Page 2 of Seeds of Friendship (University of Mountain Springs)

The house is actually... not terrible.

It's this old Victorian-looking place painted white, sitting on a corner lot like it's been there since the university was founded. The porch wraps around. There's an actual yard, and I can see why they usually reserve it for seniors. It looks like a real house, not some shitty student rental.

“Holy shit,” Ethan says, suddenly more awake. “This is way nicer than Crawford Hall.”

“Don't get excited,” Alfie mutters.

Troy unlocks the door and we file in. The living room is huge—mismatched furniture that's seen better days, but clean-ish.

There's a brick fireplace, built-in bookshelves, and windows that actually let in light.

The kitchen's dated but functional, with a table that could seat eight if you're friendly.

“I call the room furthest from everyone,” Alfie announces, already heading up the stairs.

“Dude, we haven't even seen them yet,” Troy protests.

“Don't care.”

We follow him up. There are four bedrooms, two on each side of the hallway, with a bathroom at each end. Alfie's already claimed the back left room, dropping his expensive luggage like he's marking territory.

“I need the one closest to the bathroom,” Ethan says, still looking green. “For... reasons.”

That leaves Troy and me with the two front rooms. We look at each other.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” he suggests.

“You're on.”

He throws rock. I throw paper. The room on the right is mine—bigger windows, better light. Troy doesn't even look annoyed, just shrugs and heads to his room.

I drop my stuff and head back downstairs. Ethan's already claimed the couch, looking like death warmed over. Troy's in the kitchen, opening cabinets and frowning at their emptiness.

“We need supplies,” he announces. “Food, cleaning stuff, probably some basic dishes that haven't been touched by whoever lived here before.”

“I'm not moving.” Ethan groans.

“I'll go,” I offer, mostly to get out of this awkward energy. “There's probably a Target or something nearby.”

“I'll come,” Troy says immediately. “Someone needs to make sure you don't just buy beer and cereal.”

“I wasn't going to—”

“You were absolutely going to.”

He's not wrong.

Alfie appears at the bottom of the stairs. “Get toilet paper. Good toilet paper. I'm not suffering with single-ply for a year.”

“Anything else, your highness?” Troy asks.

Alfie considers this. “Coffee. Decent coffee. And if any of you drink instant, I'm moving out.”

“Coffee snob,” Ethan calls from the couch.

“Functioning adult,” Alfie corrects, disappearing back upstairs.

Troy rides shotgun in my car, which feels sorta intimate after knowing him less than a day.

He drums his fingers on the door, glances at me, then blurts, “So what’s your deal? Why’d you really forget to apply for housing?”

I keep my eyes on the road. “Honestly? Just spaced it. Had a weird summer, lots going on.”

He studies me like he can see more under the surface. Probably can—Troy strikes me as the type who collects secrets whether you want him to or not.

“What about you?” I shoot back. “The roommate thing. How bad was it really?”

He laughs, sharp and bitter. “Connor Matthews. Heard about me hooking up with his ex. Key word—ex. Ok? I don’t mess with girls in relationships, not my style.

She’d dumped him two weeks earlier, but he didn’t wanna hear it.

Dude’s a cannon. One night, she called me crying—said he was outside her place, shouting about how he couldn’t wait to beat my ass.

I went over, made sure she was okay. He’d left and once she was safe, I figured it wasn’t my problem anymore.

I was heading to college anyway… until I saw we were assigned as roommates.

A year stuck with a guy who thinks I stole his girl? No thanks.”

I wince. “Brutal.”

“Yeah. Easier to just bail and find new housing. I can’t be dealing with that kind of drama.”

Silence stretches, comfortable enough. Troy’s the kind of good-looking that sneaks up on you—messy charm, easy grin. The kind of guy who probably hooks up often, but never sticks around after. Trouble.

He breaks the quiet with, “You got siblings?”

“One sister. You?”

“Same. She’s off to college next year.” His jaw ticks like the thought stresses him out.

Protective older brother vibes, noted.

Troy directs us through Target like he's done this before, grabbing things I wouldn't have thought of—a shower caddy, extra towels, a basic tool kit.

“Ok. You’ve either lived alone or had roommates before,” I observe.

“Nope. But I basically raised—” He cuts himself off, jaw tightening. “I just like being prepared.”

We're in the coffee aisle when Troy nudges me. “Don't look now, but that girl's been staring at you for five minutes.”

I glance over. There's a girl by the tea section—long dark hair, oversized sweater despite the warm weather, clutching a basket like it's armor. She quickly looks away when our eyes meet, color flooding her cheeks.

“Go talk to her,” Troy suggests.

“Pass.”

“Dude, she's cute. Got that whole shy bookish thing going on.”

She is cute. Big eyes behind wire-rim glasses.

“Exactly why I'm not going over there,” I say, turning back to the coffee selection.

“What?”

“Look at her, man. She's not a hook-up girl. She's a girlfriend girl. The type who wants to hold hands and meet your family and text good morning every day.” I grab Alfie's fancy coffee. “I don't do girlfriends.”

Troy stares at me. “You’ve picked up on all of that from one look?”

“It's survival.” We head toward checkout, but I can feel him waiting for more.

“Look, relationships are quicksand. First, it's just hanging out, then suddenly she needs you to be there for her bad days, pick her up when her car breaks down, remember her sister's birthday. She starts depending on you for shit—emotional support, stability, all of it.”

“And that's... bad?”

“When you've already got people depending on you? Yeah.” I grab some cereal, not meeting his eyes.

“My family needs—they have enough going on.

I can't be someone's boyfriend on top of all that. You start caring about one person that much, everything else becomes secondary. Your family, your goals, your friends—all of it takes a backseat to keeping her happy. I don’t wanna do that.”

“That's pretty cold, man.”

“It's practical. Relationships make you selfish. And I can't afford to be selfish.”

Troy's quiet for a moment. “You ever just been friends with a girl? No expectations?”

I laugh, but it's hollow. “Doesn't work like that.

I've tried. Every single time, it ends the same way.

Either she catches feelings and I have to be the asshole who doesn't feel the same, or there's some drunk night where lines get crossed, or I start wanting more and fuck it all up. Better to keep boundaries clear from the start.”

“So what, you just hook up and bounce?”

“Basically. Set expectations early. No sleepovers, no dates, no feelings. Just fun.” I shrug. “It's cleaner. And I make sure it’s what the girl wants too. But that girl? She for sure wants more than that.”

Troy suddenly straightens, his whole demeanor shifting.

“Hello,” he murmurs, and I follow his gaze to two different girls examining coffee makers. They're clearly freshmen—that mix of trying too hard and not knowing how to try yet. Both hot though, both blonde, matching yoga pants.

“Don't,” I warn, but Troy's already moving.

“Hey,” he says, sliding up with that smile he can turn on like a switch. “First time shopping for dorm stuff?”

The blonde one smiles back. “Is it that obvious?”

“Nah, we’re doing the same. See.” He grins, holding up his basket. “I'm Troy. This is my roommate, Freddie.”

“Jessica,” the blonde says. “This is Sophia.”

“We’re roommates too,” Sophia adds, eyeing me with interest.

“Aw, that's cute,” Troy says. “Freshman year roommates. You guys nervous about starting?”

Jessica laughs. “A little. We don't really know anyone here yet.”

“Well, now you know us.” Troy leans against the shelf like he owns the aisle.

“Hey, you guys know of any good parties tonight? We haven’t heard of any yet,” Sophia admits.

“Oh, well, perfect timing then,” Troy says without missing a beat. “We're actually throwing one. House party, nothing too crazy. You should come.”

I stare at him. “We are?”

“Of course, we are.” He doesn't even look at me. “First night in our new place. Oak Street, the white house on the corner.”

“That sounds fun,” Jessica says, already pulling out her phone. “What time?”

“Like, ten?” Troy suggests. “Bring whoever. We're trying to meet people.”

They exchange numbers while I stand there trying to process that we're apparently throwing a party barely two seconds after we moved in, with a possibly dying roommate on our couch.

“See you tonight,” Brittany says, giving me a smile that suggests she's already picked which roommate she's interested in.

After they leave, I turn to Troy. “A party? Really?”

“Come on, they were hot. You weren't going to say anything?”

He's not wrong. “Ethan might actually die.”

“He'll rally. Besides, we need to establish ourselves. Can't be the weird house nobody knows about.” He grabs Alfie's fancy coffee. “Trust me, this is how you make friends. Throw a party, provide alcohol, become legends.”

“Or get shut down by campus security. Besides, how are we going to get alcohol?”

“Details.” He heads toward checkout. “We should probably buy solo cups.”

“And actual food.”

“Shit, right. Food.”

We grab three frozen pizzas and a case of water, which Troy insists is “responsible party hosting.” The total makes me wince, but Troy splits it without hesitation.

The cute girl with glasses passes by us on her way to checkout. She gives me this small, hopeful smile that makes something twist in my chest. I deliberately look away.

“Cold,” Troy mutters.

“Yeah, well.” I watch her leave, shoulders slightly hunched like she's protecting herself from something. “Better cold than cruel. Better to disappoint her now than three months from now when she realizes I'm never going to prioritize her over everything else.”

“You know,” Troy says as we load up our cart, “maybe not every girl wants to be your everything. It’s kinda big headed, bro.”

“In my experience, something always turns into everything. And everything is what I don't have to give.”

We pay and head out. I catch one last glimpse of that girl loading her car, careful and methodical about it. The kind of girl who probably has her whole life planned out, including the boyfriend who'll fit perfectly into it.

Good thing I know better than to apply for that position.

Back at the house, Ethan's actually standing, attempting to help Alfie set up the WiFi router.

“The password can't be 'password',” Alfie's saying.

“Why not? It's easy to remember.”

“Because literally anyone could guess it.”

“Who's trying to steal our WiFi?”

“Everyone. That's how the world works.”

Troy dumps the Target bags on the counter. “Children, please. The adults have returned with provisions. Also, we're having a party tonight.”

“We're what?” Alfie looks horrified.

“Party. Tonight. Here.” Troy's already unpacking solo cups. “First night celebration.”

“I'm out,” Alfie says immediately.

“I might die,” Ethan admits.

“Come on,” Troy insists. “We met these super hot girls, told them we were having a thing. We can't back out now. They’re bringing friends and everything.”

“You told them,” I correct. “But yeah, they were hot.”

Ethan perks up slightly. “How hot?”

“Pretty fucking hot.”

“I'm in.” He pauses. “After I nap. And shower. And possibly throw up again.”

Alfie sighs. “If you all die of alcohol poisoning, I'm not identifying the bodies.”

“That's the spirit!” Troy cheers, then looks around. “We're going to need to get some beer. Anyone have a fake ID?”