“She didn’t do anything—her roommate was smitten with me. It wasn’t her fault. Couldn’t tolerate the girl after a while, and Eliza is more my type.”
“You have a type?” Mum asks. “How did I not know this?”
“Because I was with Caroline most of my adult life.” I roll my eyes.
“Speaking of Caroline…” she begins. “I ran into her mother at the market last week. Seems Caroline is still devastated.”
“She’s still not over the breakup?” It’s been eight months; she needs to get over it. Start dating someone new, someone with more money and better connections, no doubt, since that’s the only thing she wants.
Little gold-digging shrew…
“Guess not.” She chews. “Shocking, really.”
“Mum, I’d love it if we didn’t talk about her at the moment—I don’t want to have nightmares when I go to sleep.”
“Ah yes, you’d rather talk about this Eliza then.”
I laugh low into the mobile. “Not her, either.”
“Because you like her?”
Yes.
I’m silent.
So silent Mum has to ask, “Jack? Are you there?” a few moments later.
“I’m here.”
“Well…” Her voice is a heavy sigh. “I guess my only piece of advice would be: do not take the girl to Vegas, do not get drunk, and do not get married. Not that I don’t love my daughter-in-law, but perhaps this go-around my son will do it the proper way.”
“I’m not going to accidentally marry my roommate. How many times do I have to say it?”
“Mm, can’t hurt to say it again, can it? To be certain.”
I hadn’t realized my mother was such a smartarse, but we learn something new every day, don’t we?
“Eliza and I are just mates,” I repeat hollowly.
“Say that over and over again, dear. You might actually start believing it.”
We talk a little longer until she is finished with her breakfast and wants to leave the house. After we disconnect the call, I lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling, thinking about our conversation and my roommate sleeping a few doors down.
It’s going to be a very long night.
Eighteen
Eliza
Of course it’s a shitty day outside, overcast with not a single ray of sunshine in sight—the perfect weather for a run-in with Kaylee on campus, Lilly in tow, in the quad.
Could the day get any worse?
They’re coming toward me on the sidewalk, and it’s a long trip to nowhere; I can’t turn left and I can’t turn right—the sidewalk doesn’t go that way. But then again, why should I hide from them?
I did nothing wrong, but try telling them that.
“Well, well, well, look who it is—the boyfriend thief.”
Boyfriend thief?
That’s a stretch, even for her. Regardless, it stings, causing me to blush.
I clamp my lips shut so I don’t say something sarcastic in reply, nearly two weeks of emotional turmoil brewing inside me and threatening to spill out.
Frozen in the center of the sidewalk like a deer caught in headlights, I halt, students swerving and diverting to avoid crashing into me.
“Hey, guys.”
“Hey, she says.” Kaylee flips her blonde hair and purses her lips. “I would ask how it’s going, but—I already know.”
Her typically pretty face contorts into a look I haven’t seen on her before, mocking and arrogant. Is this what it’s like feeling her censure? I’ve never been on the receiving end but imagine other girls have.
It’s chilling, to say the least.
“You do?”
How could she possibly know I’m living with Jack? I haven’t told anyone but my friends from back home. Not even my mother and father know yet—which reminds me, I should call them tonight…
“Duh. We’re the ones who kicked you out.”
It seems she loves reminding me of that nugget of information, bringing up the fact that she elected to leave me homeless toward the middle of the semester knowing I’d have zero options for living arrangements.
My eyes stray to Lilly, who’s been awkwardly standing by silently. She looks ashamed, hiding her gaze when I look at her.
“Thank God for Jack,” I say under my breath.
Not quietly enough, for my ex-roommate laughs. “Jack,” Kaylee scoffs. “He’s the one who got you into this mess—why would you be thanking him? Oh, that’s right, you’re probably dating him now.”
“I’m not dating him,” I correct her. “But he did take me in out of charity.”
“Take you in…what does that even mean?”
I decide to wipe the smile off her face. “Took me in as his roommate because I was desperate.”
“You live with Jack?” Lilly asks in a hushed tone.
My other ex-roommate isn’t as subtle.
“You’ve living with him now?” Her voice is a screech, reaching an octave usually only sopranos can attain. “Are you fucking serious?”
I feel like a mean girl myself, giving her this information, knowing it will upset her. It feels petty and spiteful, though it is somewhat satisfying seeing the stunned look on her face.
I can’t say I’m at all proud of the way this conversation is going, and ugh! What a mess!