various drabbles for Indie

Phyllis held a cardboard box of… whatever, in her aching arms. This was the third one she had to carry, and although it was lighter than the the other two, it hurt more to carry. 

Her brother, Martin, was holding a smaller box labelled ‘Clothing’ under his left arm. He used his right to adjust the striped beanie that clung to his forehead.

“How can you carry these?” she asked, grunting as she set the box down next to the room’s, her room’s, door. A pale yellow sticky note was stuck above the door knob, and she pulled it off and brushed dust off of it.

Residents: Phyllis Smith, it read.

“Who’s the other one?” she asked. Martin peered over her shoulder and shrugged.

“Forgot to write it, maybe.”

She snorted.

“Must be it. Poor guy who can’t find their name on any of these doors.”

She looked down the hall. People, other students, were piling boxes in the hallway and greeting each other for the first time as their parents frantically double checked printed lists.

She was alone, apart from her twin. Their parents were halfway across the country. Beyond that, they didn’t have the money to send all four of them to Florida with their luggage. It had to be just the two of them.

She frowned at him as he used her room key to get into the room. People never knew they were twins. They never even knew that they were related, what with the fact that even their skin was of different colours. She was white, he was black. They were siblings that should’ve appeared in one of those Fun Facts or Weird But True books.

The gentle creak of the door pulled her back from her thoughts. The room was small, fit for only two people. Two beds sat on opposite ends of the room, devoid of pillows or any sort of bedding. A dresser separated them, a small counter sat next to the door, and that was it.

“Too plain”, she said, sneering. He nodded and kicked the box of clothing into the room.

“Careful, that’s my stuff!” He laughed and kicked it again before she slapped the side of his shoulder.

They moved the rest of the boxes into the room before heading outside to collect the ones that belonged to Martin, hauling them up the stairs to the third floor.

“Hey, we’re on the same floor”, she commented, looking down the hall to her room. Hers was right next to the stairs, whereas his was a little bit in.

A few other people walked past them as they chatted, piling the boxes on top of each other from least valuable to most valuable.

Finally, Martin opted to open the door, holding his room key in front of the sensor and waiting for it to flash. As soon as it did, he turned the doorknob and opened the door.

“You’re late.”

A man was laying on the left bed, tossing a football in the air and catching it again. He was wearing glasses and a brown man bun, along with what looked like a blue faux leather jacket.

“Can it, doll”, she sneered, moving a box of bedding into the room and using it as a doorstop. 

He sat up.

“Rude. I hope you’re not my roommate?”

“I’m not. He is.” She jabbed Martin under his rib and chuckled.

“Your boyfriend?”

“My brother.”

“That doesn’t make sense, I… Nevermind. I’m Johann Maas, and this is first and foremost my room, so keep that in mind.” He crossed his arms and adjusted his hair.

“Ugh”, Martin muttered under his breath, picking up a box of clothing and setting it at the foot of the other bed.

“I live here too. You can’t just claim this as your own.”

“You were late.” He raised an eyebrow.

“I was helping my sister”, he protested, raising his arms. “Some of us have actual lives, you know? It’s just an idea.”

“What’s your name again?”

“Martin.”

“Last name, man.”

“Smith. How about you shut up and let me move in?”

“Language”, he laughed, laying back down and tossing the football straight at Martin’s face.

“Ooh, doll, shouldn’t have done that”, Phyllis chuckled, taking a step back as he seethed.

He tore the cap off of a blue pen and scribbled over a small poster on the wall, his fist clenched around the pen.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Johann yelled, coming up behind him and pulling his arm away.

“Every time you touch me, I scribble over your posters”, he told him, narrowing his eyes and putting the cap back on.

“I didn’t touch you, the football did”, he replied, smirking and putting his hands on his hips.

He took the pen cap off again.

“Fine, alright! These posters were expensive…” he mumbled, putting his hands up in an exaggerated display of defeat.

“Ah, yes, the bargain bin is so bad these days”, Phyllis commented, a sarcastic tinge to her voice.

“Watch it, kiddo.”

“I’ll be watching you, doll”, she sneered in return.

“Fine.”

They stared at each other for a few more moments before she leaned over to pick up another box, moving it to the unoccupied bed. She then stepped outside, pulling Martin with her.

“Get a new roommate”, she whispered, shaking her head and crossing her arms.

“I can’t. I should’ve contacted him before to see what he was like, but the cutoff date was months ago”, he whispered back, putting his hands in his pockets and staring at the tops of his shoes.

“Ugh. You really could’ve prevented having to live with someone like… Well, like that, you know”, she whisper yelled to him. She squeezed her arms a bit and tapped her foot on the ground to make her point.

“I know, I know!”