Page 9 of Something Forever

“Well… my roommate was less than enthused when I told her I was moving out and a guy was taking my place.”

“Didn’t you ask her about me before?”

“Not really. I had no time! Anyway, she’ll deal with it.”

I roll my eyes and bite my tongue, not wanting to stir anything up. “Great. Love moving into a place where I’m not at all wanted. Thanks so much,” I say sarcastically.

“You’re welcome,” she says brightly.

I hang up the phone as I pull up to the apartment, my irritation growing. It’s hot as hell, the August humidity sticking to my skin. After finding the key and letting myself into the apartment, I glance around, feeling like an intruder.

“Hello?” I call out, wondering if my new roommate is here, but there’s no response.

I glance around, taking in the apartment. It’s nice. There’s a unique style to the decor, somewhere between modern and maximalist. I usually prefer a simpler look, mainly because I can’t be arsed with decorating, but something about the splashes of color and how alive the place feels — plants everywhere, artwork on the walls — makes the place feel homey.

It takes the movers almost two hours to get all my shit inside, and I spend the rest of the day unpacking. It’s late when I find a box of bits that I’ve been ignoring. I already know what I’m going to find there. With a sigh, I pick up the box and lift the top to see its contents. The first thing I find is a photo of me and Luke in our freshman dorm.

We look so young. Happy.

Naive.

“Can you hand me the microscope?” Luke asks from beside me, his head bent over his desk while I look at our latest results on the computer screen. We’re the last ones left in the lab, as usual. We’ve been running this experiment for weeks with no results, and I’m pretty sure we’re close to killing each other. Between the time spent side-by-side in the lab and the three feet of distance between our beds in the dorm, we’re practically inseparable.

I’ve never had a friend like this. A best friend.

I slide the microscope over to him, and he looks through it, then pushes it away with a sigh. “I’m exhausted,” he announces. “Should we call it a night and grab some pizza?”

“Believe it or not, I actually have plans.”

He glances over at me with mild surprise, his eyebrows raised. “Liam Clark. Do you have a date?”

I shrug, the corners of my mouth lifting. “Maybe.”

“Who is she?”

“Claire? From our physics seminar. She asked me out last week.”

“My boy’s getting out there!” he whoops, pushing back from the table. “Damn. I guess I’ll stick around here.”

“Not gonna hit up Sophie?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “We ended things.”

“Oh,” I reply dumbly. “What happened?”

He shrugs, then smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “She wanted more than I could give her, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, man,” I offer. Luke and I don’t talk about our feelings that much with each other. Sometimes, he’ll confide in me, and I always appreciate it when he does, but most of the time — when we’re not working — we just have fun together. “I can reschedule with her if you want to hang for a bit longer?”

“No way,” he replies quickly. “This is a rare opportunity. You might never get another date, Clark.”

I shove his shoulder lightly, and we both laugh. Packing up my stuff, I sneak a glance in his direction. Ever since last semester, he’s been working a lot harder. It feels like every time I see him in our room, he’s sitting in his bed with papers strewn around him, a frustrated grimace on his face.

“See you later,” I tell him as I head out, and he waves in my direction with a half-smile, turning back towards the microscope.

I’m halfway down the hallway when I realize I left my coat on the back of my chair. There’s no way I’ll survive the walk to the bar in the frigid December air without it, so I double back to the lab. When I step back inside the sterile room, I see Luke, bent over the desk, his head in his hands. I’m about to call his name when I hear a low, choked sound and notice the shaking of his shoulders.

He’s crying.

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