ROOMIES (Strangers-To-Lovers Romance Novel)

by Bella Grant

  “Wow,” she breathed. “You’re quite the kisser.”

  “Have a great day.” He smiled. “I’ll call you later.”

  Amelia closed the door behind him. As she stood alone in the hallway, she felt a sharp pain radiate through her stomach. What the hell was going on? Did she have food poisoning? Was she hungover? She steadied herself against the wall and started to put on her shoes, but another sharp pain left her breathless and she slumped to the floor. The wave of nausea hit, and she gathered herself just enough to make it to the bathroom before losing her breakfast.

  Amelia leaned against the bathtub, holding her phone in her trembling hands. She considered calling Theodore, but she didn’t want to worry him and thought it might be too soon to burden the man she was seeing with an illness. Instead, she texted Frankie.

  I’m really sick, she wrote. Can you take me to the ER?

  On my way, Frankie replied immediately. Are you okay? Do you need an ambulance?

  No, just you. Door’s unlocked.

  Be there soon, he texted.

  Amelia dropped the phone onto the bathmat and rested her head in her hands. She felt something warm between her legs, and looking down at her khakis, she realized she was bleeding. She wadded toilet paper up and tried to clean herself between the stomach pain and the nausea. Panic built inside her, and her hands trembled as she reached for a tampon.

  The box of tampons was empty. Amelia hadn’t replaced it since the last time she bled. Through the fog of pain and confusion, she tried to do the math. Clutching her stomach, she counted, and then counted again. Five weeks since her last period? Was that right? Was she late? She’d had her last one a few days early, so her timing was off and she hadn’t noticed. She had been so relieved to see it that night in the coffee shop she hadn’t been bothered by the early arrival. Maybe things were just a little bit off? Still, she worried because this time it didn’t feel right.

  Hauling herself up, she splashed her face with cold water and dried it weakly on a towel. She pulled a clean pair of jeans from her dresser and tossed the blood-stained khakis in the laundry hamper.

  Frankie knocked on the door and yelled “Ames, are you in here?”

  “In the bedroom,” she called back feebly.

  When Frankie entered the room, Amelia was curled up on the bed in the fetal position. “Jesus, Ames, are you okay?” he asked, rushing to her.

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “Something’s wrong.”

  “Okay, let’s get you to the hospital,” he said, helping her stand.

  “Frankie,” she whispered, “I think I might be pregnant.” Frankie was silent as he helped Amelia to the door.

  “What?” he asked, surprised. “But I thought you told me you got your period? How can you be pregnant?”

  “I thought I did,” she told him. “But now I don’t know. I just don’t know. I think I might be late. This just doesn’t feel normal.” Amelia trembled, clutching her stomach. “Say something,” she pleaded.

  “I… I don’t know what to say,” Frankie replied, astonished. “I mean, I can’t believe it. And, well, I’m scared for you right now.”

  “I’m scared, too,” she said, her voice trembling.

  “It’ll be okay,” Frankie comforted her. “Watch your step, it’s icy out.”

  As they drove to the hospital, Amelia only broke the silence to say, “Frankie, will you call work and tell them I’m sick and can’t come in?”

  “Of course,” he replied.

  “Hey,” Amelia said softly, “thank you.”

  Frankie reached over and squeezed her arm in the passenger seat. “You’ll be fine,” he said matter-of-factly. “You’ve got to be. You’re my family, Ames.”

  They arrived at the hospital, and Frankie pulled into the ER entrance and helped Amelia out. “I’ll be right back,” he told her. “I’ve got to park the car, and I’ll call work and tell them you’re not coming in. Are you okay to go inside alone?”

  “I’m fine,” she replied, holding her stomach.

  When Amelia entered the ER, she was assaulted by the smell of cleaning sterilizers. The chemical smell made her feel woozy again, and she had to swallow the nausea as she spoke to the nurse at the check-in counter.

  “I have terrible stomach pain and bleeding,” she told her. “And I keep throwing up.”

  “Fill out these forms,” the nurse instructed her. “The doctor will be with you shortly.”

  Amelia took a seat in the waiting room and looked over the forms. The print made her head spin, and she was grateful when she saw Frankie enter. “Everyone at work wishes you well,” he said. “Don’t worry about your shifts. They’re happy to cover.”

  “Thanks,” she said as she filled in the small boxes on the forms with her insurance information and medical history. When she had completed them, Frankie took them to the counter for her.

  They waited an hour before Amelia was called. “Wait for me?” she asked Frankie as she stood to follow the nurse.

  “Duh,” Frankie said, making a face and rolling his eyes. “Of course. See you soon.”

  Amelia sat on the exam table, waiting for the doctor. The nurse made her pee in a cup, and her heart pounded as she stared at the poster on the door. When she arrived at the ER, the scariest thing she could think of was being pregnant, but as her stomach pain continued and the idea of a pregnancy slowly settled on her, her fear transformed.

  The most terrifying thing she could think of now— all that she could really think about—was the baby not being okay if she was pregnant. She felt her mind whirring inside her head, considering all the possibilities, the ramifications, this new reality. If it even was her reality.

  There was a knock on the door and the doctor entered. “Miss Jones?” he asked, looking at his clipboard.

  “Yes, that’s me,” she replied, clearing her throat.

  “Well, Miss Jones, your test results are back. You are pregnant, and the baby is fine. I understand you’ve had some bleeding and nausea?”

  “Yes,” Amelia replied, feeling herself grow faint. “But how is that possible? I thought I had my period some weeks ago?”

  “How long was that after you had unprotected sex?” the doctor asked.

  Amelia counted the weeks in her head. “I’m not sure. Maybe a week? A little less? I was going to take a pregnancy test, but I didn’t because I thought the bleeding was my period.”

  “Ah,” nodded the doctor. “Well, that’s a fairly common mistake. Was your period lighter and shorter?”

  “Yes,” she answered slowly.

  “In that case, it was likely just implantation bleeding,” he explained. “It usually occurs six to twelve days after fertilization of the egg.”

  “So it wasn’t my period?” Amelia asked, struggling to wrap her mind around this new reality. “I… I really am pregnant? It’s not a mistake?”

  “I’m afraid our tests are highly accurate,” the doctor answered sympathetically. “As for the bleeding you’re experiencing now, that’s perfectly normal. And regarding the pain, I think you’ve been experiencing some morning sickness. It manifests differently for every woman. I suggest you get some rest, and try some crackers and ginger ale until you feel less nauseated. You’ll discover different things that will work for you. Everyone has unique triggers and cravings. Any questions for me?”

  Amelia was stunned and stared at the floor.

  “Miss Jones?” the doctor repeated. “Any questions?”

  “Oh, uh… no,” Amelia stammered, blinking back to reality.

  “Well, you’ll need to schedule a visit with an OB/GYN. Do you have a doctor in the area?”

  “Yes,” Amelia replied, unable to fully comprehend what he was saying.

  “Your OB/GYN will be able to go over the details of your pregnancy more thoroughly with you. But in the meantime, try not to exert yourself too much. You want to get plenty of rest and drink lots of fluids.”

  “Okay,” Amelia answered. Her voice sounded h
ollow and distant, leaving her mouth and fading away in the bright room.

  “If you don’t have any other questions for me, you’re all set here. Take care of yourself, Miss Jones.”

  “Thank you,” Amelia echoed, drifting out into the hallway and to the waiting room where Frankie was sitting.

  “Well, what did he say?” Frankie asked as soon as Amelia was in sight. She moved towards the door, and he took her arm.

  “I’m pregnant,” Amelia said softly.

  “Holy fuck,” Frankie blurted out. Amelia didn’t reply. “I mean, are you…” Frankie continued. “Do you… Um, what are you feeling?”

  “I don’t know,” Amelia replied, her voice flat and emotionless. “I’m feeling… um, tired?”

  “I know,” Frankie said, “But how do you feel about the pregnancy?”

  “I really don’t know,” she answered.

  “Are you going to keep it?” Frankie asked.

  She looked at him with a confused expression. “Of course,” she replied, as if such a question was illogical.

  Frankie raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” he assured her. “It’s just we’ve never talked about this stuff… And you know, it’s not like I have to worry about knocking a girl up.”

  “I know,” Amelia said, squeezing his hand. “It’s not a weird question, it just… I can’t imagine giving it up. I was sitting in there, sure I was pregnant before I even got the results, and I was so afraid something was wrong with the baby. It was terrifying.”

  “Wow.”

  “I never really considered what I’d do if I got pregnant,” Amelia admitted. “But I really can’t consider any other option. I just can’t. I have to have this baby. I… I think I want to have this baby.”

  “I mean, are you going to tell him?” Frankie asked cautiously.

  “Theodore?” Amelia asked, surprised.

  “Yeah,” Frankie said, confused by her reaction. “He’s the father, right?”

  “Yeah,” Amelia replied.

  “So are you?” Frankie pressed.

  “I don’t know,” she answered. “I’ll have to eventually, I suppose. But I don’t know if I’m ready to. I think… I’m not sure how he’ll take it. I’m not ready.”

  “Wow,” Frankie said again. “Well, I’m here for you. I’ll be your baby daddy,” he said with a wink, a half-hearted attempt to make her laugh.

  Amelia just pulled him into a hug and said, “I love you, Frankie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Frankie dropped her off at home, going inside to make sure she was comfortable. He made her a cup of peppermint tea and found a box of crackers in her cupboard. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked, checking his phone. “I can cancel my thing.”

  “What thing?” Amelia asked him.

  “It’s nothing,” Frankie shrugged.

  “Is it Jake?” she asked, curious about Frankie’s secrecy.

  “No, that’s sort of weird right now,” Frankie admitted. “I haven’t talked to him in a couple weeks.”

  “What happened?” Amelia asked, concerned.

  “I don’t know, there was just a lot of tension there. It’s like once the moment wore off, Jake freaked out about kissing me and he’s been super distant since. He doesn’t even want to study together anymore. He totally bailed as my partner.”

  “That blows,” Amelia sympathized. “I’m really sorry. I know you liked him.”

  “It’s fine.” Frankie shrugged. “I actually met a really nice guy because if it.”

  “Oh yeah? So who is he?” she asked, propping herself up on the couch pillows.

  “It’s a guy from my Chem class. His name is Kyle. I, um… Well, I think he likes me. And I think I might like him, too. Anyway, we were going to get a drink tonight, but I can totally cancel.”

  “No way, dude,” Amelia insisted. “You better go. Don’t let me stop you. But I do want to hear all about him later, okay?”

  “Deal,” Frankie said, kissing the top of her head. “You’re sure you’re good?”

  “I’m sure,” Amelia repeated. “Get out of here.”

  After Frankie left, Amelia sat on the couch, staring at her phone. She pulled up Theodore’s number and considered dialing it for a few minutes before closing the phone and tossing it on the couch. She found something to watch and settled in.

  As she sat on the couch, staring at the Netflix menu, her phone buzzed with a text and made her jump. It was Theodore. She swiped to open the message, her heart in her throat.

  We need to talk, he wrote. When can I see you?

  Amelia froze. Had Frankie said something to him? He wouldn’t. Frankie would never betray her confidence like that. She felt her heart race as she texted back. Can you come over tonight? She didn’t want him to see her sick and she didn’t want to lie to him about why she wasn’t feeling well, but hopefully by the evening, she’d have recovered enough to fake it through a conversation. She pushed the thought from her head, her hands trembling as she hit the send button.

  18

  Theodore had arrived on campus feeling energized. It was early afternoon, and his morning with Amelia had left him happy and relaxed. After making a cup of tea, he was ready to buckle down and knock out a pile of essays that needed grading. As he settled into his office and picked up the first paper from the stack, he was surprised by the sharp knock on his open door.

  Looking up, he saw Catherine standing in the doorway, frowning at him. “Theodore,” she said curtly. “Would you please make time this afternoon for a meeting? Two o’clock in the conference room.” She turned on her heel and marched away down the hall. Theodore was confused and had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he listened to her heels clack down the hall.

  “What the hell was that about?” David, his department buddy, asked him. David’s office was across the hall and he stuck his head in the door after Catherine left. “She’s frosty today.”

  “I have no idea,” Theodore said, his hands sweating. “Maybe nothing?”

  “Yeah, probably,” David shrugged. “Hey, drinks tonight?”

  “Can’t tonight, sorry,” Theodore replied. “Rain check?”

  “No worries,” David shrugged, returning to his office. “Another time.”

  Theodore tried to return to his grading, but the paragraphs bled one into the other and he couldn’t keep the words clear in his mind. What did Catherine want? Why had she been so cold? They’d always had a friendly working relationship, and she had never behaved like this. In fact, Theodore half-suspected she was interested in him romantically, even if this was elementary school behavior.

  Theodore’s conscience weighed on him. Could she know? There was no way. They had been so careful. He ran through the possibilities of his exposure but comforted himself by rationalizing away every possible scenario. He had nothing to do but wait out the clock for this meeting. It was 1:15 in the afternoon, and all he could do was wait.

  After forty-five long minutes of pacing his office, his breath shallow and his heart pounding, Theodore looked at the clock and was filled with a mixed sort of relief to find the time was up. He put on his coat, picked up his pen and a notepad, and headed for the conference room.

  When he entered the room, Theodore was surprised to see the faculty panel sitting on one side of the table, with Catherine at the head. Theodore stopped short, panic flooding his body. He tried to compose himself and gave the panel a friendly nod. “Afternoon, all,” he said, smiling.

  The panel did not smile back at him, and Theodore swallowed the dry lump in his throat as he stood by the table. “Have a seat, please, Theodore,” Catherine said coldly, gesturing to the middle seat on the empty side of the table. The hot seat, thought Theodore. Was this a surprise review?

  “Do you know why we’ve asked you here today?” the elderly professor in the middle of the panel asked him.

  “No idea,” Theodore replied, clearing his throat.

  “You’ve been called under review by t
he ethics committee,” the professor explained. Theodore didn’t know the man—he was some sort of emeritus faculty, an old guard from the previous department hierarchy, he assumed.

  “Oh,” Theodore replied flatly. He made a mental note not to show signs of guilt. Smoothing his coat as he settled into his chair, he said, “May I ask what for?”

  “Disorderly conduct with a student,” Catherine said from her seat at the end of the table.

  “Excuse me?” Theodore asked, his voice inflected with annoyance.

  “We have evidence of your inappropriate conduct with a student,” Catherine repeated. “And a complaint has been filed against you by the department. The purpose of this meeting is to discover the degree of involvement and how it will affect your position at the university.”

  “Excuse me?” Theodore repeated, his anger mounting.

  “Do I need to repeat myself?” Catherine said testily, narrowing her eyes at him. Theodore was silent.

  “We will begin by reading the complaint filed against you,” the white-haired professor said slowly. His voice was scratchy and thin, and Theodore bristled against the words.

  “On December 14th, you were seen in Lexington on a date with a student who is currently in your seminar course. The witness has photographic evidence of your romantic involvement and has delivered them to the department. Let me assure you, Mr. Bell, these allegations are very serious and may impact your employment here at the university. What have you to say?”

  Theodore said nothing. His mind flew through all his possible responses. Could he deny it? How could he, with a photo? Lying would only make it worse. What could he do but admit his involvement?

  “I don’t deny it,” he said finally, his voice low and steady. “But I would like to see the evidence and know who lodged this complaint against me.”

  “The evidence is this,” the old professor said, handing him a photo. It was fuzzy and poorly taken and had apparently been printed on the department copier on the back side of old class handouts.