My Roommate is a Boy

RIVER

I stare at the house in front of me and then at my phone again; it is exactly the house I had rented for my four years here. I look around the place and see similar houses lined up around the street. I take a deep breath and walk up to the door. I had been told by my roommate via chat that she was going to be around but might not be in when I get there, so I just need to go in with my key that I had gotten delivered.

I dig through the bag slung over my shoulder for the key. "Oh my goodness!" I exclaim as I search. I know you had put it in here; why then was it not there? I squat and search through the bar until my fingers finally glide through a slippery, silver-like metal. I pull it out and plant a kiss on it before I push it into the keyhole and open the door.

The door clicks open, and I am left with a huge space right in front of me. This must be the living room. I push my bags inside, glad I only had to struggle with one suitcase for now, since my other things will arrive later that week. I walk in, leaving the suitcase at the door, and the door closes.

I pass the kitchenette and walk to one of the two doors side by side. I open one door, and I see suitcases lying around. "I guess she hasn't gotten round to unpacking yet," I murmur to myself before closing the door silently and then opening the next. I see an empty room with the windows closed, and I smile to myself. This is the perfect house. I am glad that I snatched it up when I did.

I walk into the room and sit on the bare bed for a moment before I walk back to the common area and drag my suitcase with me into the room. As if my father knows I had arrived, my phone begins buzzing, and I smile when I see his name plastered over the screen.

"Daddy, I just got here," I say happily into the phone.

"How did you find the flight down?" he asked in his usual husky voice.

"Scary, but I am glad I came. I am yet to go see the campus, but I am glad that I came," I say, and I am sure he can feel my happiness.

"I miss you already, kiddo," he murmurs into the phone, and I close my eyes, trying to stop tears from flowing once again. It had been a war for me this morning to be able to leave him. It was almost as if I was tearing my heart out.

My mom had died when I was one year old, and since then, my dad and I had only grown stronger and closer together. "I miss you too," I add, not wanting to think about anything. "Do you want me to come back?" I asked, knowing he was not going to allow me. I feel bad for leaving him, but this was for him. I was going to be the best student and make him proud.

"Of course not, kiddo, you have fun and make sure that you make your college experience count. Remember what I have been telling you..."

"Live your life for yourself." I cut him off before he could recite his mantra. "You don't have to worry about anything; I am living my life for myself," I say, taking a deep breath. Doing this for him is the same as doing it for myself.

"My college days were one of the best in my entire life, and I want you to..."

"You want me to have the best as well, and I agree. I want to have the best, but I need you to trust that this is the best."

"I trust you," he lets out after a sigh.

"I have to go set up my things. I will talk to you later."

"Sure thing, kiddo," he says, and the line beeps dead. I lay on the bed, feeling my body sink into the soft mattress. I close my eyes and only open them when I hear the door beside mine open. I wait for a while before I walk to the kitchenette to get a bottle of water.

I can't wait to meet my roommate; we have been talking over the phone for a while now, and even though she seems a little mysterious, I want to meet her. Maybe we would complement each other so well, even though I am hoping that we get along.

I take a bottle of water and struggle to open it before gulping down the entire contents. I gulp down the water, and my head is still thrown in the air with the bottle in my mouth when the door opens and a shirtless boy emerges, standing a few meters from me. I sputter the water flying from my mouth as my eyes trail his body.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" I ask, coughing as I try to understand why a shirtless boy would be in my apartment.

"I should be asking you that," he says, a smirk on his face. I look at him; his blue eyes are piercing, but they look tired, like someone who hasn't slept in a long while. His blonde hair was tousled in loose curls on the top of his head. He stared at me, all the questions he wanted to ask boldly on his face.

"This is my apartment; you must have gotten into the wrong one," I say, trying to stop myself from looking at his perfectly toned chest.

"You like what you see?" he said, not responding to my earlier claim. I look up at him, and he raises his eyebrow with a smirk plastered on his face. Oh, dear God. I was not prepared for this. Not now. Not ever.

"What are you saying?" I throw him a look of disgust, and he tilts his head. I can't understand why he was so calm when it felt as if I was about to shit my pants in that moment.

"River?" he asked, and I nodded. Then I saw his smirk widen as he stretched his hand towards me as if we were in a business meeting. "Hi, I'm Taylor."

I stare at the blue-eyed Ken-looking boy staring at me, and I shake my head. This is impossible; Taylor is a girl. She has to be a girl; that is the only way this makes sense.

"You're what?"

RIVER

I stare at the boy standing in front of me; there is no way the mysterious Taylor I had spoken to over text was a boy. It made no sense. The automatic system had paired us together, and when I saw his name, I assumed that it had to be a girl. The university systems have never made mistakes like this ever. They were the best and have proven it for years now.

I stare at him again, hoping this was a dream, even though I would never dream about a boy as gorgeous as this; it being a dream was the only explanation for what I was seeing right now.

"Are you going to keep staring at me, or are we going to sort this out?" I stared at him, the tone of his voice leaving me confused.

"You're in the wrong house." I managed to say, gathering my strength and walking to the room, digging through my bag. I take out the file containing all of my documents, and I search through until I find the rental agreement. I walk back out, and he is still standing there shirtless; he didn't even think of putting something on to cover up, almost as if he was enjoying the attention.

"Here's my agreement for this house, and my roommate is Taylor, a nice girl in 300-level theatre arts," I say, feeling my chest rising and falling as I realise that Taylor is a unisex name and this boy standing here could also be a student in theatre arts.

"Well, I am Taylor DeLuca, and I am in my 3rd year of theatre arts," he responds without missing a beat.

"Impossible!" I scream even though nothing about the situation is impossible.

"And you must be River Wilson, first-year pharmacy," he recites as if he were at a play.

"Yes, but..." There is no explanation here. I had been so comfortable with the name and the house that I had not bothered to ask what gender Taylor was. I never thought Adlerbridge University's off-campus housing system would make a mistake.

"So you are really my roommate?" I ask, and he nods, his hair swaying with his head movement.

"I have a similar one," he adds, dropping the agreement to the counter out front.

"I am sure there must have been some kind of system mixup; I will go to the housing office and have all of this figured out," I tell him, and he shrugs as if saying I could do whatever I wanted. I walk back into the room and pick up my shoulder bag and keys, ready to go complain and get all of this sorted out.

My father would be so disappointed if he got to know that I was sharing a house with a boy. In reality, I do not know what he was going to feel, and I was just assuming this.

"Where are you off to?" His voice stops me before I can get halfway through the living room.

"To the housing office"

"They are closed."

"Huh?"

His hand points to the fancy wall clock, and my eyes follow his hand and land on the clock, stating a few minutes after five pm. "The office closes by five, and even if you leave now, the place would be locked," he explains, not looking in my direction. I had no idea where I was __going, so there was a chance I would have missed my way, but it was a risk I was willing to take, so I wouldn't end up spending the night in the same room as this boy.

"Oh," I say as I slowly lower myself into the couch.

"You can go tomorrow," he explains, and I want to tell him how all of that would ruin my schedule. I plan to get all of my admission-related issues and class schedules sorted tomorrow, but if I have to go to the office, then that would disrupt my plan. I look at him once again, and I know he does not care about what I do, so I nod.

"Okay then, I guess we would have to share the house for tonight," I say, and his response once again is a shrug. I do not want to have a conversation with him either, so why was he being so rude?

I walk into the room and close the door before locking it from inside. I sit on the bed and stare at the empty wall ahead. I turn my head to my suitcase, still sitting pretty in the room. I was somehow glad that I had fallen asleep instead of unpacking; I would have been too stressed to have to pack it up again. I'm lost in thoughts of how the hell this could happen to me when I hear a knock on the door. My roommate is a boy. A hot, shirtless, arrogant, smirking boy. This was a Greek tragedy, and I was the main character, about to suffer. I did not need to stay with him too long to know he was the kind of boy who broke hearts and rode motorcycles in leather jackets.

"River?"

"Do you need something?" I called back without bothering to stand up.

"Are you going to get the door?" His question was accusing, and I hated it. I stood up and walked to the door before slightly opening it and putting my head through the crack.

"How can I help you?"

"Aren't you going to have dinner? I was going to have some pizza, and I was wondering if you wanted me to order some for you."

I didn't expect him to care about what I ate, so I stared at him for a while, and his response was a raised eyebrow. "Well? What is your answer?" he asked, and I cleared my throat.

"I am not sure if I want pizza, but thank you for asking." I am about to shut the door in his face when my stomach rumbles. I have been too nervous to eat on the plane, and I haven't had anything to eat aside from a few slices of apples my father had cut open in the morning.

"Your mouth is saying one thing, but your stomach is saying another. Which should I believe?" He asked, amused by what was going on.

"I'm not hungry; I just have an upset stomach," I lie, trying to cover up how embarrassed I am.

"Are you sure? I mean, I think you should...."

"Don't worry," I say, cutting him off, ready to slam the door in his face, but before I can even react, his hand is pulling mine out of the room. I stumble forward and touch his chest by mistake; my hands linger just enough to feel his hard rock abs. It was like touching marble sculpted by sin. I hated myself immediately. I jolt backwards and stand free of him.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" I say in a hushed, screaming tone.

"Getting you dinner," he turned as if nothing had just happened. "Do you want anything extra with the pizza? Maybe some garlic bread or salad?"

"I will take the garlic bread," I murmur. Why was he being kind? Bad boys don't offer garlic bread.

I couldn't believe what had happened, but I was hungry, and his offering food was not the worst thing in the world.

RIVER

Taylor was quieter than I would have loved to be during dinner, and I could not be happier. When I offered to pay for what I had eaten, he waved it off. I did not like being indebted to him, so I planned to leave him a few bills when I moved out by tomorrow. I have no idea how long the wait would be at the housing agency, but I must get it done by tomorrow so my life can get on track, and I have no reason to lie to my father.

I look down at my phone. I had promised to check in with him before I went to bed, but now that I could not be honest, it was hard. I wonder if there would be other things I couldn't be honest about with him. Was this going to be the reason that I drifted from him? I try to focus my mind on the present and stop worrying about what has not happened yet.

I take my phone and call my father. I hear screaming and muffled sounds in the background. "Dad," I groan into the phone.

"Kiddo, I am just taking one drink," he defends almost immediately.

"And one drink would spiral into a few bottles, and then you would be drunk. Who's going to pick you up and make sure you get home safe tonight?"

"You don't have to worry about that; I am a grown man who can take care of myself." I want to counter him, but I can't.

He went through these phases, drinking more than usual and disappearing into bars while I cleaned up the consequences.

"Make sure you get home tonight."

"Yes, ma'am," he teases, and I sigh. He should not be teasing me when he was the one in the wrong. "Are you all settled in?"

"Nope." I want to tell him why, but I can't seem to bring myself to do so. "I fell asleep and figured I could do it tomorrow," I add. It's not a lie, only a half-truth, and until I sort this out, he does not need to find out.

"Huh! River Rainbow Wilson? You did not follow a schedule?" he says, and I roll my eyes. "I guess you are taking my advice after all," he adds.

"I told you I will," I lied, knowing that once this housing situation was behind me, I was going to go back to my tight schedule. That was the only reason I was able to get anything done in life. I believe that everyone should have a schedule they follow to the letter so that they will never worry about not getting this done.

"Okay, let me let you get some rest so you can do all you have to do early tomorrow," he says as if he knew what I was about to say.

"Good night, Dad. Don't stay out late, and make sure you eat something once you go home. You know what beer does to..."

"Good night, kiddo," he cut me off and cut off the call before I could ramble on. I plug the phone into the bedside and lie on the bed. I had made the bed because I had no other option.

My alarm goes off at five am, and when I look out, the sun is still down. I say a little morning prayer before I get out and begin to do a little warm-up in the room; that is the only way I can get my body moving.

I play a soft, low-fi beat, making sure the volume is not loud enough to wake Taylor. I take out my things and go to the bathroom so I can freshen up for the day. Once I am done with my bath, I go into the room and put on a white tee neatly tucked into a pair of mom jeans.

I put on a necklace my father had given me when I turned fifteen; it had belonged to my mom, and he waited so long to make sure I would love and cherish it. Wearing it always made me feel like she could still see me, like someone was watching to make sure I didn't mess it all up. I toss my hair into a neat ponytail before taking a double look at myself in the mirror. By the time my morning routine is complete, it is already seven am.

I am a bit hungry, as I was the kind of girl who always wanted to have breakfast, but I did not know what I was supposed to do. I knew that if I left the room now, I could get a place to eat some bread and coffee before I got to the using agency. I had done a little research and found out exactly where it was, three miles from the house, and it would take me forty minutes on foot, which means if I left now, I would be in time to meet them open by eight.

I slip out of the house to the empty street and begin to walk, following the directions on my phone, stopping to check if I would see a place to eat something before the craziness of the day descended. I see a coffee truck that sells a few scones and coffee; left with no choice, I get one scone and a cup of Americano and then find a place to sit.

I finally made it to the housing agency, and I was greeted by a woman who looked like she was in her thirties and twenties at once. Her face looked older, but her clothes and energy screamed 'forever 23.'

"Hello, ma'am, I am River Wilson, and I..."

"We do not have any rooms left; this semester was brutal." Hearing her say that made my heart skip a beat, but I was sure that I would be able to convince her to swap me with someone else.

"Oh no, I already have a room," I say, and she looks at me as if I had gone mad.

"Then why are you here?"

"There was a mix-up," I say, setting the file on the table that separated us and pulling out the rental agreement. "My roommate is a boy." She looks up at me as if I had just spoken a foreign language. I clear my throat and reaffirm.

"My roommate is a boy."