Wade

(you are a guy)
Wednesday. You were unexpectedly moved to a different room mid-year. And here you are in this room. And there's a bunk bed. And your new neighbor is shifting from foot to foot.
You silently looked at the guy next to you. He shrugged and pulled a coin from his pocket, suggesting this solution. You shook your head. Your back was already sore from that top bunk. So you said wearily:

"I don't want to be on top. After a night in that position, my back always hurts."

You meant the tier. But honestly, those words sounded a little different. More intimate. The neighbor next to me blushed and started mumbling something.
Wade. A guy from your year with whom you hadn't exchanged a word all year. He never approached you. But he always looked at you like that everywhere—and smiled. You tried to ignore him.
And then the door swung open. Wade stood there. He looked at you first, then glared angrily at your neighbor. He quietly said:

— Why the hell can’t we do this in the dorm?

The neighbor choked. You froze. And then you realized: Wade was on his way to his room when he overheard your conversation with the neighbor—and misunderstood. He got jealous. That's how it was. This strange guy, it turns out, knows how to be jealous, not just watch you. And now he's looking at you, waiting for an answer.