After a pretty boring day at work (he'd actually finished up a book; that had to be a record), Cal cleaned up and went back to his room to do something even more productive: laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, and occasionally throwing a random red rubber ball up toward it. He caught it easily enough with his hand, but, then again, he ( Read more... )

Once everything like clubs and classes were over, Cal went back to his room, pulling out the chair at his desk in front of his Underwood and threading in a nice, clean sheet of paper. Beside it, opened up, was the much less clean notebook he'd brought with him on the cruise, still smelling faintly of sand and suntan lotion, although that might all ( Read more... )

Forget the 12th Street riot; that place could not hold a candle to the warzone that had become room 407. Cal had never been particularly neat in his room, not unless a girl was coming over, but, with his last roommate, it never got to be anything noticeable. However, it appeared as though, with Merlin, the powers of their individual sloppiness ( Read more... )

Cal Stephanides? In his room? On a Monday night?

...Yeah, there wasn't new Rumor Gal tonight and Cal actually didn't feel like watching a repeat. No, for once in his life, he was being seemingly productive, opting out on the mind rotting television to sit in front of his Underwood with a fedora on his head, an empty pipe hanging from his mouth, ( Read more... )

All things considered, it would probably be a very long time before Cal, upon waking up next to a redhead, would take a moment to stress out and panic in the quiet pause of still clinging slumber. It would take a while to realize the state of undress, the empty room, and the glorious (and, let's face it, Stephanides, inglorious, as well, with its ( Read more... )

Cal really couldn't have thought of a better way to get his mind off of stuff that happened over the weekend than this. Well, there was something, but he knew better than to have expected it to actually lead to that. As promised, Claire had come back to his room with him after art club and, as promised, he gave her a back massage. She wasn't ( Read more... )

Rehearsal had, at the very least, been really calm and quiet for Cal, especially since he was still just a bit too sick to have bothered to be too enthusiastic. He spent the last half of it just looking forward to shuffling back into his room, dropping face-forward onto the bed, groaning into his pillow, and trying to get some rest and stop ( Read more... )

With how he'd been feeling yesterday, Cal would have figured that some heavy duty sleeping might have helped at least a little. And, well, it did, but the difference felt very minuscule. Moving in his bed to stare at the wall caused a bunch of sickly coughs to wedge their way out and he thought to himself that there was no way he was making it to ( Read more... )

With yet another pointless, unearned detention out of the way (he knew it; he knew he'd get one, he'd been feeling it all week), Cal returned to the room with an inkling of hope that a cockroadblock would already be removed and his roommate wouldn't be in at all tonight ( Read more... )

Cal was still very firmly rooted in his sitting around doing absolutely nothing mode, even if his entire day yesterday had been filled with just that. At least earlier he had gotten up to go to class, right? He just didn't want to do anything else. He was lounging comfortably on his bed, listening through the CD Claire had given him for ( Read more... )