Chapter 1
"I think I'm gonna throw up."
"Cole,"
comes Sana's disapproving voice over the phone.
Cole reaches his hand up to plug his nose.
"It can't be that bad."
Cole eyes the tower of oozing, dirty dishes.
As if sensing his attention, the off-balanced mountain emits another wave of stench that has Cole's eyes watering.
"It's worse.
Whatever you think," Cole warns, switching the phone from one ear to the other and blinking rapidly to clear his sight, "it's way worse."
"Doesn't each dorm have a student to deal with these conflicts?
Have you spoken to the RA?"
"I tried that," Cole hisses into the phone.
"I begged her to talk some sense into him.
So finally, we had the meeting.
It lasted two minutes.
And then -" Cole pauses to let the injustice linger in the air for a moment - "she stayed over in his room."
Sana hums appreciatively.
"Well, is he very handsome?"
"Mom," Cole whines.
Seeing the state of their shared kitchen after his roommate uses it is enough to make Cole itchy all over.
He thrives in cleanliness; he lives to organize the utensils into neat little stacks and wipe the counters after every meal.
He can hardly think in clutter.
"You're missing the point.
He's - he's my worst nightmare." Cole wipes his nose with the back of his hand.
"I already tried to swap rooms, but the university won't let me.
And everyone I bring around to knock some sense into him, he charms them like some..." Cole drifts off, waving his hands in the air.
"... some evil little siren.
At this point, I'm like a cat with a mouse in my teeth.
I'm
bringing
him more people to have sex with."
"Cole!"
I'm sorry." Cole collapses into a wooden chair around their toy-sized dining table, the pile of dishes winking at him in the sterile, institutional lighting of the kitchen.
"I don't mean to complain.
It's just - I can't live like this.
And the worst thing is, he
That's why he doesn't lift a finger."
"So that's the plan?
Keep cleaning up his messes?"
Cole sighs into the phone, his voice cracking.
Guess so."
Sana tsks.
"I wish I could go over there and knock some sense into him."
"Me too," Cole whispers.
"I love you.
Sorry to keep bringing this up."
"We love you too.
It's alright,"
Sana assures.
Another, deeper voice chimes in:
"He sounds like a real piece of work."
"He is," Cole answers his dad weakly.
He side-eyes the stack of bowls and plates one last time before clearing his throat.
"I should go."
"We're excited to see you next month,"
Sana exclaims.
Cole can practically hear her grin.
"And we'll get to meet this famed Krasnov family,"
Mark chimes in.
Cole buries his head in his hand.
I hope not."
"Maybe the apple falls far from the tree?"
Sana tries.
Cole brings his empty hand to his phone-holding one to roll up his sleeve.
"Yeah," he says dimly.
And then he's hanging up and rolling up his second shirt sleeve.
He's just picked up the first dish in the pile when the front door swings open so hard it rattles the ceiling fan.
Cole drops the wet plate into the sink with a clatter.
"Krasnov," Cole starts as he rounds the corner, forcing authority into his voice.
"I thought I asked you to -" Cole cuts himself off.
Vadim is not alone.
Vadim's sparkling blue eyes descend on Cole with pure amusement dancing in them, as if Cole is a court jester he's summoned for his own entertainment.
He's wearing a long-sleeve compression shirt that hugs his broad shoulders.
The shirt is rumpled at his pale waist, as if someone had been fondling it.
With the seam tugged up, the sharp dip of Vadim's V-line winks up at him.
It's decorated with a smattering of moles like body glitter.
Cole could have gone his whole life without seeing the moles on Vadim Krasnov's stomach.
Cole presses his lips together.
"Hello," he offers to the guest Vadim has brought inside: a thin blonde wearing a hulking winter coat.
"I'm Tessa." She smiles sweetly at Cole.
Cole puts embarrassingly little effort into remembering her name.
It's harsh, but he's seen enough friendly faces cycle in and out of their door to know that Vadim doesn't fuck the same person twice.
Before Cole can open his mouth to respond, she adds:
"I know who you are." She looks at Vadim.
"Who both of you are." She makes a swooping gesture with her hands, like she's swatting at a puck.
"Campus legends."
Cole smiles stiffly.
His eyes refocus on Vadim.
"So, your dishes have been sitting in the sink all week."
Vadim quirks his head, as if Cole were speaking French to him.
He glances towards Tessa, who simply grins back at him like he hung the moon.
"We have project," Vadim says finally, nodding to the female guest.
He blinks, a slow-growing grin forming on his pink lips, before announcing:
"Might be overnight project."
Tessa slaps Vadim's arm, giggling.
Cole wants to slap his face.
"That's fine," Cole allows, eyeing Tessa before turning back to Vadim, "but, in the future, I'd appreciate some notice."
Vadim leans in to whisper something into Tessa's ear that has her grinning and gripping his upper arm.
Cole only makes out one word of it:
uptight.
"You think I'm uptight?" Cole spits, his face reddening.
Vadim finally straightens up from where he bent to whisper in Tessa's ear.
Vadim smirks so wide at Cole that it might be mistaken as friendly, if Cole didn't know him any better.
"No." He glances up and down Cole's body, a heavy look that has Cole shifting his weight from foot to foot.
"I said, your pants are tight."
And then he's tugging the girl along, further into their shared apartment, and she does a poor job of covering her face to stifle her giggles as they pass by Cole.
They tumble into Vadim's bedroom and he slams the door, as usual, with the force of a wrecking ball - as if Cole would ever willingly venture into the shithole that must be Vadim Krasnov's bedroom.
Cole huffs, rolling his sleeves back up again from where they've fallen.
He drifts back to the kitchen, where he flicks the faucet on and begins scrubbing at Vadim's first dirty dish.
He lost this stalemate, he'll admit it, but it's simply because he can only live in self-imposed squalor for so long.
As he works up to the final bowl, he glances down at the black skinny jeans he bought this past summer with his mom.
He furrows his eyebrows.
"I thought these were in," he mumbles to himself.