Page 25 of Dear Roomie
At first, she watches the screen with predetermined contempt, but it doesn’t take long for her to get sucked into the magic of it all. Her face relaxes as she leans forward, watching the drama unfold with wide eyes. A small smile curls the corner of her lips, and the sight flips my stomach.
I can’t bring myself to turn my attention back to the episode. My eyes do a quick scan over her, looking for any signs that her fight with Tanner involved more than harsh words. When I don’t find any, I relax back into my seat. I don’t think James would put up with that type of abuse, but I had to be sure.
As the episode plays on, James becomes more at ease. The tension she was carrying melts off her shoulders. Right as the credits roll and the next episode queues on the screen, my stomach decides to interrupt with a loud growl. That sound breaks the spell she was under, and James turns her focus to me.
“Are you hungry?” she asks. Her voice is soft and riddled with uncertainty. We have reached uncharted territory.
“Kind of,” I tell her as my fingers rake through my hair. “Dining halls were closed when I left Ramsey. I’ll be fine until breakfast, though.”
“Why didn’t you get something once you got home?”
“I don’t keep any food here.” My eyes drop to the floor with the mumbled confession. I can’t bear to see the judgment in her eyes. My stipend only goes so far, and it seems wasteful to spend it on extra food when the dining plan has already been covered by my loans.
“Do you like lasagna?”
I lift my gaze back to her in confusion.Lasagna? I’m not sure how we got from my financial situation to what food I like.
“I can put some in the oven if you want it,” she continues as if that answers all my questions.
“Sure…I mean, yes, I like lasagna. Thank you…I mean, if it isn’t too much trouble, that is.” I stumble a bit over my words and wince at how caught off guard I sound.
She beams at me, and it lights up her whole face. I think it’s the first time I’ve seen her smile since I saw her dancing at Cutter’s, and it’s definitely the first time she’s ever smiled atmelike this. If I were Tanner, I would be doing everything in my power to keep that smile on her face permanently. Even with her raccoon eyes and unkempt hair, my she-devil looks like an angel.
“It’s not a problem at all,” she says, her southern drawl thickening. She gets up and makes her way over to the fridge, and I don’t resist the urge to follow her. I’m like a junkie: I’ve gotten my first hit of her radiant smile, and I’m already jonesing for another.
She opens the door and pulls out a full tray of homemade lasagna, ready to be baked. I lean against the counter and watch her move around the kitchen with practiced ease. For the first time since I moved in, I feel like I’m welcome in this apartment. It doesn’t take her long to wrap the pan in foil and put it in the oven, not even bothering to wait for it to preheat.
“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything, but why did you have a tray in there ready to go?” My tone is teasing, but her smile falters and then fades completely. That was clearly the wrong thing to say. James folds her arms in front of her and curls in on herself, turning back into the sad ghost of herself that came out of her bedroom less than an hour ago.
“Hey, please tell me what’s going on.” I move closer, and this time, I don’t resist the urge to reach out and place a hand on her bare shoulder. She stills fora second and then leans into my touch. Warmth radiates from where my skin meets hers.
“I made the lasagna for Tanner,” she admits, melancholy coating each word.
“If you made it for him, then why did you give it to me? You didn’t need to do that. I wou—”
“No, Morgan,” she interrupts, “I made it for him to have for dinner tonight, but he didn’t want it.” She sucks in a deep breath, and her eyes grow glassy with unshed tears. “I planned a night in for us, something simple. I made his favorite food, and I figured we could watch a movie and spend some quality time together. It’s been months since we’ve had the time to just do nothing together. He started a new job that’s been eating all his time, and I did summer classes, so I couldn’t go to him much.”
The floodgate opens for both her words and her tears. She wipes away the trailing liquid with the base of her palm, smearing the remnants of her makeup even further.
“I know I’m being stupid,” she says with a bitter laugh. “He didn’t do anything wrong by saying he would rather do something else. We still had fun, or we did until he got so drunk that he ended up spending the night with his head in the toilet. I just wish we could have had more time together. He leaves in the morning, and I feel like I barely saw him.”
“You aren’t being stupid.” But I am as I pull her into my arms. She melts into my embrace, and I hold her closer, whispering reassuring words in her ear and running my hand in soothing patterns along her back as my shirt grows damp with her tears. After a few minutes, her crying quiets and she pulls back. I let her go despite my every instinct to keep her close, and I immediately miss her warmth and sweet, woody scent. She wipes the remaining tears from her face and adjusts her posture, standing straight to be the woman who tore me down the day I moved in.
Her lips open and close again like she’s trying to find the right words to say. She will probably apologize for being upset or something equally as unnecessary.
“What movie,” I ask her before she can utter a word.
“What?”
“What movie did you want to watch?”
“It’s stupid.” Her cheeks turn pink as she drops her gaze to the ground.
“Stop saying that,” I growl at her, and her eyes widen as they snap back to mine. “Your interests aren’t stupid. Your feelings aren’t stupid. Now tell me what movie you want to watch.”
“It was the one that came out a few months ago about World War I. I really like war movies.”
“Go put it on.”
