Beverly woke up the next morning to the sound of her phone buzzing. Reaching for it blearily, she slipped it off the bedside table and slapped it to her ear with a muttered, "'lo?"

"Beverly!"

Sitting up straight in the large king bed that sat in the middle of one of Francis's many guest bedrooms, she whipped the phone down and eyed it strangely. She was sure she hadn't eaten anything strange the night before, but—if she wasn't hallucinating—that would mean that Deb had called her at nine in the morning the day after Christmas.

Beverly was instantly on edge; Deb never called her. Deb hardly ever communicated with her at all, and, when she did, it was strictly over text.

So why on earth was Beverly's snotty roommate calling her?

Almost scared to find out, Beverly pressed the phone back to her ear. "Deb? What is it?"

"Shut up and listen for a second!" Ah, that sounds more like Deb. "Did you take my duffel bag? The grey one with all the pockets?"

Beverly's brows furrowed, and she clambered out of the bed, stumbling to where her duffel bag was thrust into the corner near the bathroom. She could've sworn she'd grabbed her own duffel, since the bag had been in her closet, but Deb was notorious for throwing things around.

Yanking the bag up, Beverly searched for where she'd printed her name under one of the handles. She couldn't find it.

"Crap," she murmured, before shifting the phone and telling Deb, "Yeah, I have it; it must've somehow gotten into my closet, and I grabbed it by—"

"I don't care," Deb snapped, sounding more panicked by the minute. "I need that bag. When will you be back?"

"Probably around one."

Deb drew in a long, heavy breath of air, as though she was fighting for patience. "I need it ASAP, Beverly."

Feeling her own patience snap, Beverly retorted, "And I need a roommate who doesn't throw her stuff in my closet. Look, I will be back around one, alright? I'm sorry I accidentally took your duffel, but I am not coming back sooner. In the future, please don't leave your things on my side of the room."

"Beverly, now is not the time to be a bi—"

Beverly pressed the End Call button, throwing the phone onto the bed with a look of disgust. Honestly, this whole thing with Deb was bad enough without said girl throwing a fit every minute.

It was the day after Christmas, and Beverly fully intended to spend what time she could with Francis; Deb could wait.

***

Marching across the campus towards her dorm in an irritated tizzy, Beverly was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't see the man walking towards her until they collided.

"Sorry," she muttered, her usual cheeriness forgotten. The man she'd run into looked to be several years older than her, with cropped blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. His face would've been attractive, if not for his scowl, which clearly screamed Unfriendly! Shouldering Deb's precious duffel, she nodded to the guy and went to step around him, only to be stopped by his hand on her arm.

Whirling to face him, Beverly took a step back to make his hand drop. "It's okay," he said, his frown replaced with a plastic smile, "it was my fault. Nice bag." He dipped his head, his eyes dragging over her face and the duffel one more time before he spun around and walked away.

Beverly's grip tightened on the duffel's straps, and she watched the man walk away warily. Once he'd disappeared around the corner, she hurried off to her dorm.

No sooner had she wrestled open the squeaky door was Deb upon her, practically clawing the duffel off her shoulders. Beverly squealed and almost fell over in her attempt to get away from Deb's prying fingers. "Geez, Deb!" she cried, pulling back and shooting her roommate a warning glare before peeling the duffel off her shoulder slowly. She set it on her bed, trying to ignore Deb's presence over her shoulder as she pulled her clothes and toiletries out.

Once she was done, Beverly handed the bag to Deb, who snatched it up like a greedy troll faced with treasure. Beverly crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at Deb. "Can I ask why a duffel is so important? It's not like you don't have others."

Deb huffed. "It's not really any of your business, Beverly."

"It is my business when some weird guy told me it was a nice bag in a way that clearly conveyed more meaning."

Her roommate's entire face paled. "What? Who? What guy?!"

Beverly shrugged, tossing her dirty clothes into her laundry bag and setting her toiletries on her desk. "Dunno. Whoever he was, I'm pretty sure he ran into me on purpose. Will you tell me now?"

Faltering for a second, Deb seemed to consider it. Then she shook her head fervently, as though it was the stupidest idea she'd ever heard. "Of course not! Look, just stop asking, and don't take anything else that belongs to me."

Discouraged at the continuous non-answers she was receiving, Beverly threw her hands up in exasperation. "Fine! But quit leaving things on my side of the dorm if you don't want me to take them—if it's on my side, then I'm going to assume it belongs to me."

Deb clutched the empty duffel tightly to her chest with one hand, and used the other to flip Beverly off before swiveling around and storming out of the dorm.

Beverly sighed and leaned back against the wall, her nerves frazzled. Whatever was going on with Deb seemed to be leading to a climax, and Beverly's gut told her the event was going to be anything but silent.