Page 4 of Fall From Grace
“Wow” is all I can say as she leads me through the house.
“Workout room is in the basement—that’s where Elias spends most of his time, when he’s not in class or with me. He’s not a people person. He’s probably down there right now,” she rattles off before she leads me to the stairs.
The house isn’t overly large; it’s only two stories up, but it’s enough to have three bedrooms with three bathrooms up top, and a half-bath downstairs, along with a living room, a full-blown dining room, and a decent-sized patio out back.
We pass what must be Sloane’s room, and then Elias’s room—odd that they both have their own rooms and they’re together, but hey, whatever suits them, I guess. We come upon the room the furthest away from the stairwell, and she steps inside. “This would be your room.”
It’s about the same size as my bedroom at home. It’s empty, meaning there isn’t any furniture, unlike a dorm room, which comes with a bed, either a dresser or a closet, and a desk. This just has a closet.
Hmm. I don’t really want to move my whole bedroom set here. Maybe I can buy a cheap futon or something to sleep on.
“Well?” Sloane asks. “What do you think?”
I step inside the empty room, glancing around at it. The old me would say a confident no, but the old me… what good is she? What good has she done? She’s a pushover. She’s pathetic.
She’s as good as dead to me.
So, I say the only thing I can: “I’ll take it. When can I move in?”
And that’s how I end up living in a house just off-campus with two strangers. I move in that Saturday. My parents want to help, but I keep reaffirming that I can do it myself. I don’t tell them I’m not moving into the dorm with Meghan; they have no idea I’m living off-campus with a girl whose father was a serial killer.
Oh, yeah, I looked her up. Let’s just say the little story she told me isn’t the half of it.
And what’s even better? I’m so busy I don’t have the time to sit and cry. It’s a win-win for me, in that respect.
On the day of the move-in, I meet Elias for the first time before he and Sloane help me unload my packed-to-the-brim car.
“Wren, this is Elias,” Sloane introduces me to her muscular boyfriend. He stands just behind her, a frown on his face as he takes me in, acting totally unimpressed with me. “Elias, this is our new roomie, Wren.”
Elias is a handsome, six-foot-tall jock, with thick black hair and equally black eyes. The way he stands so close to Sloane makes me feel as if he has no interest at all in me—which is totally fine. It’s what I want, actually.
“Hey” is all he says, and all I say back to him is a semi-awkward “Hi.”
And that’s that.
Sloane and Elias aren’t like my parents; they don’t need to talk to fill the silence as they help me unload and bring everything to my new room. Plus, with Elias’s muscles, all the heavier stuff is no problem at all. Honestly, we make damn good time. My car is totally unloaded by the time lunch rolls around.
I try not to stare at them too hard when we’re working, but I do catch traded looks between Sloane and Elias. They look happy together. Their eyes twinkle when they look at each other, and it stings a bit. I wouldn’t say I’m jealous, but…
No, no, I am jealous. I’m jealous, upset, hurt, and still so betrayed.
“You don’t have a bed,” Sloane remarks, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed.
“Next time I go to the store, I’ll buy an air mattress or something,” I say as I unzip one of the many bags of clothes I brought. My fashion sense might not be anything to write home about, but that didn’t stop me from bringing way more clothes than I’ll ever need. Same with shoes.
“I can have Elias bring my bed in here—”
“No,” I say quickly, giving my new roomie my best smile. “That’s okay. Please, don’t. You’re already doing so much for me.”
“A bed’s a bed. Besides, most nights, I’m in Elias’s, anyway.”
I keep shaking my head no until she relents and disappears, leaving me to unpack in peace.
Later that night, when my room is sort-of put-together and all of my clothes are either folded neatly or hanging in the closet, I sit in the corner of the dark room and lean my head back against the wall. Through the nearby window, a shred of moonlight shines inside. There’s so much more room here than I would’ve had in the dorms, but without a bed, it really does feel empty.
The room isn’t the only thing that’s empty. I am, too. I’m empty, and yet I don’t think I’ve ever hurt this badly before in my entire life.
Up until last week, my life was just fine. Bereft of tragedy. Never been to a funeral. Still have all four grandparents. My parents are still together and happy, and I have a little sister thatdoesn’t piss me off. I had what I thought was a relationship that would last all throughout college, a guy I genuinely thought I’d marry at some point.
