It Won't Happen Again
Brooke was… weird.
Okay, sure, in class, Kate had gathered that she wasn’t exactly the mosy likable person on the block. People had talked about her behind her back - said she was just another weirdo, a stalker, super creepy, etc. And sure, she had never seemed super nice or interesting when they partnered - she just kinda… did all the work herself.
But now, Brooke Scott was laying in her apartment, listening to video game music and not really acknowledging her.
If Max had been laying here, doing this, it would’ve qualified as a hangout between friends. But Brooke wasn’t her friend, and didn’t seem interested in changing that.
And yet, every now and then, she’d look away - and then look back, and find Brooke staring at her with something that wasn’t quite disgust and wasn’t quite fascination.
Brooke was laying in the middle of her floor, and Kate had to say she was a little confused.
But Brooke didn’t seem to care if she was confused.
Clearly.
“Brooke?” Kate said, without any real question in mind. It was just kinda general confusion that made her end that sentence with a questioning lilt.
“Kate Marsh.” Brooke said, with a distinct lack of inflection.
“Why… why are you still here?”
Kate didn’t want to be rude - but this was a weird mostly-stranger, barging into her room and laying in the middle of her floor.
In skintight jeans.
And then continually crossing and uncrossing her legs.
“Why do you ask?” Brooke said, sitting up. “You want me to leave?”
“...Kinda, yeah.” Kate said, a tad bit reluctantly. She didn’t want to be rude, but…
“Alright. Tell me to get out.”
“...What?”
“Tell me, right now. Just say ‘get out, Brooke’ - and I will.”
Well that was an… oddly specific requirement.
And it seemed a little rude…
Brooke laid back again, crossing her legs (she really had to stop doing that) and listening to her music.
Well, she could… stay a little longer? Probably. Yeah, it… wasn’t like Kate was expecting company.
She didn’t say anything.
Brooke didn’t either.
“Why are you here, though?” Kate said, because she wasn’t letting this point go just like that. “I mean… you said you don’t like me, right?”
“Left.”
“...What?”
“Yes, I said I don’t like you. Your point?”
“Well, I mean,” Kate said, feeling a little stupid, “it seems obvious that there’s no reason to stay in the dorm of someone you don’t like, when you have your own in the same building.”
Brooke didn’t have anything to say to that, for a moment.
“...Well, honestly, this just won’t do.”
“...What?” Kate said.
“Get up.” Brooke said, sitting up herself and turning off her music. “I need your help with this one.”
“...That… you… what?” Kate tried again - but she was already getting up.
Brooke was weirdly persuasive.
“Come on - we’re taking a trip to my room.”
“...Okay?” Kate said, because really, why not at this point?
Brooke walked to her door, and Kate didn’t look at her.
Brooke’s dorm was… organized.
That was Kate’s first thought when she stepped inside, though it wasn’t quite entirely accurate. Brooke’s desk was a little messy - and the entire room was a little cluttered, honestly. Just… in an organized way.
Colourful posters plastered the closet door, and a poster ordering that she stay calm and do math glared at her from the slightly-ajar bathroom door. The majority of the posters were for movies, though - both famous and obscure ones. Star Wars,Terminator, Blade Runner, Die Hard, and Total Recall were all movies she’d heard of - but Source Code, Interstellar, Hiding Out, and Short Circuit were all ringing a distinct lack of bells. She made a mental note to check out Short Circuit, though - the robot on the poster was pretty cute.
There was a potted plant on her windowsill that looked oddly dangerous - like a breed of venus flytrap. Maybe it was one.
There was also a bookshelf, that had one of its four shelves dedicated to books and the other three dedicated to movies. When Brooke started opening cabinets, it became quite clear that there was a distinct lack of food in the dorm - and instead, the space was taken up by movies, comics, and books. The last being mostly… dictionaries, for some reason. And thesauruses.
She also had a few Chinese and Spanish dictionaries and books laying around, as well as one that looked to be about and/or in Latin.
She also had a copy of The Prince by someone called Machiavelli, who sounded vaguely familiar, presented in an oddly proud way - considering how battered the copy was.
When Brooke saw her staring at it, she diverted her attention from searching for… whatever she was looking for, to explain.
“It’s a first edition, in English. I haven’t quite learned Italian yet, but it’s on the list. It’s from the sixteen-forties, so… pretty damn valuable. It’s half the reason I have anti-theft measures in here.”
Kate sent a startled glance around, and Brooke made a tiny, weird noise that she quickly stifled.
“No, you won’t be able to see them. Don’t be idiotic. That would kinda defeat the point. Now where are those damn…”
Brooke’s sentence trailed off as she kept running through cabinets. She had a very weird amount of them - and a weird amount of little hideaway spaces she was using to store random things.
“Where… is all your food?” Kate finally asked, because it was actually starting to concern her a little.
“I eat take-out. Chinese food, mostly. Best part about Chinese - you always have leftovers.”
“Isn’t that… expensive?”
“Eh. Less expensive then you’d think. I don’t need to eat that much - never have.”
That was…
Brooke was weirdly interesting - and Kate was rapidly finding herself almost liking her.
Which was probably bad. After all - Brooke didn’t like her. And do unto others, and so on.
She couldn’t bring herself to really care. Brooke was interesting - she was interested. It made perfect sense.
Suddenly, Brooke slammed a cabinet home - on her own fingers. Of course, Kate didn’t see this - but she certainly heard the single, strangled “Fuck!” that Brooke let out as a result.
“Woah - uh, are you… okay?” She said, because Brooke was cradling her hand and gritting her teeth very hard - but, other then that, looked… remarkably unaffected. Considering how hard she had slammed that cabinet. Kate wouldn’t be shocked if she had broken fingers.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Brooke said instantly - and, again, aside from her grit teeth, she sounded… almost like she was telling the truth. “That was stupid of me. I wasn’t paying proper attention.”
“It’s… it’s not a problem - we’ve all done it before…” Kate said - because Brooke sounded honestly frustrated with herself, which Kate didn’t consider fair.
“Yes - now, we have. This is my first time, though. I’ve broken my perfect track record.”
Kate blinked.
“Wait… really? This is the first time you’ve slammed your fingers in something? I did it in a car door just like… a month ago.”
Brooke just shrugged, still cradling her hand.
“What can I say. I pay attention. Usually.” Brooke stared at her hand like it had betrayed her.
“Here - let me see it… you slammed it pretty hard…”
“No.”
Kate blinked.
“...What?”
“No, I won’t let you see it. I’m fine, Marsh, I already told you. I was stupid - it won’t happen again.”
Kate blinked rapidly as Brooke turned away.
This… wasn’t something she’d been ready for. Not from Brooke Scott, of all people.
“Uhm… okay?”
“Yes, okay. Now, we’ve got something to look for.”
Brooke stared at her injured hand for another moment - and then let it drop by her side and hang next to her. She started opening cabinets again - one-handed, this time.
Kate stared at her, and wondered who on earth Brooke Scott was.