"Would you like something to drink?" Inside his dorm room, Ben made Olivia the offer as she scanned around his living space, scrutinizing everything.
"No, I'm fine, thank you." She approached his desk, placed her bag down on it, and picked up the colorful propeller hat from the top shelf, bringing it to her face.
*Sniff* *Sniff*
Ben blinked. 'Did she just smell it?'
As if not discovering anything interesting, she returned it to its prior spot and continued her observations...
Watching her snoop around like a crime scene detective, Ben decided to ask her what he'd been wondering this whole time. "Why'd you want to come here?"
She wiped her finger along the top of his computer monitor, glancing at it to observe the level of dust. "I required an answer…"
"An answer to what?"
She swiveled around and looked into his eyes. "Who are you who is so wise in the ways of marketing?"
…
She spun back around and continued examining his room. "You intrigued me… My defeat in the media competition was my first blemish this year... So, I wanted to have a look around your living quarters, to understand you…"
Ben raised an eyebrow. "And…have you succeeded?"
After picking up his headset and taking a cursory glance at it, Olivia put it back down, and released a deep exhale. Her expression changed; it became more aloof, as if he and this room now bored her, since she'd already found everything she needed. "Obviously…"
She turned back around to face him, placing her hands behind her back, as one side of her mouth showed the tiniest upward curve. "It must have surprised your family when you decided to live here instead of staying with your uncle, but I suppose you would have had to first forgive him for being a raging alcoholic..."
Ben narrowed his eyes. "We've barely spoken to each other and you just entered here. How could you know all that?"
She started speaking at a faster pace. "Your headset, the initials engraved on it indicate it first belonged to someone else; a gift, but not from your parents or a school friend, the model is much too old. It would've come from someone significantly older, yet someone close enough to give you such an expensive item. Since you mentioned having a cousin nearby, thus a high chance of other relatives, the most likely suspect...is your uncle."
"But...how could you tell he's an alcoholic?"
"A conjecture, a sound one though… It was evident by the dings and nicks all over the headset, clearly from someone dropping it on innumerable occasions. To treat such a pricey electronic item this way though, well, that would only be a habit of chronic drunks..."
Ben was wide-eyed. "My God, that's incredible…"
Olivia's proud smirk grew a bit wider.
Ben cringed. "And totally wrong…"
…
"What?" She blinked.
"Every single word you spoke…was wrong."
…
"…You're saying I…was...slightly off?" Her eyebrows elevated.
"Not a thing you said was accurate…"
She swallowed. "Define...accurate…"
"The headset's always been mine..."
Olivia squinted. "The age and the scratches..."
"It's old because I bought it used a long time ago, and the wear and tear is also mine--it's from rage-quitting."
...
She pointed at the headset. "T-the engraving..."
"The engraving is JVC...it's...the name of the brand..."
…
Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Interesting…" She paused for a moment, then her speaking pace accelerated once again. "That stain on your shirt cuff. It's dressing, from your breakfast, indicating you were in a rush due to the midterm."
Ben winced and sighed, but she continued. "Naturally, there was only time to grab something nearby, the closest place being the dining hall downstairs, which is where you ate.
*Sniff* I smell Chicken!
Romaine!
Olive oil!
You ate a caesar salad, yet there's no smell of cheese, but the university cafeterias prepare all their caesar salads with cheese unless specifically asked not to. Hence..." Her eyes widened in dramatic fashion. "You're lactose intolerant!
Ben gasped as he took a deeper look at Olivia... "Nah."
…
Her eye twitched. "Excuse me?"
"Nope. I haven't even eaten breakfast today. This is from the classroom earlier, and you were there when I got the stain. It's from my cum."
...
Olivia's brows bunched. "But I cleaned all of it…"
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He sighed. "No one's perfect…"
She gritted her teeth and muttered, "Could still be considered milk-related..." Then, she narrowed her eyes. "All right, I think I'd like that drink after all…"
As Ben took a step towards his mini-fridge, she interrupted him. "Aha! The hesitation in your step gave you away! You have a limp from a rodeo injury!"
He shook his head...
"Recovering heroin addict!"
"I've never done drugs…"
"Semi-professional tap dancer!"
"Never even tried it…"
"Retired Russian spy!"
"Born and raised in the U.S…"
"Two dicks!"
…
Ben grimaced. "What? No! You literally just saw my dick!"
"You could've been tucking one back!"
"I'm mono-d*cked!"
"Then how do you explain the gait of your step?"
"My leg fell asleep..."
…
"I see…" Olivia's eyes became downcast.
Ben sighed. "Look…they were good guesses…"
At this compliment, she stared into Ben's eyes while biting her lower lip, harder and harder. Her jaw quivered as if trying to restrain herself…
He shook his head. "Please no…"
She couldn't hold back! "Your breathing rate at rest is about 17% slower than the national average. This indicates a slower pulse, suggesting a constant state of relaxation due to having been raised in an environment with many distractions that primed your body to not react to sudden stimuli. Ergo, you grew up on a chicken farm!"
Ben's jaw dropped.
"And that's where your troubles began! The constant wake up calls from the roosters infuriated you, making you develop a deep resentment towards them. So you harassed them back, but then you discovered their aggressive nature, and thought of an even better tactic for revenge. That's when you started professional cockfighting!"
...
He stared at her, dumbfounded.
"Those wild battles excited you! Yet, you became tired of losing. So you trained the roosters! You taught them Judo techniques and resilience! One in particular grew powerful! Strong enough that it kept on winning! Yet soon, the local competition could no longer contain you! Your rooster grew too strong! No cock-master would accept a match with it! So what else could you do, you went elsewhere!
Your callused fingers suggest frequent computer use, which means you likely searched the dark web to find the best location, and where would be more suitable than the cockfighting capital of the world...you went to Tijuana!"
Ben stopped breathing...
"From the hitch in your neck, I can see that you flew coach! They served fish and beef, but you asked for the kosher meal because you heard it was of better quality. Though you immediately regretted it, because it was only bread rolls!
For the inflight movie, they showed Crazy Rich Asians, but you instead opted to play digital checkers with an elderly gentleman across the aisle from you! Yet the depressing aura surrounding you indicates you wished you watched the movie! Because you lost! And that loss haunts you! To! This! Day!"
…
Olivia bent down to pick up a white feather that had been lying on Ben's floor...then held it up and gazed into his eyes as she took a deep breath. "Isn't that right, Benjamin, or should I call you--Cockmaster Zero?"
...
"Good lord…" Ben shook his head in disbelief. "Yes!"
…
"Really?" She showed a vulnerable expression.
"That was amazing…" He nodded. 'She's pretty gullible…'
Then, Olivia crossed her arms and glared at him for a long time... "Are you just appeasing me?"
Ben's face scrunched up…then he shrugged. "Yea. The feather's from my pillow..." He didn't want her to be too disappointed.
Yet, she'd already moved on from that. "Aha! I knew it! I saw through your lie! I read your expression! That's how you do it! That's the power of deduction!"
…
Ben's jaw dropped again. Once more, he saw it—how women always had to be right.
...
At least that was enough to satisfy her though, as Olivia stopped with her inspection and sat on the bed, returning to her usual cold and distant demeanor. Seeing this made Ben sigh in relief though. 'She's out of fuel at last.' From his experiences with women, Ben knew that most people didn't listen as much as they waited for their turn to talk, and in this case, he wasn't any different.
The whole time she was at it, he was waiting to do his own dedicktion... 'How do I sleep with this girl?'
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