Page 1 of My Roommate from Hell
PART ONEHELL IS OTHER PEOPLE
CHAPTER ONE
The good thing about never getting your hopes up is that you’re rarely surprised.
In fact, I can think of only two occasions in the past year when I’ve been genuinely caught off guard. The first was when my best friend Ashley told me she’s pregnant, and was therefore staying in Bakersfield instead of going to college with me like we’d planned since we were freshmen.
The second was learning that Hell is real.
“Here we go,” says Mom, beaming at me from the driver’s seat of our rented car.
I smile back at her as we pass the Point University sign, which means we’re officially on campus. Redbrick buildings are spaced out across immaculately kept lawns and spotless white pathways. Everywhere I look there’s something eye-catching, from fountains to flower gardens and brass statues of college founders. The whole place looks like something out of a movie, almost too perfect to be real. Our next stop is my dorm, where I’ll be spending the next year of my life.
A part of me can’t really believe this is happening. Thinking about college has pretty much consumed the past year of my life: from overanalyzing every major option to the stress of waiting tohear back from applications to, finally, the pure joy when I found out I got in. It’s all been leading to this precise moment.
It’s unlike me to be like this. Getting my hopes up hasn’t ever really been my MO, especially after what happened last year, and my excitement feels a little dangerous. After all, it’s not picture-perfect, because Ashley isn’t here when she should be. Her absence is making everything feel slightly off-kilter, no matter how cinematic the campus is.
But Mom is here, so I’m keeping all that shoved down. It is the Greene way, after all. I learned it from her.
“Oh my God,” says Mom, pointing at one of the buildings, a library, I’d guess. One of the walls is covered in creeping ivy, giving pure dark academia vibes, which Ashley would love. If I know anything about Ashley Wyman, it’s that she’s obsessed with those types of books. “It’s so pretty.”
She’s right, it is. Truly.
I know Mom, and I know she’s been putting on a brave face all day. It’s only faltered a few times, like when we were eating breakfast at the hotel. She saw I was eating mushrooms and her face cracked because I hated mushrooms until I was fifteen, and she always forgets I like them now and treats that as a sign I’m growing up. Or when tears welled in her eyes when she saw that I’d packed the Squirtle plushie, Mr. Turts, she got me for my sixth birthday who has been a mainstay in my room ever since.
She’s genuinely happy for me, I don’t doubt that. But two things can be true at once, and I know she’s not exactly thrilled that I’m moving. In a lot of ways this is as big of a change for Mom and Dad as it is for me. As of today, they’re empty nesters.
I check my phone, hoping for a message from Ashley to distract me from the gnawing guilt. Ever since my going-away party a few days ago, I’ve felt this weird distance between us. It’s mostly because we’re in new, uncharted territory. Our friendship has always been easy, probably because we like the same shows and games, and we see the world through a lens you could call realistic if youwere being kind, cynical if not. For both of us, an ideal night is not drinking or partying but staying in and watching a marathon of a TV show we’ve already seen so many times we could quote it.
For the record, I totally get why Ashley decided to stay back in Bakersfield. Her baby is due near the end of this semester, and she doesn’t want to be away from her family or her boyfriend at the end of her pregnancy, plus her parents are letting her and Jackson live rent-free in the bottom level of their house, which has its own kitchen and bathroom. On top of that she already got into a great college in-state. So, like, hey. Fair enough. Understanding why she stayed doesn’t mean I don’t wish she was here.
I pull at my phone, hoping it’ll refresh. Nothing. Is this the start of our new status quo? As similar as we are, we’ve always had the benefit of physical closeness keeping us together. Her place is only a ten-minute drive from our apartment, and we had school to keep us close. Now I’m a plane ride away. How could the distance be a good thing? The saying goes it makes the heart grow fonder, but I suspect that’s only true in fiction. In real life I’ve only ever seen it make people grow apart.
My phone buzzes, and I scramble to check it. It’s not from Ashley, though. It’s a news report about the exchange:A DEMON GOES TO COLLEGE. I flick it away as fast as possible.
“You good?” asks Mom.
“So good. Not freaking out at all.”
“Why would you freak out?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “It’s just a lot.”
“A lot can be a good thing.” She gets distracted by something out the window. “Is that a gallery? That’s cool.”
I pull at my phone screen. Still nothing.
“Hey, Owen,” says Mom. “What’s the name of your dorm again?”
“Clark Hall,” I say, and I look up from my phone to see what is causing the hesitation in Mom’s voice.
And oh no.
This can’t be happening.
There’s a huge protest in front of Clark Hall. There must be hundreds of people crowded around the entrance. A lot of them are holding signs that say things like:
GO BACK TO HELL
