Page 24 of Roommating

Adam locks his jaw. “I forgot we were in a bar bathroom with a line outside.”

My breathing slows. “Same. I guess we should…” I step around him in the limited space to open the door. My hand is on the knob when he gently pulls on my arm.

I turn around to face him.

“We good?” he asks.

I smile softly. “We’re good.”

When we step out of the bathroom together, there’s a mix of wolf whistles and suggestions to get a room. Mortified, I keep my head down and rush back to my friends under the assumption Adam will find the girl he came with. Will he leave with her? My ribs squeeze tight at the thought.

“I still say we go to Brooklyn this year. Manhattan is tired,” Peter is saying.

Carley shakes her head. “But Manhattan doesn’t require being on the subway on St. Patrick’s Day. Last year someone puked an inchfrom my sneakers. My green, sparkly Allbirds were nearly green,chunkyAllbirds.”

“We’re making plans for St. Patrick’s Day? Already?”

My friends gape at me.

“What do you meanalready?” Gabe asks. “It’s next weekend.”

I hitch a breath. “What? No! What’s today’s date?”

“March ninth.”

“March ninth, March ninth, March ninth.” I repeat the date because it feels important. Then I remember why. My blood turns cold the way it does when I momentarily misplace my phone and freak out that I’ve lost it. Tonight, my phone is safe in my purse, but I have a different,worseproblem. I pull it out and check the calendar. March eighth was yesterday. March eighth was the deadline to apply for a fellowship through my school that would have saved me thousands in tuition. I started filling out the application but never finished. When I dismissed my last reminder, I must have turned it off completely.

“You okay?” Carley asks me, concern apparent on her face.

“You look whiter than usual.” Gabe’s thick dark eyebrows furrow, belying the mocking tone of his voice.

“I’m fine. I just… I need to go. I’ll call you later… tomorrow!” My realization rendered me completely sober, and I weave my way through the crowd of people like I’m playing—and winning—Frogger. I rush through the door, although I’m not sure what the hurry is since the deadline passed and it’s not like I can do anything about it at two in the morning anyway. I just know I can’t be here anymore.

I inhale air I wish I could say was fresh, but it’s stale, post-rain, lingering smoke air. But the cold feels good… for a second… until my arms break out in goose bumps. I left my jacket inside.Fuck.

“You forget something?” My black quilted coat appears as if I summoned it. Only it’s attached to Adam’s hand.

I focus on slipping my hands through the sleeves to hide my surprise and pleasure that he followed me outside. “Thank you.”

“Carley gave it to me. You left in a rush without it. It’s March. Who will manage my grandma’s online payments if you catch pneumonia?”

“She pays them herself. I just…” Then I notice the cheeky grin on his face.Oh.“Too soon, Adam. Too soon.”

He laughs.

I step toward the curb. There are no cabs. I might have to walk to Fourteenth Street to catch one. It’s only a few blocks, but I consider trying Lyft again. It might not be as expensive at this hour. There’s no way I’m taking the bus home. It will take forever.

“So why the rush out of the bar?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.” I can’t believe I missed the deadline. “Why did you follow me outside?”

“You looked upset.” His ears turn red. “And I was leaving anyway. Figured we could share a cab. Here’s one.” He raises his arm to hail it like he’s lived in Manhattan his entire life. We get in and he tells the driver our address.

We’re silent as the cab heads west on Fourteenth Street. “You’re not still mad at me, are you?”

“No.” I almost wish I still was because then we could just make up again and the problem would be solved.

“My mom’s identity was stolen when I was a kid.”

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