Rebecca

You stalk over to the door quickly, your rage still animating your features, opening it quickly. Rebecca's wearing a thin track suit, over a light blouse. Her running shoes on. There is a slight awkwardness, as you both stand in the doorway, silently. Her with a hesitancy born of fear, you with a sudden deflation of your anger.

"Uh, are you ok?" Rebecca looks at you, clearly worried. She'd heard the sounds of you kicking and punching your bed. It was clear from your reaction that you were angry, and she wanted to make sure you were ok. Like a good friend. Like a best friend.
Think of something quick. "Uh yeah, sorry, I kinda got a little bit frustrated. I just learned that somebody got a promotion that I thought I was going to get. So I punched my bed. And let me tell you, my hand is regretting it." You try to smile, to sell the story, but she just looks at you quizzically.

"Are you sure? It's not about that conversation earlier?" Rebecca looks at you, a hint of sadness in her eyes. The toilet seat conversation. Right, the thing that started all of this. "I talked with Sephora in the living room when I got back from my run and apparently she 'got you pretty good with it'. I'm sorry, but it's just one of those things with living with a bunch of women, keeping the toilet seat down because we don't even think to check. I hope you understand." She genuinely apologizes to you, her face clearly showing regret.

"May I come in?" You can't help but nod, you could never really say no to Rebecca. You move to the side and she walks over to your desk. You go back to your bed, only to see her looking at something. The box of cum candies on your bed, it had spilled out when you punched the bed. Or maybe when you kicked the bed. She looks at them quizzically, "What are those?"

"Oh, uh just some allergy medicine. I've been having some slight scratchy feelings in my throat recently, ragweed, I think." You choose the smallest white lie you could imagine. Candies can be shared. Allergy medicine? Yeah, that tended to be ok to only take yourself. You had also never seen her have allergy problems so it's not like she'd try to take some from you. And so long as you never gave it to Erica or Olivia in Rebecca's presence, the lie could be maintained.

"What's up with the writing then?" She looks at the box, not willing to let it go.
"Oh, uh, my coworker from India told me that this brand is very effective at handling allergies with mild symptoms like mine. He gave me the box and told me he'd send me the link later if I found it worked. It's probably some homeopathic garbage, but I'll see."

"Ok, I guess." She shrugs. "So are you sure it's not something related to the whole toilet seat debacle? I could treat you to some food some time, try to show you that it's not all subtle jabs and whiny backtalk living with us."

Wait. This could be your chance. Wait, in which way? In getting some points from her? In actually moving forward in your life and going to a restaurant with her alone, maybe showing her that you weren't just some pathetic loser, taking back control of your life?