chapter 3 moving in

The next day, there was a knock on the door. Cole opened it, his jaw tightening as he saw Jake standing there with his boxes.

"You're late," he said tersely, stepping aside to let Jake in.

Jake rolled his eyes. "Traffic was a nightmare," he retorted, dragging his boxes into the apartment.

They moved in silence, the air thick with tension. Jake's phone began to ring; he picked it up and walked outside. Cole busied himself in the kitchen, aggressively chopping vegetables for dinner. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board was the only noise.

"What's cooking, good looking?" Zack joked as he let himself in. "I really need to get a girlfriend, Cole."

Cole frowned. "What are you doing here, Zack?"

"Saving you from doing something you'll regret. I can't lose my BFF. I would die," Zack said dramatically. Just then, Jake walked in. "Hey, Jake, how are you doing?" Zack asked.

Jake ignored the question. "What's for dinner?"

Noodles. If you don't like it, you're welcome to make your own food," Cole snapped.

Jake scoffed. "Whatever. I'll take some." Then he added with a smirk, "But I just ordered a hot, yummy pizza."

Zack tried to crack another joke, but Cole shot him a look to keep quiet. The first few days were tense. They avoided each other as much as possible, communication limited to curt nods and monosyllabic exchanges.

It wasn't until the third night, when the weather took a turn for the worse, that things began to change. A sudden thunderstorm knocked out the power, plunging the apartment into darkness. Jake groaned, fumbling for his phone to use as a flashlight. He made his way to the living room, where he found Cole lighting candles.

"Great," Jake muttered. "No power."

Cole glanced at him, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Looks like we're stuck with each other for the evening."

"Can this evening get any worse?" Jake looked up and said, "God, you like testing me!" He cried out.

Jake sighed and sat down on the couch, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the walls. Cole joined him, the storm raging outside creating an oddly intimate atmosphere.

After a few minutes of silence, Cole spoke up. "Why do you think we hate each other so much?"

Jake was caught off guard by the question. "I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe because we're always competing. It became a habit."

Cole nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe. But we're stuck together now. We should try to make it work."

Jake shrugged. "I guess."

Can we try to be friends?" Cole said, swallowing his pride."We can try," Jake replied. "You see, now that's a start."

The next morning, Jake woke up early and decided to make breakfast as a peace offering. He wasn't much of a cook, but he managed to scramble some eggs and toast some bread.

Cole walked into the kitchen, surprised to see Jake cooking."Morning," Jake said awkwardly. "Figured I'd make breakfast."

"You can cook?" Cole said, taking the plate.

"Why, is that hard to believe?"

Jake replied with a smirk.

"Well, you're a rich boy, and you get things handed to you," Cole said, shaking his head.

They ate in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. For the first time, there was a sense of tentative truce between them.

As the days passed, they started talking more—little conversations about their interests, their routines, and their plans. One afternoon, Jake was stuck doing some work, and Cole noticed his frustration.

"Need a hand?" Cole offered.Jake hesitated. "I don't know... I guess."

"Let's see what you've got," Cole said, pulling up a chair. They worked together, exchanging ideas and solving problems efficiently.

By the time they finished, Jake looked at Cole and smiled. "You know, we make a pretty good team."Cole grinned back. "Yeah, we do. Maybe this won't be so bad after all."