Page 2 of The Roommate Situation

“I know this is hard,” Lucy says as she plays with my curls. “But I have to say, babe, I think you might be better off in the long run. I know you liked him, but Zach always kinda gave me ick vibes.”

I stare at her, my eyes watery. “What? Really?” Seeing how he treated me tonight, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but I never knew she felt that way.

She nods and shares a look with Jackson, telling me he agrees.

Jackson shrugs. “He wasn’t mean or anything, at least not that I could tell, and I never thought he’d cheat, but yeah, Lucy’s right, just bad vibes.”

“Why didn’t you guys say something, I don’t know, months ago?” I say, irritation in my voice.

“Would you have listened? You were enamored with him from day one, and he seemed charming, I guess, but maybe that was the problem. He was a little too charming, you know what I mean?”

She’s right. I’ve been infatuated with him since we met at a party about nine months ago. Honestly, I was surprised he noticed me. I’m typically the one in the corner with a book and headphones on because I can’t handle how loud the music is, and my friends have dragged me along despite my desire to be alone, because they're convinced it’s good for me to socialize. I don’t mind parties sometimes, but I can’t handle them for more than an hour and then I’m shutting down or getting overwhelmed by all the commotion and stimulus. My favorite way of socializing is just hanging out with the two of them. There’s so much less pressure that way, and I’m horrible at small talk, so I go when they invite me and stay close to them until they’re ready to mingle, and then I hide, or leave.

For whatever reason though, he managed to catch me in the short amount of time it took me to get a drink from thekitchen, and had flattered me endlessly. Told me how cute I was, how much he liked my glasses and freckles, and the way I dressed. Asked me where I’d gotten the bow-tie and suspenders I was wearing. Even told me how pretty my eyes were. I was so shocked that he’d deigned to pay attention to me at all, that when he suggested fucking in the bathroom down the hall I couldn’t say no. He was not only insanely attractive, but he was the first guy to ever show a genuine interest in me, and I was lapping up the attention.

I've never been popular. High school was rough and I never had any sexual experiences at all until college. And even then it was minimal. I’m kinda nerdy and I’ve never considered myself particularly attractive. At five foot four I’m fairly short and skinny, and add social awkwardness to it, and it doesn't add up to much, so his attention felt like everything.

I had blown him, and then he had told me something had come up and he had to leave. I was disappointed he hadn’t offered to reciprocate but shrugged it off. The next day he found me after one of my classes and it was the same thing, blowing him in the bathroom. Then he’d asked me to come to his place that night and we’d fucked for real.

It had been okay, but not anything memorable, and I had been a little discouraged that I had waited so long for sex only to have it not be everything I was expecting, but I figured it was just me, because he seemed to get a lot out of it. I just remember it hurting more than I thought it would, even for it being my first time, but when I mentioned it to him he told me it was normal and would feel better the more we did it. Spoiler alert, it did not.

My phone buzzes and I reach for it. I don’t know what I’m expecting. Maybe for him to tell me he has a twin and the guy I saw fucking someone else in our bed wasn’t him. Part of me really wants that to be the case because I still can’t believe he cheated on me, on my fucking birthday.

Zach: Where are you? Come home. Let me make it up to you. I’ll make you the birthday dinner I promised and we can talk. I’ll even give you your present.

I just stare at it in disbelief before another text appears.

Zach: Come on, Rory, stop being so fucking childish and answer me. You know I didn’t mean to hurt you, okay? We can work this out. I need you, baby. Don’t do this to me.

Don’t do this to him? As if he is somehow the victim here?More tears fill my eyes and slide down my cheeks.No. No I don’t fucking know you didn’t mean to hurt me. In fact I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what you meant to do or you wouldn’t have left the goddamn door open and fucked him when you knew I would be coming home!

The worst part is that I want to believe him so badly. I want to believe it was a mistake, that he didn’t mean it, that somehow magically, he tripped and his dick fell in the guy’s ass. Maybe Zach wasn’t the boyfriend I’d always dreamed I’d have but he was mine, and it felt good to have someone who was mine, someone who wanted me. God, I know he’s full of crap, but that doesn’t stop me from considering going back and letting him “explain.” Giving it another chance.

It’s not lost on me that with all of these messages he’s sending, never once has he apologized or even said he was wrong, or regrets what he did.

Zach: Seriously, come home, Rory. Come home. If you're off blabbing to your little friends I’m gonna be so pissed. You better not be saying anything to them. Just come home, and let’s talk.

“Um, k, I think that’s enough,” Lucy says, sliding the phone out of my hands and locking it as I feel the blood draining from my face. “Can I make a suggestion?”

I nod and she takes my hand, giving it a squeeze that helps ground me.

“Leave your phone with me tonight. I won’t look at it, I promise, but I don’t think you should either. Nothing he has to say is going to be good and you need some time to clear your head.”

I swallow and nod. I hate not having my phone on me, but she’s right. It’s not a good idea right now.

“What do you say to a movie night at my place?” Jackson says. “We can binge watch theAvengersmovies and stuff our faces with ice cream.”

I nod, my tears having subsided and giving way to shivers. My brain is a foggy mess and I know it will take some time to process things. Lucy slides my phone in her bag and we make our way to Jackson’s, Lucy with her arm around me the entire way.

I wake up the following morning with a smashing headache, hopping off the couch in Jackson’s living room when my stomach lurches, and racing towards the bathroom.

As I’m vomiting up the ice cream and nachos and the drinks from the previous night, everything comes back to me in a rush and I groan.

I jerk and put a hand to my head when I hear a bang on the front door. Slowly I make my way to my feet and flush, then rinse my mouth out before washing my hands. By the time I get to the living room, Jackson has already answered the door, and my eyes widen when I see Zach standing there.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jackson says.

“Let me in, Jackson,” Zach replies, sounding pissed. “I want to talk to him and I know he’s here.”

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