the Roommate Mistake

by Elizabeth Stevens

“Here I thought you were gonna miss first lesson,” he said, far too chipper for that time of the morning. Worse, his hair was wet like he’d been up long enough to have already showered.

  “Why would I miss first lesson?” I asked him.

  “I don’t know, but I certainly risked missing breakfast.”

  “Oh, no,” I whispered sarcastically. “Why aren’t you there if you care so much?”

  “I thought I’d walk you,” he said, then held his hands up. “Figure of speech. Walk with you. Companionship not chaperone.”

  “To breakfast?” I clarified.

  He nodded. “Yep.”

  “I don’t breakfast,” I told him.

  “You have to breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day.”

  I looked him over the best I was able to that early in the morning. “I don’t have to do anything.”

  He would not be deterred. “No. But you really should breakfast.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You probably could have been finished by now if you hadn’t wasted your time on me, Sasha.”

  His smile did have its charms. “No time on you is wasted, Elliott.”

  “Don’t try and get cute with me.”

  “I’m honest to God not,” he laughed. “I just legit did not think this was going to be a battle.”

  Alex, it appeared, was as stubborn as me. This was going one of two ways. Either we got into a massive and ridiculous fight about whether or not I went to breakfast and I got a few minutes before class to read my book. Or I could just take the high road and let him have this one, then rue my decision later.

  I sighed. “All right. If I go with you to breakfast, will you leave me alone?”

  For a moment, he looked hurt. But, quick as a wink, he was his unnecessarily chipper self and I thought I must have imagined anything else.

  “Sure, yes. Scout’s honour.”

  As we walked out the door, I asked, “Were you ever even in the Scouts?”

  He laughed. “No. Heaven forbid. My mother would have had a fit if I suggested I wanted to join the Scouts.”

  I wasn’t one to make a dig at other people’s situations when I didn’t know them all that well. Well, no. I was one. I’d just learnt to keep my mouth shut. Mostly.

  “Did you…want to join the Scouts?” I asked hesitantly, not sure what else there was to say.

  He shook his head as he waved to people we walked by. “Not really. Didn’t even know they were a thing until I saw it in some movie or something. I had plenty of outside time to last me a lifetime growing up.”

  I nodded. “How nice for you.”

  He laughed. “If you say so.”

  We walked into the Dining Hall.

  “Now, you’ll probably need to know the lay of the land,” he started.

  “I think I’ll be fine,” I told him.

  But, like previously, he wouldn’t be deterred by mere protestations from me.

  “Those are the wine kids,” Alex said, pointing the one table. “The farming kids. The international kids, dividing themselves ever so subtly by country. The random riches – kids of lawyers, doctors, CEOS, and that. And last but not least, your people, the legacies.”

  “They’re not my people,” I informed him, a little more vehemently than intended.

  He took the vehemence in stride. “Okay. Got it. Not your people.”

  “So, what are you?” I asked him in an effort to defrost the mood again.

  “I’m a swimmer, thank you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes. I knew that.”

  “Oh, stalking me already?” he teased.

  My eyes rolled again. I indicated the dining hall. “From what bunch do you hail?”

  He grinned. “I’m a wine kid.”

  I nodded. “Of course you are.”

  He shrugged. “Wine makes money.”

  “That it does,” I said absently.

  “What are you, then?” he asked.

  I licked my lip as I turned back to him. “Hm?”

  “If you don’t belong to the legacies, from what…bunch do you hail?”

  “Oh, none. Mum’s a librarian.”

  “Cool.”

  I looked at him in case he wanted to rethink that statement.

  “What?” he asked, totally innocently. “It is cool. Librarians are full of knowledge. They’re like magic.”

  I tried to think about any remotely magical aspect of my mother and concluded that putting up with me would have to be it.

  “I’m gonna…” I said, pointing to the breakfast line.

  For another moment, I thought I saw that slight hurt to his face, but it was gone before I could be sure that’s what I saw. He smiled. “No worries. I gotta find the guys.”

  I gave him a nod. “I guess I’ll see you later, then.” It was going to be hard avoiding him when we were basically living together.

  “That you will.”

  I watched him go and decided that the least I could do was find myself a hot beverage if I’d come all this way. Once procured, I found my usual empty table and pulled out my phone.

  I opened my friends’ chat, figuring it was about time to fill them in on the whole ‘being bunked with a guy’ debacle, but my fingers wouldn’t type the words. As they hovered over the keypad, it just seemed trivial. Sure, Flick, Leah and Marsh would care that I was living with a guy, and an objectively attractive guy at that. But they’d also focus on the wrong thing. They wouldn’t think about how annoying it was or he might be, they’d just lose their tiny little hormonal minds about how exciting it was.

  Had I been some kind of normal person, then I might have done the same thing. For a second. The idea was what the stuff of rom-coms was made of – my guilty pleasures come true – but the reality was ever so slightly less…romantic. In every sense of the word.

  Instead of giving them what was probably an important update on my life, I closed the chat and opened my book. One of my books. I always had at least one physical and one eBook on the go. I read for long enough that I ran out of tea and finally began hearing the familiar sounds of mass student movement.

  I checked the clock on my phone and saw that it was definitely an appropriate time to be heading towards class. I saw Alex and his friends up ahead and decided to make a break for it before he felt the need to introduce me to whoever he might decide my people were.

  It was a full day of lessons. Lessons worth the insane school fees. The day before had been a lot of introduction to classes and what our year was going to look like. Not Day Two. Day Two threw us in the deep end. Assignments were started; essays, practicals, research topics. I relished it.

  Not only were there lessons, but administration to deal with. Namely ID card photo.

  A corner of the entrance hall was set aside for students to get their new ID cards for the whole first week. As someone who didn’t like having their picture taken, I’d put it off the day before. However, if Acacia was anything like my old school, then the majority of kids would be lining up on the last day, so today seemed preferable than kilometre-long lines. As it was, there was still a line, but it only took half of lunch.

  “Here you go, Elliott,” the ID card issuer said as they handed me the little plastic card that would be my ticket to most of the school. To their credit, they didn’t bat an eye at my name. I guessed they must have seen them all in their time.

  “Thanks,” I told them, then did the obligatory move away while assessing the damage.

  The damage that year was minimal. Yet again, totally unflattering, but the only person who was going to see it was the librarian and I liked to hope that they judged you more on the books you checked out than how photogenic you were.

  I saw Alex throughout the day. Of course I did.

  He was in our dorm during breaks to swap books over for the next lessons.

  He was in the hallways, constantly surrounded by people, those I recognised and those I didn’t.


  He was smiling. Always smiling. And laughing.

  He also always said hi to me. Whether it was the actual words, a raised hand, or just a nod of his chin, he acknowledged my presence every time he saw me. I’d never been more annoyed at having my existence validated.

  It was ridiculous, the way he annoyed me so much. It made no sense. My immediate appraisal was that he was a popular jock a-hole. The evidence would suggest a significant lack of the a-hole part. Maybe that was what annoyed me. No one in their right mind was that nice to someone they’d just met for no reason.

  “Good day?” he asked as he walked into the dorm after school that day.

  I looked up from my book, safely nestled in the window seat with a cup of tea. “Fine. You?” I felt obliged to return the goodwill.

  He grinned as he nodded. “Great.”

  That much positivity was going to wear thin after a while.

  He kicked his head towards me. “I see you’ve set up camp.”

  “It has its tactical advantages. You didn’t want to sit here?”

  He looked me over like he had no idea where I’d come from or what language I spoke. “What? No. All good. You can have the…tactical advantage.” He paused mid-step, then asked, “Are you expecting some sort of attack?”

  It was an odd question, and one too quizzical to have been intended as witty repartee. It made me wonder if I was. My immediate answer would have been ‘yes’ had I not stopped to think about it. Just what kind of attack was I expecting?

  “Always best to be prepared. Can’t be snuck up on this way.”

  “Would it help if I loudly announced myself every time I entered the room?”

  I smirked. “There’s really no need. In fact, please don’t feel you have to talk to me just because we’re roommates.” I thought I pulled off the earnest politeness more than the bitchy sarcasm.

  “I don’t feel like I have to talk to you. I want to talk to you.”

  My “Why?” I think fully conveyed that I was confused and baffled by anyone wanting to talk to me.

  He shrugged. “You seem…cool.”

  I snorted. “Cool is something I’m not.”

  “Is that what you tell yourself to seem more aloof?” he asked.

  That was a good shot. Real proper backhanded compliment. “Ouch. Okay. No. I just legitimately don’t think I fall under the urban dictionary definition of ‘cool’.”

  He laughed, “Who does?”

  I looked him over pointedly. “Hello?”

  “Naw, you think I’m cool?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I think the rest of the school thinks so.”

  “They might think you are if you gave them a chance.”

  “Firstly, ew. No thank you. Secondly, if I have to talk to people, no.”

  “Of course not. We wouldn’t want to run the risk of social interaction, now. Would we?”

  I gave him a smile. “See? You get it.”

  He grinned. “You’re one strange human, Elliott.”

  “Swamp witch,” I corrected him.

  He gave a little mock-bow. “My bad. In that case, you seem perfectly normal.”

  I inclined my head in the closest he was getting to a curtsey. “Thank you.”

  “Alex!” someone called as they literally slammed into our dorm door. “We’ve been waiting forever.”

  It was the red-head. Followed closely and nearly squashed against our door by the one with the light brown hair. They were both out of their uniforms

  “Dude, what is taking you?”

  Alex pointed in my direction. “We were sharing about our day.”

  “His was great,” I told them.

  They both nodded to me in greeting.

  “Cool,” red-head said. “But when you say ten minutes, you’re usually ten minutes.”

  “I didn’t want to be rude,” Alex said as he started walking to his room, presumably to change for whatever they’d planned to do.

  “Oh, no. Please,” I said. “Feel free.”

  Alex smirked at me before turning to his friends and mock-whispering while pointing to me, “We’re avoiding social interaction.”

  “Ohhhh,” they both said, as though they had any idea what we were talking about.

  Alex disappeared and I looked at the boys in the doorway. There was a very pregnant pause as we all sized each other up.

  The red-head nodded. “Hey.”

  The other one nodded. “Hi.”

  I inclined my head. “Hi.”

  “How, er, are you settling in?” the other one asked.

  I smiled politely. “Fine and dandy.”

  “Good.” The red-head nodded again.

  Another pause. I could have been more helpful. I could have asked questions of them or offered more information. But I enjoyed watching people squirm in those silences. I’d always liked them and it fascinated me that most other people didn’t feel that way.

  “You, ah, like reading, then?”

  I held up the book in my hands. “It passes the time.”

  Another nod. “Cool.”

  “Everyone’s got the third degree?” Alex asked as he re-emerged in jeans and a tee. Then, directed to me, said, “Don’t worry. I’ll be back well before curfew. There’ll be no drinking and no drugs.”

  I gave him a humoured look without breaking into a smile. “Good to know.”

  “Grampa here has to make sure he’s in bed on time,” the red-head chortled.

  Alex wrapped an arm around his neck good-naturedly. “Why don’t you do an early morning sport and see how late you can stay up, huh?” he laughed.

  “See ya,” the light brown haired one said as Alex and the red-head headed off down the hallway.

  I gave him a small wave in response, pleased to have the space back to myself. I’d tried hanging out in my room the night before, but the window seat was way more comfortable. I wasn’t about to claim ownership of the living room and be surly enough to make Alex feel like he couldn’t hang around, but I was going to be glad when he didn’t.

  Chapter Five

  I’d survived my first couple of weeks at boarding school. And, by survived, I mean I’d found something to entertain myself with. Namely, a ‘Who could be most annoying’ contest with Alex. I’m not sure that either of us started it on purpose, only that we both took great pleasure in it. One minute, it was just banter, the next we were pranking each other.

  The first weekend saw very little of Alex. He was out with a girl on Friday – although, where kids dated at a boarding school was beyond me. He had an interschool swimming competition on the Saturday, followed by a party of sorts in the Recreation Room downstairs to celebrate his predictable win. Sunday was the first morning that he slept later than me. At least, he was in his room later than me. Who knew what he might have been getting up to in there?

  Tuesday, I went to shower and found his budgie smugglers hanging, still wet, on the tap. I thought about using his toothbrush to remove them, but even I wasn’t quite that evil. Instead, I used his shampoo bottle. I retaliated to his antic by leaving a pad on the counter. It backfired.

  “Want me to scrounge some chocolate?” he asked casually, coming into the living room.

  I looked up at him and frowned. “What?”

  He pointed back to the bathroom. “I saw the pad out.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Is it that time?”

  “You’re very blasé about it.”

  “Am I supposed to care?” He snorted. “You left it there on purpose. I was supposed to care.”

  I shrugged. “Most guys do.”

  “Most guys are morons. Most guys also probably didn’t have an older sister who wished their younger brother was a sister.”

  “Aw, did you two play dress up?”

  He smirked. “Sometimes. More to the point, she talked. A lot. We also shared a bathroom.”

  I sank further into the window seat, annoyed with my defeat. “Well, good
on you having modern conceptions about women’s health.”

  He shrugged. “Hey, it’s not your fault your womb hates you.”

  I frowned at him.

  “Not cool?” he asked. “My sister says it ALL the time.”

  I’d give him a pass on parroting for the sake of attempted bonding. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

  “Poor little guy. Just wants to do his job.”

  “Yeah, and throws a hissy fit when it can’t. Real peach.”

  “Does sound like a dick,” Alex admitted.

  We left it at that, and went our separate ways to concoct our prank plans. Well, I was concocting, so I assumed Alex was too.

  Wednesday, I walked past his room with my head in a book. He appeared at his doorway and appeared to be saying something.

  “What?” I asked, pulling my headphone out.

  He visibly deflated and it was only then that I realised he had music playing loudly.

  I smiled. “Was that meant to bother me?”

  He sighed. “It was meant to.”

  I waved my headphone at him. “Sorry.”

  On Thursday, every cupboard opened up to inanimate objects with googly eyes stuck on them. My toothbrush. The milk in the bar fridge. Even my tea cup. It was a fair effort. It tended to freak me out rather than annoy me, but I had to admire his chutzpah.

  He walked into the bathroom while I was brushing my teeth – to be fair, I’d left the door open – and I held my toothbrush out to him.

  “I like what you did here.”

  He grinned. “Yeah?”

  I nodded. “Not scary at all.”

  He snorted. “You’re scared of googly eyes?”

  I spat into the sink. “Apparently, yes. Turns out, I like my inanimate objects to stay inanimate.”

  He leant towards me and mock-whispered, “You know the eyes don’t bring them to life?”

  I brandished my toothbrush just in front of his face. “Tell that to my fight or flight mode every time I open a cupboard.”

  He laughed and we said our goodnights.

  Friday night, a different girl to the week before knocked on the dorm door and introduced herself as “Lara, looking for Alex? We’ve got a date.”

  I didn’t need all the information, but I could work with it to annoy Alex. “So good of him to go out tonight. You know, after everything,” I said in an exaggerated whisper.