My Roman: Boys on the Hill, #1 An Enemies to Lovers College Romance

by Rose Croft

  “I’ll take her home,” Nick popped into the living room dressed in a tee and sweats with keys already in hand.

  “The fuck you will,” Roman growled with chest bowed and ready for another confrontation.

  “Look, man, you need to cool the fuck down.” Nick’s eyes were filled with concern as he came closer to me.

  Roman stepped in front of him before he could get any farther. “Back off, Jensen. Don’t start this shit with me today. I’m not in the mood to play.”

  “This isn’t a game, bro. You know me better than that,” Nick responded solemnly. “It’s not like we couldn’t hear what was happening in here.”

  The fact that others heard us normally would’ve caused me shame, but I was too shaken to care. Axel stepped in and added. “Come on, everyone needs their space to chill for a bit.”

  Roman looked like he was about to unbridle his rage on his friends, but he finally relented. He glanced at me with a mixture of anger and helplessness, and I turned away before I allowed myself to feel any sympathy for him. He didn’t deserve my sympathy. He damn sure didn’t deserve my trust. He deserved to know for once in his life that he was not entitled to anything he wanted when he wanted it. Myself included.

  What is it that you have that they want, Mom? The thought flashed through my brain for the millionth time, and I decided to skip my morning classes and drive back home to search through the apartment for any clues I could find. What could my mother have that would be of any value to Roman’s father? I thought about how her eyes flashed in fear when she’d seen Roman that day in the hospital.

  I passed through the door and the apartment looked exactly the same as we’d left it a few weeks ago. I thought back to the bittersweet memory of Roman cleaning the place. Little did I know, he had an ulterior motive. Or maybe I did, but subconsciously didn’t want to believe it. Shaking it off, I set down my bag and made my way to her room. I started with the drawer in the nightstand by the bed. There were a few worn paperbacks of her favorite mystery books and a small book of daily devotionals. I thumbed through them in case she left any notes, but found nothing. I rifled through her dresser drawers, but only found her clothes.

  I rubbed my forehead in frustration leaning against the doorjamb. I started thinking about the contract Roman mentioned. Initially, I thought he was crazy, but after this morning events? Nothing sounded too farfetched unfortunately. Where would she keep important documents? Think, Theo, think.

  It dawned on me when I was filling out my college applications; I had to have a copy of my birth certificate, high school diploma, along with other documents. She’d kept them in an old hat box and pulled them out for me. I remember how we got sidetracked when she pulled out a Mother’s Day card I’d made her in kindergarten, since she collected my schoolwork over the years.

  I dropped down and made an eye sweep under the bed. Nothing there except dust balls. Gross. I stood up with hands on my hips and glanced at the closet door. Striding over, I yanked it open and glanced up on the shelf over the clothing. There were hats, scarves, old blankets, but no hat box. “Dammit, where is it?” I rummaged through her clothes and checked below where the small space was crammed with shoes. Then I spotted a corner of the red box hidden in the left corner behind a pair of boots. Bingo!

  I fell to my knee and pulled it out, falling back in a sitting position. I wrenched off the lid and saw a pile of papers. The old card I’d made out of construction paper was sitting on top of the stack. Scooping it out, I saw other documents in a manila folder: her lease agreement on the apartment, proof of purchase of our cars, medical bills from when she was in the hospital from her car wreck. I tossed it aside and saw another folder.

  Flipping it open, I scanned over the formal paper and paused swallowing thickly. This was the documentation Roman was talking about. It wasn’t an employer/employee agreement. I passed through the legal jargon, and it basically said Rhonda Daniels agreed to drop her accusation against Roman and my hands shook. My stomach felt queasy because it was all wrong in the first place. Roman’s father offered her sixty thousand dollars and…one hundred seventy-five thousand dollars to me in a fund set up as a scholarship in my name.

  “No,” I whispered. “This can’t be true.” I knew nothing. I thought we had no money. I’d applied for several scholarships. My grades were good. I’d earned the right to go to college. I closed my eyes thinking back to how I’d been turned down several times until my mother convinced me to fill out an application from some wealthy older man who was a philanthropist and an alumnus of Hillside University. I applied and easily got the scholarship worth the same amount stated in the contract. So easy, I didn’t even have to go in for an interview. “Oh my God.”

  I drew my knees up dropping my head in shame. Roman knew this. He had to know this. How pathetic I must be to him. And, I was. She’s dependent on me. I rocked back and forth trying to figure out how to get out from under this. Under their hold. Under his hold.

  But what information did she have that they wanted so badly? I leaned over the box and saw a black marble composition notebook at the bottom. Nothing was labeled on the front, but I pulled it out and flipped open the cover and read the date at the top in my mother’s perfect cursive handwriting from ten years ago:

  July 20th—I’m so excited because today I was offered the job by a very wealthy family to be a full-time caretaker. The pay is good and Robert Martinez offered us free room and board, so I will be saving on expenses as well. I finally have the chance to make a better life for my baby girl.

  I skimmed through several pages as she wrote a daily entry documenting her day, seeing through my mother’s eyes our time living on the Martinez estate:

  Aug. 30th—Today Virginia had a good day. She talked about how much she loved watching the sunrise in the mornings, so I made certain she was on the east patio at seven a.m. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. Her joy was contagious and I looked over my shoulder to see Robert watching us from inside. For the past month, he’d always check in probably to make sure I was doing my job. He seemed like a shrewd businessman. But today he actually smiled at me.

  Oct. 11th—Today was a rough day for Virginia. She was withdrawn and didn’t want to come out of her room. She sat in front of the window and stared out blankly for what seemed hours. I tried to engage her in conversations, but she only had monosyllabic responses. I felt as though someone was watching us. I looked up and saw Robert. He was leaned against the doorframe; his eyes were on me for several moments before he stood up and walked away.

  More entries outlined Mom’s struggles and successes with Virginia and yet something was odd in her writing. The glances between Robert and her soon turned into subtle touches. His hand on her shoulder, giving her encouragement to not give up on his wife. The long conversations about how he felt alone and how Virginia was withdrawing from him. More moments where they had introspective conversations alone. Those interludes eventually turned into an embrace and intimate words. My stomach sunk with dread.

  Feb. 2nd—The inevitable happened and I knew it was wrong, but I wanted it too. Robert kissed me. I feel so conflicted. Here I am trusted by Virginia to take care of her, but fear I’m falling in love with her husband…

  My mouth fell slack as if I didn’t need more surprises in the day than I’d already had. I kept reading page after page. There were so many entries the notebook was full. Each page I read, made nausea swirl in my lower abdomen. This was what Robert Martinez was looking for. Jesus, Mother, what did you do?

  Roman

  She didn’t show up for class. Was I shocked after this morning? No. I was one step away from murdering my best friend as well as my other roommates, but I knew I needed to get my shit together. They were already watching me like I was a psychopath. I cooled down and was civil to Nick when I saw him in class. He swore he didn’t know where Theodora was and she didn’t divulge any information. He reiterated he’d only driven her home out of concern for both of us. If I had to weather an
y more of his guidance-counselor-on-an-after-school-special-bullshit, I might snap his stupid neck.

  Knowing Theodora, she wouldn’t say a word to anyone, much less my friends. She was never much of a talker or gossiper and whatever happened between us in the past wasn’t something you shared out on a leisurely drive.

  She didn’t return my text or calls. Not that I was expecting her to.

  She wasn’t in her dorm room either, and her car was gone. My guess was she went back home to look for whatever information my father so desperately wanted. She probably had a better idea of where to find it than me. I couldn’t leave campus and go after her because we had a game tonight, and Coach always gathered us together several hours before, so we dined together as a team and spent time at the stadium to prepare.

  Hours later, in the locker room, my thoughts still drifted. “You okay?” Nick clasped my shoulder looking at me like he was a sports psychologist or some shit. We were in the training room getting our ankles taped an hour before kick-off.

  I nodded a response. We weren’t going to sit around and share fucking feelings before we took the field to go to battle. I needed to get focused knowing Theodora was consuming my thoughts. Knowing this wasn’t good. But I couldn’t stop it. And we were playing a high stakes game. Everything was on the line tonight.

  “Get your head in the game. Everything else can wait,” Nick added tapping a finger to his temple. I swear that fucker was pushing my boundaries.

  “What the fuck? You’ve been on Pinterest searching positivity quotes?”

  “Shut up, asshole. I’m serious. We need this win tonight,” Nick said and flexed his wrapped ankle. “We need you, man.”

  “I’m good.” As soon as my ankles were taped off, I stood up. “Worry about yourself.” I walked off with my usual swagger. I’d be ready for this game. However, my mind was still on her.

  “It wasn’t pretty, but in the end we won,” Coach Jones spoke after the game. He was right. This wasn’t our best game, but we found a way to win. This was probably one of the worst games I’d ever played. Our offense had three turnovers, and I’d contributed to two of them having the ball stripped from my hands when that shit rarely happened to me if ever. Nick had warned me to get focused, and I wasn’t until the second half rolled around.

  Luckily, Nick kept his end of the bargain having the defense ready and held the opposing team to only two touchdowns. I thought he might try to kick my ass at halftime. I mean, he could’ve fucking tried. However, I couldn’t argue with him about getting on my ass about my play. It sucked.

  Later, I was walking out of the stadium as Nick, Axel, and Dmitri followed behind talking about whatever the hell they were going to do tonight. “You going to the PIKE house tonight?” Axel asked behind me.

  “Nah. I’m going home,” I muttered. No one made a comment, although they probably thought I was lying. I was. I was going to drive to Theodora’s apartment because I assumed that’s where she went. Hopefully, I could make her see reason. Let her know how ruthless my father truly was, and how I was playing his game to protect her. I was the only chance she had whether she liked it or not.

  I tuned out the conversation behind me because who the fuck cared about campus parties? “I’ll see you guys later.” I waved my hand up and went straight to my jeep doing my best to avoid the crowd of fans, player’s girlfriends, and family waiting for them in the parking lot. As I approached my car, I paused when I saw two familiar people who I’d rather never see anytime soon leaning against the hood.

  “Well, son, that was a very underwhelming game you had tonight.” Robert Martinez pushed off the hood to his full height as I neared. Antoni snickered beside him.

  “What are you doing here? It’s been awhile since you’ve been to my games.” My father rarely gave a shit about watching me play. He only ever showed up for appearances only. He damn sure wasn’t here because he had a burning desire to see if the Hillside Falcons would remain undefeated and move up in the polls to the top five in the nation. Furthermore, he certainly didn’t care whether or not his son was in contention for the Heisman trophy.

  “You question why I would be here? It’s parent’s weekend, and you didn’t even remind me or act like you wanted me here. I’m hurt, Roman.” His condescending tone displayed anything but a wounded attitude.

  “Cut the bullshit, Robert, why are you here?”

  “Watch your language with me.” I knew it got under his skin when I cursed. It bothered him even more when I used his God given name. What did you expect, Pop? You raised us to be uncaring robots.

  “Someone is salty tonight,” Antoni added with a smirk. “I wonder why? Trouble in paradise?”

  “Why are you here? You don’t have any friends at school? Or do you still get homesick and have to hang on daddy’s pant leg every chance you get?”

  That tugged my brother’s smug look upside down. “At least I’m not pussy-whipped by poor white trash who whores herself out to the highest bidder.”

  I clenched my fist ignoring his unimaginative jibe. One day, he was going to push me too far. “What do you want?” I turned to my father.

  “I’m hosting a party tomorrow night for Richard. A small gathering and I wanted to confirm that you would be there since Taylor already committed for the both of you. I forgot to mention it this morning since you ended the call so abruptly, and you’ve obviously been too busy to talk to your old man.”

  “I knew about it.” I vaguely remembered Taylor mentioning it a few weeks ago, but didn’t give it too much thought after. I’d rather run ten miles in pads than have to attend a boring dinner party for her over pretentious father to raise money for his campaign.

  “You better be there. We have a surprise for you, and I hope to have this situation we discussed this morning resolved by this time as well, or I will take matters into my own hands.”

  I nodded wordlessly knowing I had to get to Theodora and finish this shit once and for all. My debt to Pops would be paid, and I would put all of this in the past.

  “Enjoy your evening. I would say great game, but we both know I’d be lying,” Antoni said lightly as he walked off with my father over to the red Ferrari two spots over. I watched as the engine revved loudly before they sped off. My father and his precious sports cars—a real chick magnet he was.

  I grabbed my cell and called Theodora. Of course, it went to voice mail. The robotic generic message came on because she hadn’t set up a voice mail message. “Fuck.” I tossed my phone aside and took off out of the stadium hoping my hunch was right that she was at her apartment.

  It was almost midnight when I pulled into the rundown parking lot, and it irked me she was here alone. I parked in the back, several spots away from her battered Corolla that looked like it was on its last leg. I saw a light on through the kitchen window. Before I stepped out and knocked on the door, I grabbed my cell and dialed her number trying in vain again. When it beeped, I clicked off and pocketed my phone.

  Clutching the car handle, I paused. If I knocked on her door in the middle of the night, she would never open the door. And if she did open the door, then I’d be pissed because why the hell would you open your door in this neighborhood after midnight?

  I rubbed my eyes deciding I’d keep my ass perched right here. In my Jeep. In a shitty parking lot. For hours, until daylight. This was a lot different than the sleeping arrangements less than twenty-four hours ago. However, I felt more at ease knowing I was keeping an eye on the place. I saw her silhouette as she passed by walking into the kitchen. I wondered if she couldn’t sleep. I wanted to take her nightmares away. I wanted to be done with this. How did everything get so fucked up?

  She passed by again and soon the light went out. Sleep well, Corazón. I will make sure the nightmares never hurt you again.

  “Wake up, sleepy head. I love you.”

  “Am I dreaming because if I am, I never want to wake up.”

  “Open your eyes and see for yourself.” I cracked open one eye
staring into an endless forest through her sultry greens. I traced the sprinkle of light freckles over her cheekbones as her full lips curled in content. Her blond hair was mussed and spilled over her bare shoulders. She looked like a wood nymph. My wood nymph. My girl who said she loved me. Mine…

  The early sun pierced my eyes, and I winced as soreness set in from sitting cramped in my jeep too long. Not to mention the hits I took during the game last night. I didn’t remember falling asleep. Last time I checked, it was five thirty in the morning.

  I shifted my head from side to side hearing the pop in my neck. My guess, it wasn’t too long ago since the sun rose telling from the deep blue sky and the angle of the sun. A few cars passed by as I sat, but other than that not much had changed since I parked here hours ago. I picked up my phone to see it was after eight in the morning. I scanned the lot searching her old car, but the spot was empty.

  “No.” I shot out the door, loping across the fractured and uneven pavement to her apartment. Knocking relentlessly on the worn door, I finally gave up knowing she had already left. I kicked the door in frustration. “Where did you go?” I whispered out loud as I walked back to my vehicle.

  Again, I pulled out my phone and called her, waiting as the voice mail beeped. “Look, Theodora, I don’t give a shit if you hate me right now, but I’m trying to help you. Call me.”

  I waited a few minutes, knowing damn well she saw my calls and my anger and fears were rising with every minute that passed.

  Five minutes later, “You have reached the voice mail of…” I clenched the cell in frustration. “Theodora! Where the fuck are you? You don’t understand the trouble you’re in. I’m not the enemy. Call me now!”

  No response.