Mac watched Net curiously from his computer. Net was taller than he was, but not by much. He’d put up his usual defense towards people, by being a jerk. He looked over to the modem and checked the Ethernet as Net rolled over onto his side. He didn’t want to have to share a room—this was ridiculous. He didn’t even want to go to Maine, but his Grandma made him. He hung his legs over the edge of his single bed, in a room that was a mirror image. One side looked like the other, except for the people. The desks were the same everything, across from each other, made from the same fake wood. The beds had the same frame, size, comforter, and sheets. The large window covered the wall across from the door, with a navy blue curtain over it, pulled aside and tied back. He roamed around on the internet, and then became bored. He shut down his laptop, thinking he needed to put on a password with Net there, as he crawled under the covers, fully dressed in his clothes. He became annoyed by the bulge of his wallet in his back pocket, so he took the chain off his pants and pulled it out, throwing in onto the floor. He looked at the metal of his chain from his bed. It was starting to turn from its silver color, to silver with splotches of bronze. The snaps from it had worn numerous holes in his back pockets of his jeans, but he’d learned to live with it. He looked up at Net again—his broad shoulders. He had a heavier build than Mac, who could pass for fourteen or fifteen if he wasn’t so tall. Net could pass for twenty, easily. Mac rolled over onto his side to face the wall, causing the bed frame to creek. He hated the bed already—he could see it—move an inch and it creeks. He slowly curled his legs up and pulled the covers up to his shoulders. He wasn’t cold, but he didn’t really care. He hadn’t sleep in literally twenty-four hours with being up all the day before, catching his flight at 10 at night, arriving at 7 in the morning in a different time zone, unpacking, and now he was going to sleep. His eyes quickly shut, ignoring the sinking sun in the brown smog outside.

Net sat up and looked at his watch—one in the morning. He swore and climbed out of bed, he hadn’t meant to sleep that long. He looked over at Mac, who had kicked off some of the covers, and was still dressed. Net shook him slightly by the shoulder, only to get hit in the face. “Go away,” Mac mumbled, rolling onto his stomach and putting his face in the pillow. “Don’t you want to change out or anything?” Net asked, leaning over him—he was small, cute small. “No. I’ll change in the morning. Screw off.” Net backed off and pulled some clothes out of his bag, as well as tooth brush and tooth paste. He didn’t know if dorm showers had a time frame, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to get airplane off of him. It had cost his older brother over a thousand dollars to send him one way on a plane to Maine from Dakota. Planes ran on anything anyone could reduce to something that would fuel a plane, which meant not a lot of things now days. He walked down the quiet hall, and into the unlocked shower room. He pulled off his old clothes and made a mental note to find the campus laundry in the morning as he adjusted the temperature of the shower. He put his hands to the wall and dropped his head, letting the water run down him. He’d pro’lly be pretty cute if he wasn’t such an ass. But he said his parents got shipped off after he was born, so what? He’s got to be older than me by a few months at least. Net rubbed himself down with soap and ran shampoo through his hair, taking his time, trying to provoke his body with thoughts of Mac before he went back—he knew he couldn’t jerk-off about Mac with him in the room. He was about to turn the water off when he heard the door to the showers open. “You woke me up and now I cant sleep, darn it.” Mac scowled as he walked by, making sure not to look at Net. He went into the shower nook next to him, the wall between them only going up to the middle of his chest. Net quickly looked away, swearing to himself in his head. Mac was going to provoke him. He bit his lip and turned off the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist quickly. He was glad he’d brushed his teeth before, because he ran out. He got back to the room and locked the door. He calmed down, body and all. What the hell was that? I hardly saw anything. How could I… He jolted upright as the handle turned, but stuck. “Unlock the door.” Mac demanded from the other side. “Ah… one sec.” Net rushed to put boxers and pants on, before letting him in. “What the hell was that for?” Mac complained as he walked in, and to Net’s relief, dressed. “I… felt dizzy.” Mac shrugged and finished drying his hair. “I don’t have classes tomorrow. Wake me up before two in the afternoon and I’ll kill you.”