Page 81 of Dear Roomie
I lie in a gasping heap on the mat while the other gym members move around me to gather their things. It’s only been a month since I started training at Double Teep with my friends, and it’s been a wake-up call to just how out of shape I let myself get since undergrad. I used to have practice like this twice a day during the wrestling season, and I may have thrown myself into training at Double Teep with that same intensity knowing full well the half-assed sparing I did with Karis and Nathan last semester wasn’t enough to prepare me for it.
They were right to bring me here, though. The extra time away from the apartment, away from James, has been good for me.
“You coming to Cutter’s tonight? Gage is working.” Nathan offers me a hand and pulls me off the floor.
“Yeah, I just need to hit the showers first.”
He didn’t need to ask. We both knew I’d be at Cutter’s tonight, with or without the invitation.
“All right, cool.” He claps me on the shoulder and starts toward the door. “See you in a bit.”
The single-stall shower in the gym’s tiny locker room isn’t ideal, but it’s preferable to an unnecessary stop at the apartment. I go there to sleep, that’s it.
Avoiding James has been easier than I thought it would be. Between the three of my friends, shifts and classes at Double Teep, and my school obligations, I haven’t had to look hard to find things to occupy my time. She has respected my request and hasn’t tried to force me to talk to her again. The few times our paths have crossed, she was polite but did not push for anything beyond the type of pleasantries you would expect from a distant acquaintance. Despite it being exactly what I asked for, every shallow interaction makes my healing heart ache, but at least it’s healing.
An hour passes, and my muscles still burn, but I’m at least clean and presentable as I push my way through the sea of drunken students who have taken to the streets in packs. It’s not even eleven, and the streets already reek of stale booze and urine—the smell of a typical Athens weekend.
There is a small line outside Cutter’s, but the bouncer at the door ushers me past with a nod. He doesn’t even ask for my ID. I guess he’s seen it enough over the past few weeks that I’m a regular now.
Cutter’s is packed with writhing bodies, making finding my friends a challenge. Our normal spot at the bar is taken by a group of girls brandishing a sign declaring that the blond wearing the crown and sash just turned twenty-one, and the birthday girl has her sights locked on Gage. It isn’t surprising. To his utmost annoyance, he gets targeted for those stupid birthday bucket-list dares fairly often. I think they like the challenge. His face is pinched in a scowl that would have most sane people fleeing, but the birthday girl isn’t getting the hint. I’m sure Karis will drive them away soon enough.
I shake my head with a small chuckle and push through the crowd to find a high-top to hole up at for the night. If I decide to get a drink, I’ll need to fight my way through the crowd, but mediocre beer doesn’t seem worth the effort—it’snot like I’ll drink much of it anyway. Nathan or Karis can bring me something if I get desperate, but that’s not why I come here in the first place. After firing a text off to my friends to let them know where to find me, I lose myself in mindless scrolling.
“Morgan?” A familiar feminine voice cuts through the roaring din of the bar.
I turn and find Evelyn a few feet away. She beams at me like finding me here has made her whole day. I don’t know why she’d look at me like that. She should hate me. After everything happened, I stopped responding to her invitations to volunteer with her, and eventually, they stopped coming. Our budding friendship was pruned before it had a chance to grow roots.
“Hey, Evelyn.” My tone is light, but a pit rapidly grows in my stomach. If she’s here, that can only mean James is nearby. I scan the room but don’t see any sign of her friends. “No James or Chelsea tonight?”
“No, it’s just me. Cutter’s has been blacklisted since, well, you know…” Her face flushes as she casts her eyes down.
I do know.
Beyond my falling out with James, Nathan and Chelsea broke up at some point while I was still locked in the haze of sorrow and self-pity. I didn’t even find out until I caught him making out with some girl in the back of the bar and let him know exactly what I thought of his behavior. He let me give it to him, too, and once I was finished telling him how despicable he was, he calmly filled me in on everything I’d missed.
It wasn’t my proudest moment and only emphasized how awful of a friend I’ve been to him.
“No, Jamie went home for the weekend. She had her big, fancy engagement party last night, and Chelsea…wasn’t in the mood to go out tonight.”
“Oh.” I didn’t even know James was gone.
Last semester, she kept me updated on every single aspect of her day in the notes she left for me. I didn’t think I would miss seeing those pieces of paper as much as I do. Every morning, the empty space on the mirror breaks my heart allover again. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but it hasn’t stopped hurting. I think I preferred it when the notes were scathing criticisms compared to their absence.
“I was hoping to run into you, actually,” she says, moving closer into my space.
“You were looking for me?” Why on earth would she do that?
“Yes.” She pauses for a moment to bite on her lower lip. “You disappeared on me. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
A month ago, I would have said no. Nothing was okay while my shattered heart was still bleeding, but I’ve picked up the scattered shards and stitched them back together, creating a patchwork version of the organ. The fresh scars still fester from time to time, but the wounds have mostly healed, and the constant stabbing pressure has lessened to an occasional dull throb.
Now Iamokay.
“I’m good,” I tell her, earning a soft smile. “Nathan and the gang have been keeping me extra busy. They should be around here somewhere.”
Her face falls at the mention of my friends.
“I’ll leave you to them, then.” She starts to turn away, but I place a hand on her shoulder to stop her, giving it a gentle squeeze.
