Page 60 of My Roommate from Hell
“Walk me through this,” she says. “Because I get why Zarmenus did what he did, but how does this benefit you?”
“I really think he’ll be better this time. And seriously, if I can get that internship, my life will be made. It’s risky, but I’ve weighed up the odds and I think it’s worth it.”
“Huh,” she says. “When you put it that way I can kind of see why you’d say yes.”
“Really?”
“No!”
“It’s my dream internship.”
“But you hate him!”
“I don’t hate him,” I say. “He was just a bad roommate, and he promised to be better.”
“I mean, that internship does sound pretty amazing.”
Even though I was sure in my choice, a rush of relief surges.
“Still,” she says. “This doesn’t seem like you.”
I can hear a note of something like pain in her voice. And I get it. This isn’t like me, not at all. The version of me she knows the best would’ve turned Zarmenus down for a multitude of reasons. I can feel how different I am already, how much being here is changing me. And now it’s smacking me in the face.
“What about your schoolwork?” she asks. “I hate to be, well, devil’s advocate, or I guess the opposite of that. But you always said that you were going to focus on classes more than boys, and now you have a boyfriend in the first week.”
“It’s not real,” I say. “And that’s the thing, an internship like this could be better for me than getting perfect grades. This is for my career.”
“Well, if you’re sure, I support you. Ow.”
“Are you okay?”
On the other end of the phone, I can hear her sucking in air. I look around, unsure what to do. I’m in a different state, miles away. I do know her address, I could call her an ambulance if I needed to. But what’s going on? She’s not supposed to go into labor until near the end of the semester.
“I’m fine,” she says, even though she clearly isn’t. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Are you sure? You sound like something’s hurting you.”
“It’s ligament pain,” she says.
That doesn’t sound fun.
“Have you been to a doctor?”
“Yes,” she says. “He said it’s normal and I should only worry if I’m bleeding. I’m the most metal person you know, and yes, I’m including the prince of Hell.”
“It’s no contest.”
She laughs, which seems to bring on another wave of pain.
“I’m going to go lie down,” she says. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
She hangs up.
I mean, it went about as well as it could. But any worry about her not approving the whole fake-dating situation is now replaced by fear for her. She was in pain, and she was trying to downplay it. The way she talked about it made it seem like this pain has been going on for a while. It must have, if she’s already seen a doctor. It might be different now that she’s well into her pregnancy, but Ashley generally avoided going to the doctor the same way straight men do. No matter what was going on with her, she would never go to the doctor unless it got really bad.
The disconnect between our lives starts cutting me deep. It’s not supposed to be like this. She’s not supposed to be in pain halfway across the country. I’m supposed to know everything about what’s going on with her. I’m supposed to tell her about the Zarmenus situation while enjoying a celebratory lunch after our lecture, where we talk about how cool our teacher is.
