Chereads / There Might Be Dragons / Chapter 11 - A Flatmate

Chapter 11 - A Flatmate

Alex liked to think he had been a decent flatmate to Jack for the past three or four years. He didn't take things that weren't his from the fridge or use up all the hot water in the mornings or even heat leftover fish in the microwave. And to his credit, Jack hadn't been half bad either. At first, he was unpleasant in his disposition, but he made an effort to be out of Alex's sight most of the time. And that went away once they started becoming friendly towards each other. Sure, he was still a little messy and would sometimes risk getting them both in trouble when he did things like break curfew or bring in cigarettes and beer, but it was nothing that made living with him particularly miserable.

It felt like Matthew Montoya was doing everything in his power to be the most miserable flatmate on the face of the planet.

Alex tried to keep his hopes up that first night. That Matthew would just be cold and distant and that was fine. Alex probably would be too if he was in his position. The first sign that maybe Matthew had something more passive-aggressively sinister in mind was the music. Once the album from the artist he was listening to when Alex first got there finished, he put on one that was decidedly less pleasant on the ears. Alex told himself he didn't mind. He had always wanted to experience more pop culture after all. It was a nice change of pace from Bach, he insisted.

Matthew kept the music going pretty late, which Alex also tried to rationalize away. He was still on American time, so he probably wasn't tired when Alex tried to go to sleep around midnight that first day. They didn't have classes until a couple of days from then, so it wasn't like Alex even had to rest that badly. The dorm curfew wouldn't even be in effect until then. It was fine.

At two in the morning, Matthew Montoya turned the volume up.

That little shit, Alex's inner voice said as the heavy guitar riffs from the music rattled his teeth.

"Don't," Alex told himself, grabbing his pillow and curling it around his head. As if that was going to help at all. "Getting angry won't solve anything."

Oh? And sitting here just taking this abuse will? Sean's right, you are a doormat.

"It's not that bad. It's just a little music. He probably doesn't realize how loud it's gotten."

He turned it up you twat.

"Shut up!" Alex shouted, then immediately covered his mouth. He glanced at the wall connecting his room and Matthew Montoya's, sure that he had heard his shout. But he heard nothing to verify that. Not a shout-back. Not the music going up or down in volume. Just the same heavy guitar chords and wailing voice of that band's singer.

Alex sighed and curled up onto his right side, using the fact that he heard poorly out of his left ear to his advantage. It deafened the music slightly, but he could still feel it in the vibrations it sent through the walls. If Sean was here, he would have gone to tell him off. He may have even thrown the stereo out the window if he was annoyed enough. Jack would have sat through it only so he could figure a way to annoy Matthew Montoya back. Alex wanted to go talk with him, to communicate normally with one stranger. But that look on his face back then told Alex that Matthew had made up his mind about Alexander Conrad already. It was like Jack had said when they were younger. They had signs above their heads that everyone read differently, and whatever Matthew Montoya saw made him barrel down the warpath.

"Maybe that's a tad dramatic," he muttered to himself as soon as he conjured up that image. "It's just music."

Just music, so far, his inner voice clarified. Who knows what he'll try next when he sees this doesn't get the rise that he so clearly wants out of you?

"You don't know that's what he wants."

You don't know that it's not.

"Piss off."

Alex did eventually get to sleep that night, despite the loud music and the talking to himself. He woke up not at all rested at about eight o'clock the next morning. After falling asleep to the music, the quiet he woke up to was almost scary. He hopped down from the bed and shuffled out of his room, poking his head into the lounge before crossing the threshold that separated it from the hallway. Matthew Montoya was there, sitting on the floor again and using the sofa as a backrest.

Does he not know how to use furniture? Alex's snarky voice wondered.

Shut it, Alex thought back.

Matthew didn't notice him right away. He was too busy eating a bowl full of cereal and flipping through another magazine while a coffee mug was precariously balanced on his right knee. Alex was tempted to turn around and go hide in his room until Matthew was gone, but that was a little too pathetic, even for him. So, he straightened his back and tried his best to look confident as he walked into the lounge.

Matthew glanced up from his magazine when Alex entered, and Alex felt a little too relieved by his neutral expression.

"Um, good morning," Alex said, wincing at how his voice broke slightly. "Did you, um, sleep well last night? I know the time zone change can be strange at first."

Matthew stared at him blankly for a moment before grinning in a way that reminded him of Jack. "Oh, I slept great," he said, and Alex heard his heavy California accent for the first time. "How about you, man?"

Alex tried not to let it show that he knew what Matthew Montoya was hoping the answer to that was. "Fine. I slept fine."

"Sure, you did."

A bit of an awkward silence fell over them, as Matthew looked up at Alex expectantly.

"Was there, not anything else you wanted to say to me," he continued. "Just wanted to ask me how my morning was?"

"... Yes."

"Not even... shut up?"

Alex's face nearly caught fire. So, he heard Alex shouting at himself. "That wasn't... I wasn't talking to you. I'm sorry, I probably sounded rude."

Matthew frowned. "So, the music didn't bother you?" He almost sounded disappointed.

"No, I, um, didn't mind it. I liked the first one. The one you were listening to when I got in. What are they called?"

Matthew looked Alex up and down before shrugging. "They're a local LA band. You wouldn't have heard of them."

He didn't follow up by actually giving a name, so Alex figured he should move the conversation along. "Anyways, I can imagine it's a lot, you being here. In a new country, and... well, there's been a lot of commotion about the... changes this year."

"Commotion is a cute way to put it."

Alex looked down, trying to keep himself from stumbling over his next few words. "I just wanted to let you know that I'd be more than happy to do anything I can to help you settle in here."

Matthew looked at him with a blank expression before leaning back against the sofa and eating the last spoonful of his cereal. "These dorm walls are thinner than I thought they would be, you know," he said once he swallowed his food. "Figured with all the money you people have, you could have afforded better soundproofing."

"The building is pretty old," Alex said without looking at him. "Any time they want to renovate it's always a bit of a battle against all the alumni and donors who want to keep things the way it's always been. For tradition's sake."

"Yeah, I hear there's a lot of that around here."

Alex winced. "Look, maybe we should address the elephant sooner rather than later."

Matthew put his bowl down on his left knee so he could take a sip of his coffee. He looked up at Alex over the rim of his mug with an innocent expression. "What elephant, Mr. Conrad?"

Alex frowned. "Alexander," he corrected. "Or Alex. I know you probably have your assumptions about why we were put up together, but-"

"But? Are you saying my assumptions will be wrong? You don't even know what they are, Conrad."

"Alex."

"You're my handler, right? I make you people nervous, so they wanted one of you to keep an eye on me. Stop me before I start handing out 'Down with the aristocracy' pamphlets in the quad. Or maybe you're more like a spy. Waiting for me to do something to warrant getting kicked out of here when I think no one's looking."

"I didn't have a choice in this either, you know."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. It must be really hard for you to be forced to mingle with the common breeds."

"I didn't-"

"Look," Matthew picked up his bowl and mug and stood in one movement. He was about a foot shorter than Alex, but he had a way of holding himself that made Alex feel much smaller than him, "I'm not going to pretend I like you guys. I don't. But I don't hate you nearly as much as you all seem to think. I have no grand plans of reordering the social paradigm of our species. I simply do not care enough to do something like that. So, you can tell your family they have nothing to worry about and we can be on our separate ways. You can go back to whatever penthouse setup you had before and they can shuffle me off to the dorm with all the other poor kids."

"That's not going to work."

"What, you don't believe me?"

"It's not about what I believe." It never is.

"Look I just really wanted to get through this year in one piece. Having one of you breathing down my neck is going to send me spiraling within days."

"I'll try my best to make myself scarce, but I'm afraid you're stuck with me. I'm sorry."

Matthew narrowed his eyes at Alex, clearly not trusting him at all. "I'll bet you can make it happen if you wanted to."

"I know I can't."

Matthew grinned like Jack again. "Maybe you're just not properly motivated yet, Conrad," he said, emphasizing his last name.

Alex hoped he didn't look as nervous as that smile made him feel. He suddenly remembered what his father had told him back on the day they had spoken by the pond. You know you two might be poised to get along fine. Not if Matthew Montoya had anything to say about it.

Alex watched silently as Matthew walked to the kitchenette, drinking the milk leftover from his cereal as he went. Matthew didn't even look back at him as he washed his bowl and spoon in the sink. Alex stood there for a couple more seconds until he felt too much like an idiot to handle, and he turned around to go back to his room. As he shut the door, he fought the urge to wish for the first time in his life that he could go back home.

"This guy sounds like a tool," Jack said as he unzipped his suitcase. It had been just over a full day since Alex's attempt at talking with Matthew Montoya. He hadn't tried again since, and the music continued through that night too. Jack came in on a redeye and was slated to be at the school by 7 am, so Alex figured he would help him unpack since he couldn't sleep anyways. Jack was surprised to see him waiting by the dorm entrance but understood the second he asked how his new roommate was and Alex just grimaced.

"He's just angry," Alex said, not sure why he was defending him. He was sitting on the sofa in Jack's lounge, unpacking a box he had labeled Dirty Magazines but was just filled with school books. "He doesn't want to feel like he's under some totalitarian regime."

"You are hardly a dictator, Al."

"He doesn't know that."

"He's jumping to conclusions. It's annoying. And not fair to you."

"If I recall you were not exactly delighted to have me assigned to be your babysitter either."

"Yeah, but that was nothing against you. It just felt demeaning to be deemed in need of one."

"I'm sure it's the same for him. That's why I'm not taking it personally. To him, I'm just another person who thinks he's not good enough to be here. He was probably hoping that after being surrounded by sharks all day he wouldn't have to bunk with one too."

"What if he keeps ramping up his battle tactics? You said he played the music again."

"It was worse than the first night."

"And what are you going to do if he does something worse? What, is he just going to pull out every annoying roommate cliché until you lose your mind? To what end?"

"The same reason you punched me in the face year seven."

"To get kicked out? He can just leave."

"He wants a new flatmate. He thinks I can make that happen if I get bothered by him enough."

"But you can't."

"He doesn't know that. I tried to tell him but he doesn't believe me."

"Let me talk to this prick."

"I won't stop you, but I doubt you can help."

"I'm offended by your lack of faith in me."

"It's not that. It's just if he hates me because I'm a Conrad, do you think he would hate you any less because you're a Farrow?"

Jack furrowed his brow as he took out some boxes of American snacks and lined them up on his kitchenette counter. "If anything, he would probably hate me more," Jack guessed.

"My thought too."

"I could punch him." Jack flashed him a toothy grin. "I mean, that did wonders for our relationship."

Alex rolled his eyes. "He seems like the kind who would punch back, so I'm not sure how well that would end for you."

"Hey, if he hits me hard enough, they might expel him. Problem solved then, right?"

"Yeah, I can see the headlines now, him getting kicked out for a fight you started. While you still get to go here. Especially given it won't be your first offense. That'll make this whole situation so much better."

"To be fair, he started it by being a tool."

"That the statement you're going to give to The Sun then?"

"Relax, I'm not going to do it. Not right away, at least."

"I appreciate the sentiment, though, thank you. But if I could handle you and Sean at your worst, I think I can deal with Matthew Montoya."

"I guess we did turn you into a bit of an expert at dealing with douchebags." Jack rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Alex with a slightly sheepish expression. "Sorry."

"Don't be, I've gotten good use out of the experience."

"Just let me know if you ever change your mind about the punch. I can keep it discreet, no need to make it a spectacle."

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you."

All Jack had been interested in when it came to him unpacking was finding a bag of cheese-flavored crisps because once he had them, he zipped his suitcase back up and treated it like a bench seat. Once he was done with them the fact that he hadn't slept in over 24 hours caught up with him, and he curled up like a cat on top of it. Alex rummaged through one of the boxes labeled books that had blankets and bedsheets in it and tossed a fluffy throw over his friend before leaving.

It was nine by then, so he made his way from Jack's flat on the third floor to the dining hall located in the building named after his great-grandmother, Elizabeth Hall. It was the centerpiece of the whole campus. You could see its spires from almost anywhere within the property, except maybe the football pitch and the stables. The quickest way there from the dorms was to go through the quad, a cobblestone diamond lined with trees and flower boxes. When the term started it would be filled with students passing between classes, or just avoiding going to them all together. The planters were usually occupied by snogging couples using them as benches. Year sevens would often be rushing around trying to find their classes, while year elevens and above would be stalling getting to them as much as possible.

Hannah and her friends liked to hang out by the biggest oak tree in the center. There were some in her group that came and went, usually because they were only temporarily dating someone who was a regular. The ones who were always there were two girls named Norah and Kaylee, twins that Alex could never manage to tell apart, and three boys named Isaac, James, and Warren. Isaac and James were pretty loud and obnoxious, the pinnacle of every spoiled prep school kid stereotype, and Norah and Kaylee were a lot like Hannah. Warren was the one who always seemed nice enough to not fit in with the rest of them. But maybe he was just quiet. Alex didn't know him well enough to make that call.

Julia and Laurent had a slightly smaller insular group. Just Julia's boyfriend, a French boy named Michel, and Laurent's friend Ezekiel. Michel was stuck up and Ezekiel could be a little rude at times, but on their own, they weren't too bad. Julia and Laurent always goaded them into messing with whoever they felt the target of the week was. Before Jack was on his side, it was almost always Alex, but they had gotten into the habit of messing mostly with year sevens whose families were low in the ranks. Of course, now the scholarship students were giving them a whole new world of options.

Alex walked through the doors of Elizabeth Hall and down a dimly lit hallway to get to the dining hall. They had replaced the oil lamps with electric ones ages ago, but either they were in desperate need of new bulbs or were kept intentionally dim so they were about as useful as the kerosene ones. It made for an atmospheric walk so long as you managed not to crash into anyone or anything.

The dining hall functioned almost like a restaurant would, with wait staff assigned to every table in charge of taking and bringing orders. The head chef, Jerimiah Lake, could theoretically make anything you could come up with, but he was only willing to cook off the menu if you were in his good graces. Most students knew better than to try if they weren't. A good number of students didn't even eat the food he made, though. They had personal chefs brought in and housed in the staff housing building, that would work in the kitchen making food for only the families they were employed by. It was a bit of a chaotic system that only worked because the kitchen was so large.

Alex could tell the dining hall was relatively empty before he even walked in. Usually, the sound perforated through the door and hit you like a wall as you walked in. Today there was no noise audible from the outside, and when he opened the doors there was only a sprinkling of light chatter. Most of the students inside were seated alone at one of the oversized oak tables, sipping coffee and tea while they read books or writing in journals.

One table was full. The one closest to the kitchen entrance, the one that was usually empty even when the hall was crowded. A bunch of students were there, looking like they spanned ages across every year. Most of the chatter was coming from them, about twelve together, holding conversations in pairs or trios. None of them looked familiar to Alex at all. At least, none of them until he spotted the one that did. Matthew Montoya was at the end of the table, grinning as he listened to a girl sitting across from him. Alex couldn't see her face from where he stood, but she had long dark hair and was gesturing a lot with her hands as she spoke.

Alex knew he was staring too long and too obviously, but he couldn't help it. Matthew Montoya looked so different than he had the past two days. It was amazing how much influence one's disposition had on their physical appearance. Before he could think to look away or get out of his flatmate's eyeliner, Matthew spotted him. His grin went away and his eyebrows scrunched into a look Alex would describe as annoyed confusion. Alex just stood there staring back at him like an animal primed to be hit by a truck.

The girl Matthew had been speaking with noticed his change and turned to see what he was staring at. She was a pretty Indian girl, one Alex was sure had never been at the school before. She said something else, maybe a question, and Matthew responded by saying something that made her eyes widen, and turn her head back quickly to look at Matthew. Alex decided to make his getaway when both of their gazes were off him. He walked over to an empty table and took a seat, deliberately picking one that would have his back to Matthew's table. He couldn't help but feel like he was being stared at. He tried his best to convince himself it was just his paranoia, and nearly caught fire when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He didn't, but he did jump enough to almost fall out of his seat. The only reason he didn't was because the same person who had tapped his shoulder caught his chair for him.

"Sorry, sorry," the person said in a panicked voice. They sounded like a girl with a Geordie accent. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have just poked you like that."

"It's fine," Alex said, probably sounding even more panicked. He steadied himself before looking up to see the same girl Matthew had been speaking with. His voice caught in his throat, and he tried his best not to make a choking sound. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm Eloise." She held a hand out. Alex could feel callouses on her hands when he shook them and noticed she had chipped black nail polish on her fingers. "It's my first year here. I'm a year eleven. You are too, right?"

"Yes." Eloise blinked at him for a couple of seconds, until Alex realized what she was waiting for. "Oh! My name is Alexander."

Eloise smiled and tilted her head. "Alexander Conrad, right?"

"Yes."

Eloise's smile got even bigger and she tilted her whole body along with her head. Alex tried not to let his face show how uncomfortable he felt under her gaze. "You look. . . different than I was expecting," Eloise said after she straightened her posture. "I mean, I knew your dad was a Joshi, but still. You don't look like a Conrad at all."

Alex felt his discomfort start to morph into annoyance. Not that he wanted to be so easily lumped in with his mother's family, but he always knew the fact that he looked more like his father was a reason a lot of them didn't much care for him from the start. It was something everyone noticed, but no one had ever really been bold enough to mention it to his face. It would have been refreshing if it wasn't still a sore spot for him.

"Can I ask," Alex decided to say, when it was clear Eloise wasn't going to leave or change the subject on her own, "why you're here so early? You're from Newcastle, right?"

"Good ear."

"Usually only international students get here before the Saturday before classes start."

"You're here," Eloise pointed out.

"Fair point."

Eloise pointed back at the table to Matthew Montoya, who was watching the both of them with a slightly amused smile. He waved when he noticed he was being watched. "I wrote to Matt over the summer, when I was getting close to bottling out of coming here. Thought I might be braver if I knew someone by the time I got here, and he was famous enough for it to not be too hard to find the address to send a letter. I was surprised when he wrote back, though. I had a feeling he would think I was mad, writing to a stranger like that. We went back and forth until he mentioned when he was getting in, so I offered to have me and my dad pick him up from the airport. Since he would be flying in on his own. Plus getting in early seemed nice. Some time to enjoy the place before we all get too terribly outnumbered."

"You're one of the scholarship students," Alex guessed.

"You know many old families that set up camp in Newcastle?"

"I guess not."

"Most of us are put up in McAvoy Hall," Eloise continued, gesturing back at the table. Alex had a feeling those were all scholarship students sitting there as well. Matthew had stopped watching them and instead was talking to a fair-skinned blonde boy next to him. "I think Matt's the only one who got assigned to Pearson." Eloise sighed theatrically. "Rotten luck, we had been talking about putting in a flatmate request when we found out about the lax rules for co-ed flatmates. But we got our assignments too quickly."

"They usually only make that exception for family members," Alex said. "Or special circumstances."

"I see. I'm sure that's the only obstacle that was in our way. What a coincidence, him getting paired up with you, huh?"

"It wasn't a coincidence," Alex said. He noticed Eloise's eyebrows lift slightly in surprise. "My family paired us up on purpose. I'm sorry if he's feeling alienated from his friends because of it."

Eloise tilted her head again, but the way she was examining him now felt different than before. Before she could say anything else, Alex noticed someone else approaching from his right out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see Jerimiah, his chef's coat buttoned up unevenly and his long grey hair gathered at the nape of his neck into a braid.

"Morning, Alexander," he said. "I didn't see you in at dinner last night. I know my shepherd's pie isn't your favorite, but I could have whipped something else up for you."

"Your food is always delicious, chef," Alex said, noticing how his chest puffed up when he heard that. One of the keys to getting on Jerimiah's good side was to always call him that, something most students never bothered to learn. "I just wasn't hungry last night."

"What are you having this morning then? You've got to be hungry by now."

"I was hoping to just make some tea if it's not too busy in there right now."

Jerimiah frowned. Alex had a feeling he would press the food issue if he wasn't too worried about overstepping. "It's pretty calm right now. You can come on back if you're sure that's all you want."

"It is, thank you."

"I'll clear a space for you."

"You make your tea?" Eloise asked as Jerimiah walked off towards the kitchen door. "How blue-collar of you." Alex felt himself heat up at her sarcastic tone. Eloise felt it too, because she stepped back and fanned herself. "Blinking hell, they don't joke about you fire wyverns. You could heat London through the winter just by standing in the center of it."

"Sorry," Alex said, standing up.

"Don't be. I'll come to yours if my space heater ever goes bust."

"Okay."

Eloise grinned, though it felt different than the way she had smiled before. "What kind of tea are you going to make?"

"Masala chai, actually."

"Ah, so that's why you need to make it yourself. The fancy French chefs they fly in don't know how to do it right, do they?"

"I'm just picky."

"If I see curry on the menu, should I order it?"

Alex hesitated for a second before shaking his head. "Probably not," he admitted. "You'd be better off going into Brighton."

"I'll remember that."

"Do you... want a cup?"

Eloise tilted her head. "Hmm," she hummed, tapping her chin. "I don't know. I'm pretty picky too. It probably won't be as good as my nani's."

"Probably."

Eloise's grin widened. "For admitting that, I'll give you the honor of serving me some, Mr. Conrad."

"Alex. Please."

Eloise looked him up and down one last time before nodding. "Ellie, then," she said, pointing to herself. "I'll be back with the others, and I promise I'll not say anything about it that will make you look too bad in front of them."

"Thank you."

Ellie spun on her heel and went back to the table. Alex felt several of her friends there watching him as he walked past to get to the kitchen. Noticeably, Matthew Montoya was not one of them. He was smirking at Eloise as she sat down. Alex couldn't help but hear a bit of their conversation though.

"He still handsome after opening his mouth, Ellie?" Matthew asked.

"Don't be a dick, Matt," Eloise said, and the pained sound Matthew made must have been from her hitting him.

Alex hurried into the kitchen, trying not to let Matthew Montoya's comment bother him. Jerimiah had cleared a space for him by the entrance, removed from the few cooks in there that were finishing up meals for everyone that had an appetite that morning. Alex worked faster than he usually did, partly to get out of their way, but also because he didn't want to keep Ellie waiting. When he finished and went back into the dining hall with the glasses, Matthew Montoya and the blonde that had been next to him were gone.

"Matt and Baptiste went to the library," Ellie said when she saw Alex looking at the empty seats. "I told Matt he needed to learn how to play nice by the time you got back and he just hoofed it out of here. Baptiste went after him to make sure he didn't offend anyone else on his way."

"Thank you for trying," Alex said, placing the glass in front of her. He tried not to look too invested when she took a sip. After her first, she looked off into the distance before taking a second, more contemplative one.

"My nani's is better," she finally said. "But only just. Not bad, Alex."

"Thank you. My dad learned this recipe from his old housekeeper."

"Want to sit? You could give us insights on all the professors here. Let us know what we're in for next week."

Alex glanced at the other students at the table. The only two emotions he could read on any of their faces were fear and anger. "I can't stay, sorry," he lied. Well, about the not being able to stay part. He was sorry. But wasn't he always? "I have some things I need to get done before classes start. I'm sorry."

"Right," Eloise said in a way that made it clear she knew he was bluffing. "I know this probably doesn't mean much given how much of a part it seems like he's been to you so far, but Matt is a good guy. He's just got a lot of... Well, he's pretty stressed about everything that's been going on since all this started. Almost half a year as every old family's favorite dartboard is starting to wear him pretty thin."

"I understand. I'm not upset."

Eloise scrunched her eyebrows. "You know you're allowed to be, right?"

"Sorry?"

"You're allowed to be upset with Matthew. His circumstances are not an excuse. I just wanted to let you know there's a good guy side to him, so you don't think we're all daft for liking him."

"I do not care what he thinks of me," the boy next to Eloise muttered in Spanish. Alex tried not to betray that he had understood that.

"I can tell by your tone that was insulting, so piss off, Emilio," Ellie said, smacking his shoulder.

"I should go," Alex said. Yeah, I appreciate the effort, Eloise, his inner voice added, but sticking around somewhere you're not wanted isn't exactly pleasant. Trust me, I've had years' of experience. "It was nice meeting you."

"Yeah, you too, Alex," Ellie said. "Thanks for the tea."

Alex nodded before heading back to the table he had been sitting at before. He drank his tea more quickly than he should have so he could look to be in a hurry that he wasn't. The glass was still warm by the time it was empty and Alex was heading for the door.