If I hadn’t already known that, it wouldn’t have been difficult to figure out. She tore in and out of the room on a daily basis like the space was poisonous as well as an eyesore. Today, however, she scrubbed her desk, and the world’s tiniest hand vacuum had been left in the middle of the ugly pink-and-green rug, which reminded me of watermelon.
An armful at a time, she threw out vanilla-bean protein bar wrappers and old coffee cups that had been littering her side of the room into the community hall trash.
Not saying a single word, I headed directly toward my side of the small cube. I’d coveted the idea of having a single all to myself, but I just couldn’t consider the extra few hundred dollars that came with the privilege.
Now, I regretted such a frugal decision.
Previously, my roommates had lived their lives, and I’d lived mine. When it came to my living space, it wasn’t ever a happy home at Barnett, but at the very least, it was a peaceful coexistence for the academic year. Natalie, on the other hand …
“My boyfriend is coming for the weekend,” Natalie announced.
I kicked off my shoes that pinched my toes. I was ready to do the same with my jeans and switch into my sweatpants as I figured out what I was going to do for the rest of the night. I still wanted to take a walk, my entire body tense and tired, before I headed to the library to get some work done.
“Okay?” I stretched out the word, waiting for more.
“He’ll be here soon. So, no offense …” She paused, as if weighing the phrase. “I would rather you made yourself disappear.”
Pausing as I leaned down over my drawers, I turned back to stare at her. “Excuse me?”
My roommate continued to fluff her flat down pillows before walking over to the one thing I had brought in the room that she didn’t seem to have a problem with, turning on the small essential oil diffuser. “Don’t you have anywhere better to be tonight? It’s Friday. You have friends, right? That Indian one you bring around here? Plus, I don’t think you’ll want to stay here with us all night after we get back.”
She had to be kidding.
Natalie raised her eyebrows. “If you get what I mean.”
Oh, I understood all too well Natalie’s not-so-subtle meaning.
“Could you make sure that your weird stuff is … I don’t know … put away? That way, my boyfriend and I don’t have to look at whatever sort of print that is. Not to mention your collection there.” She waved toward my desk, covered in notebooks, tea, and crystals. They were many of the same ones that had been “unintentionally” knocked off the windowsill the last time they were charging.
I turned my attention then to my poster, knowing exactly which one she was talking about. She could be rude about my lifestyle, but her taste in art was just willfully distasteful. “It’s Gustav Klimt. Art nouveau?”
“I don’t care if it’s theMona Lisa,” she said. “It’s art that I’m not a fan of. I don’t want to see some chick swooning while I’m already squeezed in my obnoxious twin bed withmyboyfriend. I get to see him once every month or so. So, get what you need to get and leave, please.”
“Why, yes, Natalie, I will just completely uproot myself from my room for the whole weekend because you decided to invite someone over without asking me if I had anywhere to stay.” I crossed my arms as I glared at the wall, displeasure clearly coating my tone.
I certainly didn’t want to stay here and risk hearing whatever it was Natalie did at night with her boyfriend. Usually, when this sort of thing happened, I would crash with Vadika at her parents’ house, which wasn’t the worst thing in the world. They fed me and treated us like friends having a sleepover–only that wouldn’t be the case this weekend.
“Perfect.” Natalie smirked in a way that was not at all sincere as she grabbed her bag off the hook of her bed before heading to the door. “Be sure that you have everything you need and are out by the time I get back from the sorority dinner please. He’s meeting me there.”
I stared at her as she left, leaving me there in the center of our room.
She had to be kidding. However, in this strange logic of Natalie, I knew she wasn’t. I didn’t want to give in. I wanted to take a stand. I was still unsure just how far Natalie would take spending the night with her boyfriend across from me.
Groaning, I slipped a more comfortable pair of boots on and knotted the laces. Grabbing my backpack, I shoved in a fresh set of clothes and my laptop. Maybe I could still ask Vadika if I could stay at her parents’ place even if they weren’t going to be there. They had at least three cats that could probably use the company.
By the time I made it back outside, I took a turn onto the dirt path that ran along the outskirts of campus. I noted Natalie not far away, laughing with another one of her friends, wearing an oversize football jersey that dipped over her shoulder.
Her laughter faltered as she noticed me. She raised her eyebrows, as if I was about to dare come near her in public.
I rolled my eyes and kept walking.
First-year residence halls were always loud, music and voices sneaking through the cracks of the windows. Academic buildings were turned dark, except for a few rooms still lit up from students likely making a home for themselves for the evening before everything was automatically locked up. I passed all of it as I headed farther up the hill Barnett sat on.
The space was also popular with people who needed to escape and smoke in the afternoon after classes. I mostly used it for the former.
The inlet on the hill was right on the edge of the cemetery behind campus. The grass was slightly too high, and it tickled and scratched my skin, but the view was worth it. Looking out over Barnett the campus glowed. Quaint houses were nestled in patches of thick trees. The wide, ever-flowing river glistened as the sun began to go down in a flurry of oranges and pinks, seeming so far away.
Lifting my phone up to my ear, I propped it, holding it between my ear and shoulder, as I swung my backpack to the ground. I riffled through the pockets, making sure I had everything one more time before I had to live out of my backpack for the weekend.
