Roommates Read online

  ROOMMATES

  Copyright © 2016 by Ashley Love

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  1

  I wake up, startled, to someone pounding on the door to my tiny dorm room. I roll over, facing the door as the knocking continues, this time louder. I eye the alarm clock on the shared desk between the two beds, and I almost can't believe the luminescent 2:32am, or the fact that someone's actually pounding on my door at this time of night on a Wednesday.

  Only I can believe it, since it's not the first time.

  "Aubrey," someone slurs from the other side of the door. "Aubrey, c'mon, I forgot my key. Let me in. I know you can hear me."

  I can, but I can pretend that I don't. Which is what I attempt to do, rolling back over to face the wall, pulling a pillow over my head. I'm the type of person who can sleep anywhere, at any time, and I'm a deep sleeper. Which comes in handy, really, given the rooming arrangements.

  Honestly, I should have known from that first day. I should have known the moment I'd shouldered into the dorm room with a heavy box slipping from my fingers, only to find that someone had already been inside. Someone who had left their stuff everywhere. There had been boxes in different states of being unpacked littering both sides of the room, not respecting the halfway line at all. There had been clothing partially folded and draped off both beds, the drawers of the dresser at the end of the right bed hanging open.

  Blake Alexander is a fucking asshole.

  Only I hadn't realized it at first, since the boy in question had stumbled into the room with his cheeks flushed and sweat glistening his forehead, and he'd said a seemingly sincere, "Sorry, sorry! I didn't think you'd be here for a while, I thought I'd have time to put my stuff away."

  What I didn't realize, in that moment, was that it was only the beginning.

  Now, I can't get back to sleep. Blake keeps knocking at the door and I keep trying to sleep, but I fucking can't.

  With an annoyed huff, I climb out of bed and unlock the door. Blake stumbles inside, smelling like cheap beer and perfume. In the dull light from the hallway, I can see the red lipstick stain at his neck, and I roll my eyes.

  "If you keep me up any longer," I warn, "I'm punching you in the face."

  The door shuts, plunging the room into darkness. "You don't have the balls," Blake says, unconcerned. "And I'm tired anyway. Going to sleep, don't worry." He yawns and collapses on his bed hard enough that the sound of the bed frame hitting the wall cracks through the room. "Wouldn't want to screw with your precious eight hours."

  I glare in Blake's general direction and climb into my own bed, pulling the pillow immediately over my head because Blake, of course, snores like a fucking lawn mower. He should really get that checked out. It's got to be some kind of condition. Or maybe he does it on purpose because he knows it irritates me.

  I finally do fall back asleep, to the sound of his annoying breathing and with the smell of alcohol hanging heavily in the air.

  2

  "Request a new roommate," Cadence suggests. "It's not that hard. I'm sure you could switch rooms."

  I sigh. I could, sure, but I don't want to. It's like we've started a war, Blake and me. I think it started in the second week, when I was trying to study and he was working out on our floor, and I couldn't help but demand to know if he could do it somewhere else, and he had only smirked at me and turned his music on. It's a war I refuse to lose, and if I give in and request a room change first, I'll be waving a white flag, surrendering. I'm not going to do that.

  "No," I say firmly. "I'll deal with it."

  Emma pulls her legs up onto the couch and tucks her feet under my legs. "Maybe you two could learn to get along," she rationalizes.

  Me and Cadence both snort at her. "They'd kill each other before they got along," Cadence adds, for good measure, and I agree. "Plus, what would we do all day if we didn't have Aubrey bitching about Blake? I live vicariously through her roommate drama. It's entertaining."

  I stick out my tongue and turn the page of my comic, and someone changes the channel of the wall-mounted TV.

  Our common room isn't all that big, just a group of couches, two tables, and a single TV. But most of the people in my dorm are pretty cool, and the room is one of my safe havens. If I'm not in here, I'm either at the library or the campus coffee shop. Anywhere but my room.

  Just as I think this, my safe haven is invaded by the very bane of my existence. (Maybe that's a little dramatic, but that doesn't make it any less true.) My eyes narrow as Blake and one of his friends from the football team fall onto the couch nearest the TV. Somehow they get the remote, and Blake laughs before changing it to sports.

  That's almost the extent of what Blake and his friends do all day, as far as I know. They have practice, they hog the TV to watch sports, and they get belligerently drunk at least three times a week. In fact, I'm like, 90% sure that I've never seen Blake crack a book, and I'm also pretty sure he rarely goes to class. How he even managed to get in here is beyond me, but I think I heard someone mention something about a football scholarship.

  "Some people were watching that!" I call, unable to help myself.

  Cadence 'oohs' as Blake leans over the back of the couch to grin at me. "Were you? Sorry about that." He turns back around and cranks the volume.

  "Fucker," I mutter. I stand up, comic dangling from my fingertips. "I'm going out."

  I don't get an answer. Cadence is too busy tickling Emma's sides, and Emma's squirming and giggling and trying to kick her with her socked feet. They collapse against the couch, Cadence on top, Emma's legs dangling off the armrest, and I roll my eyes. They've been like that since I met them, Cadence and Emma. They come from the same town, grew up together, best friends, and they'd planned to go to school together since they were sixteen. And they actually did it, which is more than most people can say, because usually friends grow up, realize they have different dreams, and go their separate ways. But not Cadence and Emma. They're like conjoined twins. A package deal. There's no separating the two.

  I bend to pick my bag up from the ground and carefully put the comic in it before slinging it over my shoulder and heading for the stairwell. I figure I'll head for the library, do a bit of work on my paper that's due on Monday. Sure, I have a lot of time to work on it, but this way I should be able to get it done by Friday, and I'll have the whole weekend free.

  Someone blocks the door. I groan and roll my eyes, and Blake defiantly crosses his arms over his chest. "Can you move?" I snap.

  "I need you to stay out of the room until ten tonight," he says.

  Now I cross my arms too. "Why the fuck would I do that? I have class at eight tomorrow."

  "I'm bringing someone back to the room," he
explains. "I need you to not be there. Got it?"

  Is he serious? He looks serious, but he's fucking deluded if he thinks he can keep me up until past ten just because he wants to get laid. But I'm still pissed (and exhausted) from being woken up early this morning, so I plaster my sweetest, most genuine smile on my face.

  "Sure thing. I'll be in the library until then anyway."

  Blake looks a little thrown by that, but he grins back at me and says a cheerful, "Brilliant. Thanks," confirming my suspicions that he's never been in the library. The library closes at nine. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't stay there until ten.

  When he's no longer blocking the exit, I push through the door and head down the stairs. I light up a cigarette as I walk, a smirk playing on my lips.

  The library is mostly deserted when I get there, which is my favorite part about the library on Wednesdays. Usually the only days it's really packed are Mondays, Tuesdays and Sundays. Other than that, it's only the stragglers, the kids who are really focused on getting good grades, and the occasional student passed out at a table, probably because it's quieter in here than it would be in their dorm.

  "Afternoon, Aubrey," the librarian greets when I walk in.

  I smile at her. "Nancy." I swipe a sucker from the bowl on her desk. There's no food allowed in the library, not even coffee (which sucks, but I see the reasoning behind it), but candy is the one exception. Nancy's always got candy on her desk, and she allows certain students to take them. I'm one of the lucky few.

  I spend the next three hours in the back of the library, working on my paper. The few students around me seem exhausted and stressed, but I'm not one of them. I maybe, secretly sort of like the hard work. Like being challenged. Like the research and working my brain and putting effort into doing well. Like the accomplished feeling when I know I've put my heart into something and I do a good job of it.

  It's about eight when I pile up my stuff and head back to my room, paper nearly done. I just have to finish another two hundred words, type it out on my laptop and it's finished.

  I toss my bag on top of my dresser and turn on the small radio on the shelf above my bed before settling in.

  At around nine the doorknob jiggles, and I hear a girl laughing, bright and feminine, before Blake says, "I can't wait to get you naked." I roll my eyes and adjust my glasses on my face while pretending to read my comic.

  The door opens, the two of them stumbling in, wrapped up in each other, and then they stop dead. The girl's eyes widen, and she looks uncomfortable. Blake, on the other hand, looks livid.

  "What are you doing here?" he demands.

  I shrug a shoulder. "What's it look like?" I ask. "I'm reading, obviously. I know that's a foreign concept to you, but it's really not that hard to understand."

  "Is she going to stay?" the girl whispers, as if the room isn't the size of a shoebox, impossible to not be heard in it, no matter how you try. "I'm really not into exhibitionism."

  "I'll deal with this," Blake tells her. He crosses the room and pulls the comic from my grip. "Get out."

  "Don't touch my shit," I counter, reaching for the comic. Blake holds it high over my head. "Or do, and I'll let out RA know that you're defacing my property and get a new roommate."

  Blake growls in frustration. "You said you'd be gone!"

  "You woke me up at three in the morning off your ass because you didn't have your fucking key!" I say right back, standing up. "And it's my room too, you can't just kick me out of it."

  Blake throws the comic at me. It doesn't hurt, obviously, but it pisses me off. "Maybe if you got a life," he hisses, "outside of the library and your homework, you wouldn't be such an uptight bitch about everything!"

  "Oh, wow," I mock, feigning shock. "You actually know what the library is? I never would have guessed."

  Blake grits his teeth, jaw clenched. I grin at him, only because I know that pisses him off even more. Really, I'm just as pissed, vibrating with anger, but I don't want Blake to know that he gets to me as much as he does.

  "I'm just gonna go," the girl says quietly. "You two keep, uh, doing whatever this is."

  Blake glares at me for a beat longer before jogging after her. Our door slams behind him, and I let out a shaky breath. Maybe Cadence is right. Maybe I should request a new roommate before me and Blake really do end up murdering each other in the middle of the night.

  3

  "Do you have to do that right now?"

  Blake smirks from his spot on the floor. He leans back until his back is nearly hitting the floor, and then he pulls himself up to his legs, bent at the knees, keeping his feet planted firmly on the ground. He doesn't have to, since all of the school's athletes have access to the gym 24/7. He just likes to fuck with me.

  At least, I'm pretty sure that's why Blake does it. Maybe every little thing he does isn't actually intended to make my blood boil, but it does. And he's distracting. I'm trying to type out my essay so I can spend the rest of the night watching Netflix on my laptop. But Blake's grunting and sweating and breathing heavy, and I can't focus on copying the words from page to laptop with him doing that shit.

  I'm just about to give up when someone knocks at the door. I turn, fingers hovering over the keys, and Blake calls out, "Come in!" while continuing with his sit-ups, which is admittedly a little impressive, since I figure I would be too busy wheezing to talk if I were in his position. Then again, Blake's extremely in shape, which is probably a good thing because, really, he doesn't have much else going for him but his body.

  The door opens, and Cadence comes into the room, dressed differently than I've seen her all week. That's just what Cadence does. Between Monday and Friday, she refuses to shave, barely showers, and walks around in the same sweatpants days in a row with messy hair tucked under a beanie. But then, Friday night, she shaves and styles her hair and changes the worn clothes for perfectly pressed shirts and tight jeans, going from homeless to girl-next-door in a matter of hours.

  "Hey," I say. "What's up?"

  Cadence shuts the door behind her and sidesteps Blake on her way to my bed. "I've come to rescue you from the world of academics. Figured you could use a break, and I know you won't take one on your own, so hurry up. Finish whatever you're doing, and then get dressed. We're going out."

  Blake snorts from the floor; I ignore him. "Going out where?" I ask.

  "A party," Cadence admits.

  "I don't go to parties," I point out. I don't see the appeal. Last time I had, I lost Cadence and Emma in the crowd, someone spilt beer on me, and I'd spent the whole night in the corner, praying one of my friends would come rescue me. Or maybe hoping someone would try to talk to me, but everyone had ignored me, as they always do.

  "Because you're never invited," Blake snickers. He's moved on to doing push-ups now—one handed push-ups. Show off.

  "Well she was invited tonight," Cadence hisses at him. She turns to me. "Ignore the side effects of steroids on your floor. Come out with us. Emma wants you to come, and no one can say no to Emma."

  I roll my eyes. I don't want to be the only one not going, though. I don't want to spend tomorrow in the common room, listening to Cadence moan about a hangover and Emma recount their hilarious, drunken adventures. "Home by one at the latest?" I bargain.

  "Promise," Cadence says, hand over her heart. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

  I save my paper on the computer and shut my laptop. Blake's foot juts out in front of me when I head to the dresser, but I see it before I can trip, so I kick him hard in the shin and say, "Oh, sorry, didn't mean to."

  He glares at me and gets up. "Whatever. I'm coming with you guys."

  I put my glasses on top of the dresser while I change into a clean t-shirt. I put the glasses back on, pull on a hat, and that's about all I'm going to do to get ready.

  "You're not invited," Cadence is saying to Blake when I'm done.

  Blake scoffs. "Whose party is it?"

  "Jordon from my c
ivics class," Cadence answers instantly.

  "Jordan Walsh? The one with the red hair?" he asks. When Cadence nods, he laughs and says, "Then I'm a lot more invited than either of you." He tugs on a hoodie, even though he's still disgustingly sweaty. "I'm coming."

  I give Cadence a look, hoping she flips out like that time she'd didn't get enough sleep, had a big test coming up, and the barista at the coffee shop had given her a hard time. Cadence is terrifying when she wants to be, and I would love to see her rip Blake a new one. Instead, all she does is bite her lip for a long moment before shrugging. "Not like we can stop him," she says, regretful. "Let's just go."

  I decide to ignore Blake for the rest of the night, which seems to be fairly easy. We meet up with Emma in the common room, and Blake spends the walk with his phone in hand, texting someone. And since Cadence is my best friend, she treats Blake the same way. Only Emma acknowledges him, but that's because Emma's too polite for her own good.

  The party is only a few streets off campus. It's not a very long walk, but I wish it had been. It's only ten, which means I'm in for a long night. The house it's held at isn't very big either, which means we'll all be packed in, right on top of each other. This suspicion is only confirmed when Cadence pushes open the door, music pouring out onto the streets.

  The front hallway is crowded, and we have to squeeze single file to get through. Blake is pressed up against my back, and I would elbow him in the ribs if I had enough room to do so. But I don't, and I nearly knock someone's drink out of their hand when I try.

  The crowd thins a bit in the living room, but the music is so loud it hurts. I make a face and fist a hand in the back of Emma's shirt so we don't get separated. No way am I letting them leave me alone this time. Not here. Not when I don't recognize a single person from my classes, and I can already feel a weight settling on my chest, making it harder to breathe.

  Emma guides me to the kitchen while pulling a bottle of vodka from her purse. "Best to bring your own!" she shouts over the music. "Never trust shit you drink at a party!"