opening up to me. "It's really...dry?" I nod in understanding. "It's like we either don't do it, or we do it just because we're...you know." Sara is both, shy and not shy. She can speak about such stuff in front of you but at the same time it's obvious she's sweating from embarrassment.

"If you want my opinion, you two either break up and see other people, or you Sara Smith, can simply sleep with other people." I point at myself. "And these people will show you the magical land of sexual euphoria, you'd want more and more and more." I keep pointing at me as she laughs. "And Emy doesn't have to know."

I think I just asked my roommate to sleep with me, and I think it made her laugh. Should I feel happy she's not bitching at me or sad she's laughing at me?

"Quit it, Quin." Sara says as she begins to stand up. "I don't cheat. And I definitely won't sleep with someone as desperate as you." Ouch...well, I think I should feel sad.

"Don't flatter yourself, sis." I say with a wink. "Nobody is as desperate for a good orgasm as much as you."

"Sis is one of the names I hate being called." Sara leaves the last sentence and focuses on the first.

"Well, look who doesn't care." We walk out of the cafe' without saying more words.

I broke my promise and she helped. But that doesn't matter because whenever we tease each other we get closer to sleep with each other. And now I am positive it's going to happen fairly soon.