Chapter 7 American Idiot

Moby looked directly at Mac, advancing towards him slowly with tension running all through his body. Mac avoided eye contact at all cost staying motionlessly at the table. Moby leaned in inches in front of Mac's face and said in a very angry, but unbelievably calm voice: "Listen here, you damn shithead, that bloke's me mate, you fuck with him one more time and I'm gonna mess you up big time! Your gonna be sore in body parts you didn't even know you had. I'm gonna pound your face till the cows come home, you insignificant piss-face. Got it?"

Mac hurried to get up and leave the room but as he passed through the door, he turned around and informed:"Who died and made you king, dawg. I'm not scared of you."

Moby, now alone and really pissed off, turned off the fighting game as well as the television and headed to his room to clear his head. He passed a room where the three girls had gone, now talking more calmly. He climbed the stairs slowly wondering if Psymon would be found in their room or not. Arriving at door 306, Moby got his keycard out, swiping it through the lock and then pushing the door open. Psymon was inside, lying on his bed, watching "What Not to Wear". When he noticed Moby entering, he turned off the television and let out a forced "Hey".
"Hey" Moby answered back
"What's goin' on in the lounge?"
"Everybody left."
Psymon said nothing. Moby sat down on his bed, facing the Canadian. He then spoke up softly:
"Why don't you stand up to him?" He asked Psymon
Psymon looked at Moby without answering after a few moments he answered.
"I don't know..."
"He's just a wimp; don't let him walk all over you…" The Brit replied
"I guess I just don't wanna get him pissed off, or whatever, he would go and tell everyone and I really don't want that to happen. When he does things like that I feel like a little defenseless kid, I can't explain."
"Hate to rain on your parade, but weither you stick up for yourself or not, he's gonna tell everyone. You can't let him degrade you like this, stop letting him run your life."
Psymon said nothing but sat up on his bed, facing Moby.
"…Do I act like a fag?" he asked His roommate with a worried face.
"No, of course not" He answered. "Why?"
"Well how the hell did Mac find out? Either he figured it out... or he heard us talking, which is unlikely cause we'd have heard someone, right?" Psymon asked
"Well he must have heard us because he wouldn't be acting this way if he didn't know for sure."

"That prick" Psymon let out.

After a short silence Psymon spoke again: "Does it bother you that I'm… the way I am"
Moby thought for a second, before saying: "Not at all, what you do in your bedroom doesn't concern me… Unless we're sharing a room… and I'm in it."
Psymon gave a short laugh and then said: "Okay"

At that moment there was a knock on the door, Moby got up and answered; it was Zoë.

"Hey can I use your bathroom? Mine needs to be fixed and the lodge hasn't called a plumber yet." Lie. She just wanted to see Psymon... And her plan worked.

"Hey you!" She let out in a flirty tone. "What's up?"
"Hi, nothing much, I…" Psymon started before being interrupted by Moby.
"Bathroom's that way, luv!" Moby informed her.
"Oh, yeah, hehehe" She mumbled.
"Man, She's obsessed!" he thought as he figured out her intention of visiting Psymon. "Poor girl… " ... "OH MY GOD!"
He turned around to see the shut bathroom door and then quickly approached Psymon, speaking low so Zoë wouldn't hear him.
"Tomorrow is Zoë's birthday! I completely forgot to get her something! She's gonna kill me!" Moby said in a near-panic voice.
"Well calm down, eh! Look, if we leave now, and I mean now, we might be able to find a store that's open" Psymon said as he looked at his watch.
The two looked at each other and Psymon started once again: "Do we just leave her here... Or what?"
Moby tried to come up with something quick but improvising wasn't his strong point:
"Uh, we left the stove on in the kitchen, and, uh… me and Psymon are going to turn it off,... and we'll be back in an hour!" He was even worse at lying than Zoë was. Psymon gave him a screwed-up "What the hell?" face.
"HUH!" She yelled in the bathroom.
Psymon took over: "We're going to Blockbuster, Horror flick sound good?"
"Hey wait! I wanna come too!" She answered. By the time she got out, the room was empty.
"Oh great guys, thanks!" She though, still not believing that the two boys actually abandoned her. She looked around the cluttered room and then checked out in the hall, to find absolutely nobody. She came back into the room, sat on Psymon's bed and then layed in it. She wrapped herself in his bed sheets and realized this would be the perfect time to explore a bit. She got up from the bed and walked across the floor with clothes scattered all over the place. She spotted a white tank top belonging to Psymon and decided to try on the oversized garment. The smell from the shirt was a lovely one. It was masculine but delicate, sweet but virile. Zoë was truly entranced.

There was a knock at the door and, without thinking, Zoë answered it. It was Marisol
"Here I… ZOE?... Uh,... wel...l anyway this is Psymon's sweater; he left it in my room, could you give it to him?"
"Uh, okay" Zoë said as the latin girl handed her the grey sweater with a monkey on the front and a banana on the sleeve
"What are you doing wearing Psymon's tank top?..." Marisol asked
"What are you doing with Psymon's sweater in your room?" Zoe responded, looking at her with a mind-your-own-buisness glance
"Chica, don't even start that with me! We were talking in my room earlier today and he took it off and forgot it."
"Oh" Zoë mumbled.
Marisol turned around to leave, thinking to herself: "Freak!"
The American girl shut the door and continued her search. She looked into his suitcase and started moving stuff around, exploring his luggage.
"Hmmmm, so he does wear jock-straps!" She thought to herself laughing
She continued going through clothes and undergarments until she stumbled upon a package of photographs. She made sure she was alone and then opened the package. She guessed they were about a year old because Psymon had his older haircut in them. By the looks of them, one could easily guess that they were from his hometown of Saskatoon, just by looking at the scenery. There was one picture of him and a girl, who had to be his sister, they looked so much alike, another of a family meal, one of Psymon and a huge fluffy sheep-dog, one of Psy on a BMX and one of him with bunch of friends and a pack of all-terrain vehicles. The last picture was one of Psymon driving an all terrain vehicle, smiling from ear to ear, with an unrecognizable passenger holding on to him,... tightly. "Who is that chick holding on to my Psymon? God, Nike sweaters are so passé. Damn helmet, now I'll never know what she looks like" She thought.

She heard a noise. Immediately, she put the photos back, took off the shirt and looked out into the hall. There was nobody there. "There's never anybody in these damn halls." She thought laughing at herself. She figured she better leave, not wanting to invade privacy too much, planning to finish reading her novel instead of waiting for the guys who left to god-knows-where. She left the room and walked down the hall.

Zoë was completely oblivious to Psymon's "nature". Unlike some of the other competitors, she had no idea. And if she did, she'd be absolutely crushed.

Another little fact about Zoe was that she never looked at the back of photos, but it's not a bad habit to pick up, because had she tonight, she would have seen, behind that last picture, the name "Ethan" written down surrounded by a flock of hearts.

As she walked up the stairs, she missed the last step and fell flat on her face.
"Man, I must be the unluckiest girl in the world!" She said.
Luckily there was nobody to witness her fall,... or her truly ironic (and true) statement.

end of chapter 7