D.A Smith: JBailey, LadyALover95, and Silencebeyondthestars: Welcome! Hope you guys like the next part! Thanks to the Guest that reviewed, by the way. I couldn't respond to it, but I just wanted to say, Thank you! :D
So….here we go!

CHAPTER 6

Wednesday was Physical Chemistry day. I sat on my bed with a bunch of colored flashcards and a blue inked pen. I reached for my notebook and started comparing my notes with the textbook lying to my right, cross-referencing important information, and passing that information to my flashcards. I did this for a couple of hours, until Lila walked into the dorm, slamming the door behind her and stomping her way to her bed.

"Something wrong?" I asked, looking at her as she let herself fall to the mattress face down.

"Really harsh day today. Definitely hate Wednesdays. " Her muffled voice said, her face buried in a pillow.

"Too much work?"

Her head lifted from the pillow and looked at me. "Just like a fifteen-hundred word essay on ancient civilizations."

"You can manage it. I can help you if you want, although I'm not a history major."

"Just proofread my essay. I struggle with writing so much." She sat now in her bed with her legs crossed. "Want to go shopping today?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "I have to get something for my interview this Friday!"

"You got an interview?! For what?!"

I told Lila about the lab and she was so excited, she took my hand and dragged me to the door. "We can get something formal for you, something cute for me. It's going to be the best shopping experience ever!"

We shopped until we dropped. Literally. We sat completely tired on a bench outside of a department store. And we only ended up with a dress each, which was pretty good. At least we got something. Her dress was a polka dot dress with not too much cleavage and mine was a plain dark blue dress, length below the knee.

"I'm hungry. And so, so tired." Lila muttered, trying to catch her breath.

I only managed to nod in agreement. We had been shopping for four hours straight, which, I admit, is not that much compared to our record (seven hours on a Saturday), but I was still pretty tired. "Do you want to grab dinner on a restaurant here or go to the dining hall?"

She thought for a moment and finally said, "Let's just go to the dining hall. I need to save up my money."

"Okay." I agreed and we headed back to school.

We didn't even go to our dorm to leave our brand new dresses. We went directly to the food. Today the hall was serving a piece of steak and vegetables. I felt fancy.

"Great food today!" Lila commented as we sat down at the table we were sitting in yesterday. Our table, not the one we sat in with Sherlock. "I can't believe they served steak." I didn't answered since I was already eating. It was delicious. "Where's your friend, by the way?"

I looked at her questioningly.

"What's his face? Sherryl?"

I swallowed the steak and smiled. "Sherlock."

"Yeah, that guy."

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"He wasn't such an asshole. He was kind of nice. Still a jerk, though."

"What? Not an asshole but still a jerk?"

"Yeah. You know, lovable-jerk kind of guy. I mean, the kind of jerk that can't help himself? Kind of like an alien?"

I thought about it for a moment. It was true, he couldn't help himself to be the way he was. It was in his nature. "I guess," I replied.

"Still a jerk, though." She took a bite of her steak and looked up. "Speak of the devil" she said, half chewing, covering her mouth with her hand.

I turned around and saw Sherlock approaching us, empty handed. He sat to my right and looked at me directly, "You were out, right?"

I looked at him wide-eyed.

"Your bag." He said, pointing to the plastic bag containing my dress. "Not a stalker. Just an observer."

I sighed in relief. "Yes, we went out shopping."

"You haven't gone to your room, I suppose?"

I looked at Lila through the corner of my eye. She shrugged and I answered, "Eh…no. Why?"

"Great," he muttered to himself as if this was a small victory and then said to Lila and me, "There have been reports to the campus police that someone has been entering the dorms stealing stuff. The hallway cameras haven't picked up anything, not one person entering the rooms but its occupants. I haven't actually seen the crime scene, but would love to."

"And you think our room has been robbed?"

"Well, how long have you been out?" He looked to my feet and said, "Judging by the state of your feet, I would say around four hours, right? So, yeah, it's a matter of probability, since the reports started coming in two hours ago. Plus, only the bedrooms with twin beds were robbed. No single bed rooms."

"And, how exactly do you know all this?" Lila asked, taking a sip from her drink.

"They gave me a position with the campus police. Didn't I mention that? I file reports." Both Lila and I shook our heads. "Well, anyway, nothing this exciting has happened. Ever. And they wouldn't let me investigate, so can I please see if your room has been robbed? I want to see if the robber left any clue behind."

"I don't think it has been robbed." Lila responded and I agreed.

"Plus, we have to finish eating. Aren't you going to have dinner?" I said.

"No, this is too exciting. Just hurry it up."

We walked up to our floor in the dormitories and reached the door. I pointed to the lock. "See? Not forced."

"That doesn't prove anything." He replied. I rolled my eyes and entered my key, opening the door calmly.

It was a mess. Notebooks everywhere, our bed sheets on the floor, our nightstand lamp was thrown to the ground. I stared at the scene and wanted to cry. Why would anyone do this?

"How come your room is bigger than mine?" Sherlock asked, looking at the walls and the roof.

"I'll call the police," Lila said, stepping out with her cellphone in hand.

Sherlock entered the room, walking past me, his coat's collar up. I was dumfounded and completely frozen. He, on the other hand, was active, and knelt, looking at the rug closely. He took something with his hand, took a plastic bag from inside his coat and inserted it inside the clear bag. "I need to buy a magnifying glass," he said. "That would be useful." He looked at the sheets, at the lamp and at the pillows. He sniffed the air. He looked outside our window.

"What are you doing?" I asked, finally getting past the shock.

"Investigating." He replied simply.

"I know you like detective stories, but you are not Poirot."

"Of course I'm not Poirot. I'm Sherlock Holmes." He said as he took a pen and examined it. "There's a difference."

"Show off."

"Thanks." He replied absent-mindedly.