Page 3

Chapter

Three

My alarm went off at nine, the noise drilling into my skull. Ugh. Tuesdays were supposed to be my day off from class, but there was no rest for the wicked, aka the string section in Select Orchestra.

Rolling out of bed, I stumbled to the washroom, avoiding my reflection in the mirror. By the way my eyes seemed to be shrivelling up like raisins, I was well aware I looked like a hot mess. After brushing my teeth and splashing some cold water on my face in a feeble attempt to shock myself awake, I padded out to the living room.

Logan was already gone, off to the gym for his daily dose of lactic acid production before hockey practice later that afternoon. The townhouse was quiet, and this was when I loved it least. Modern grey furniture and abstract art on the walls, all selected by Logan’s dad. It felt about as welcoming as a dentist's waiting room.

I plopped down on the cold leather couch with a sigh. The harsh reality had sunk in after talking more with Logan last night. With him leaving, I would be stuck here alone with Rob for two months. Rob, who hated me for stealing his friend. Rob, who excreted disdain from his pores. Rob, who would probably murder me in my sleep if he could get away with it.

Fantastic.

I had to find another option. I could look in the school paper, but it wasn’t likely I’d find a seasonal living opportunity. Lily, Caleb, and any orchestra people I knew weren’t options. Caleb lived at home, and Lily was in a shared room off campus. I would just have to brainstorm with Crystal and Maddie when we met up for coffee in a half hour.

I started a load of laundry, then threw on jeans and a hoodie and headed out. The ten-minute walk to the campus coffee shop seemed to take an eternity, my mind reeling with worst-case Rob scenarios. He’d start hosting parties instead of going out every night. He’d hang his jock strap on the stools in the kitchen. I shuddered.

Crystal and Maddie were already at our usual corner table when I arrived, steaming lattes in hand. I collapsed into the empty chair with a groan, and Maddie passed me my cup.

"Thank you.” I blew out a breath. “I'm so screwed.” I’d called them both multiple times since I’d seen Logan’s letter, so they were well-versed in my current level of hopelessness.

Crystal grimaced, her pink hair almost neon under the fluorescent lights. "I talked with Lindsey. We don’t have anyone moving out at the semester. There aren’t any openings in the fourplex across from us either."

Maddie squeezed my hand. Her fingers were warm from her coffee cup. "I mean, I'd be down to share my bed with you for a couple of months, Shar. Mi casa es su casa and all that."

“Your roommates would be okay with that?”

Her curls bounced as she shrugged. “I have my own room. As long as you cleaned up after yourself, they wouldn’t bitch about it.”

I bit my lip, considering it. Her room was small, but I could probably get a twin mattress in there. Make a cot on the floor.

But Maddie's place was so far from campus. At least a twenty-minute drive by car, which I didn’t have. It would make getting to rehearsals and shows a nightmare since the bus ride would be almost double that.

I glanced up at Crystal, who was staring at her coffee cup. “What?”

She flinched, her eyes widening. “Hmm? Oh, nothing.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Just say it.” Crystal was doing a new thing where she tried not to blurt out the first thing that came to her mind. After her last relationship ended because she told her boyfriend Matt he “just acted a little feminine sometimes,” she’d decided it was time to nurture a filter.

“Uh.” She took a drink of her coffee. I waited, not letting her wriggle out of this. “I was just thinking that . . . “ She tapped her fingers on the cup.

I exhaled. “Crystal?—”

“Fine, I think you’re being a baby.” I blinked, and she backpedalled. “Not a baby like this doesn’t suck, but just—you know. There are a lot of students here that don’t have a brand new townhouse to live in with a private washroom.”

I pursed my lips. “Yeah. Okay. That’s fair.”

Crystal glanced at Maddie, then back at me. “I know it’s not what you want to hear.”

It definitely wasn’t. But it didn’t mean she was wrong. “So I need to get over it.”

Maddie winced. “Maybe? It’s two months.”

“You’ll be home with your family for part of it, right?” Crystal offered.

I drew a deep breath and exhaled. Yes. They were right. I had a great place to live, and I didn’t even have to be there that often. “I could spend more time on campus.”

“There you go, girl.” Maddie leaned back in her chair and took a sip from her cup.

“And maybe . . .” Crystal gave me a look.

“Maybe what?” I braced myself.

She leaned forward, wrapping both hands around her cardboard cozy. “I know you and Rob have this thing?—”

“A thing?” I scowled.

“Where you bicker and try to get under each other’s skin.”

I scoffed. “I don’t try. Rob is the one who goes on the offensive. I try to ignore him most of the time.”

Crystal waved a hand. “Whatever, all I’m saying is, Rob isn’t, like, scary or anything. He’s an asshole sometimes, but he’s also funny and?—”

“Funny?” I reacted like she’d just said Rob was a patron saint. “He’s not funny. He thinks he’s funny. He thinks he’s God’s gift to?—”

“Okay, forget I said anything. I only meant that you wouldn’t need to be . . . you know. Worried.”

I took off the lid of my coffee cup and tested the temperature with my pinky finger, then took a drink. “Yeah.” Surprisingly, I hadn’t even thought about that. About being in a townhouse alone with a guy who wasn’t my boyfriend in general.

I didn’t trust men, but Crystal was right. Rob was a dick, but he didn’t make me feel unsafe. At least not physically. No, unsafe wasn’t the right word at all. He made me feel on edge. Like I needed a shield up. But why? Plenty of other people in the world didn’t like me. Plenty who pressed my buttons. So why did I go from zero to a hundred when it was him getting in the digs?

I forced a smile. "Enough about my dramatic descent into roommate anxiety hell. What's new with you guys?"

Crystal groaned, slouching back in her chair. "Don't even get me started. This music theory class is kicking my ass. I swear, Professor Gant is out to get me."

Maddie patted her arm sympathetically. "Aww. He probably is.”

Crystal laughed and slapped her hand away. Maddie and Crystal were like yin and yang—complete opposites. Crystal was full artist, and Maddie was straight math and science. I was the hybrid brain that bridged the gap.

We'd all met in a required sociology class our first year and bonded over our mutual hatred for the professor's monotone lectures. Now, two years later, they were my besties. The Thelma and Louise to my . . . Well, whoever the third wheel in that movie would've been. The dog? Brad Pitt? Probably the dog.

We chatted for a while longer before they both had to get to class. I walked back home and trudged up the stairs to the house, feeling oddly naked without my violin case. As I fumbled with my keys, I heard the Counting Crows filtering through the door. My heart leaped. Logan was home.

I pushed open the door and there he was, sprawled out on the couch in his post-workout glory. His blond hair was still damp from the shower, and he had a binder and textbook both opened in front of him on the coffee table. He grinned up at me. "Hey, babe. Where were you?"

I slipped off my shoes and raced to him, hopping onto his lap. “With Crystal and Maddie.”

Logan wrapped his arms around my waist. "I missed you."

I hesitated for a moment, glancing around the house. "Where's Rob?"

"At class. That or he isn’t up yet.”

Probably the latter. I kissed him again, but even that couldn't shake the strange shifting in my gut. "Logan, I need to talk to you about something." I pulled back to look at him. "I don’t love this. The fact that you’re leaving. That I have to live here with Rob."

Logan frowned. "What do you mean? Rob's a good guy, Shar. He won't bother you."

I shook my head, frustration bubbling up inside me. "That's not the point. He—” He hates me. He tried to get you to break up with me. “He’s negative and grumpy. All the time. Logan. Without you here?—"

Logan ran a hand through my hair. "You think he’s negative?”

I gaped at him. “Yeah. On Sunday, he greeted us with ‘Morning, shitheads.’”

Logan laughed. “That’s just Rob.”

Kind of my point, but I kept my mouth shut. Logan just didn't get it. He didn't understand how it felt to be constantly on edge, to feel like you were walking on eggshells in your own home.

"What if we came up with some ground rules?" Logan nudged my chin so he could drop his head into the hollow of my neck. "Like, no parties at the house, no bringing random people over. No telling you you’re a shithead."

I laughed. “I doubt he’ll go for that.”

Logan lay back on the couch, pulling me with him. “Rule number four: no coming home wasted.” He reached his hands up the back of my shirt. “Number five: no farting in public spaces.”

I snorted. “Where were these rules when we moved in together?” Logan feigned offence, and I jabbed my fingers into his ribs. “Rule number six: no leaving the seat up. Number seven: must be fully clothed.”

Logan gripped my wrists. “You don’t want to see me naked?”

I grunted, trying to twist away from him and failing. “No, I don’t want to see Rob. He’s always walking around with his shirt off.”

Logan’s hands relaxed a little, his face becoming more serious. “That bothers you?”

I grinned. “No, not bothers. It’s just—he could put a shirt on.”

Logan pushed up to lean against the arm of the couch. I sat up, straddling him.

He ran a hand through his now barely damp hair. “Do you notice other guys like that?”

I rolled my eyes. “Logan?—”

“No, I’m serious. Rob isn’t unattractive.”

I raised an eyebrow, trying to disguise the hammering of my heart. “And how would you know that?”

“Because.” He gave me a look that said, isn’t it obvious? No. No, it was not obvious, and I was suddenly itching for him to make his case.

I swallowed hard. “Logan, I don’t look at other guys like that. Do you look at other girls?”

He scoffed. “That’s different.”

My eyes widened. “Different?”

He realized his misstep, his throat working. “No, I just mean, women are beautiful. Works of art. Guys are . . .” He exhaled in a rush. “Never mind. I’ll just tell Rob to put on a shirt.”

The simmering in my gut had grown to a full, uncomfortable boil. “Great. Thanks.” I shifted off him, giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Where are you going?”

I rounded the end of the table and planted my hands on my hips. “I need to get in some practice. Before rehearsal.”

Logan stood, adjusting his shirt. “This weekend. Me and you? Before I head out?”

I nodded, exhaling with relief. It was fine. This was just a weird moment because we were both stressed about being apart for the next couple of months.

But I was happy for him. I wanted this for him, and it was another step toward the life we wanted to create together.

I stepped forward, looping my arms around his waist. “Yeah. I’d love that.”