Page 128 of My Roommate from Hell
Ashley’s advice has never steered me wrong in the past. But with this, I’m still not sure.
It’s too risky. As much as I’ve changed since coming here, I’m never going to be someone who takes that big of a swing.
It’s just not who I am.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
It’s just now hitting me that my first semester, the schoolwork part of it, at least, is over.
I’ve just left the exam room for my final exam. Given that this exam took place at fourP.M.on a Friday, this is the final exam for a lot of people, and everyone around me is acting like it. There’s this palpable sense of end-of-semester relief in the air, as all the pressure fades away and people get excited about their plans for the break. I’ll be slightly anxious until I get my grades back, as is typical for me, but at least it’s out of my hands now.
I get a message from Tyrell.
SO READY TO DRINK TONIGHT!!!
I assume he’s referring to a Gaymers house party we’ll both be going to. Tomorrow night is the Heaven and Hell dance, where Zarmenus and I are going to break up. The day after that, I’m getting on a plane to go back home for the break.
I’m not sure if I want to see Zarmenus waiting for me outside the hall or not. He’s showed up outside a few of my exam halls, matchas in hand, only missing when he’s had an exam of his own. In those cases I waited for him, often with a pastry I bought along the way that I thought he would like.
Even if we weren’t fake dating, I would’ve done those things, because of how much I love the smile he gives me when he sees me.
I wish that I could simply enjoy seeing him. That would be nice. But just the thought of it reminds me that we’re breaking up tomorrow, and going our separate ways after that. I’m going home, and he’s going back to Hell.
I’m assuming we’ll stay in contact, but it’ll be different. We won’t have the fake relationship keeping us together, like a string wrapped around our wrists. He’ll have no reason to message me, and I won’t have any to message him.
It won’t be the same, in any case. And I already miss what we have right now.
I pass through the doors, and spot him leaning against the wall, drinks in his hands. He notices me and gives me a huge smile. Before I can stop myself, I feel a massive rush of affection, making me practically giddy. What’s wrong with me? I shouldn’t like him this much. It’s a huge mistake and it’ll only end with me being hurt.
I don’t feel ready to speak to him, but I still approach.
“How’d it go?” he asks as he gives me the matcha.
“Good, I think,” I say. I take the cup from him. Our fingers brush, and sparks shoot up my arms. “Thanks.”
“I’m sure you crushed it.”
I cross my fingers, then take a sip. It’s as good as ever. Will I even drink these once he leaves? Or will the memory be too painful? I do know that for the rest of my life I will associate matchas with Zarmenus.
By the time we get back to our dorm, the ache is so bad that I can’t think about anything else. I can’t think of any way to change it. Ashley was wrong, telling him how I’m feeling won’t change a single thing. He’s still going back to Hell. We’ve run out of time.
It is what it is.
“So, about tomorrow,” he says.
Hope takes flight in my chest. Is he about to tell me he wants to do something different? Is this really happening?
“We should go through what we’re going to say,” he says. “So it’s believable.”
I’m not exactly experienced when it comes to breaking up with people, but I don’t think rehearsing will make it seem more believable. I’m sure there are instances where both parties are well and truly over it by the time a breakup happens, ones where they know that the time to split has come and gone. Then there are the real horror shows, where one party ends things with someone who is still fully invested and didn’t see it coming.
Is that what we’re going to go for?
The more I think about it, the more I think it’s a good idea to practice. A lot is hanging on this breakup going smoothly.
“Do you want to break up with me, or do you want me to break up with you?” he asks.
“It should be mutual,” I say, remembering back to the plan I wrote what feels like a lifetime ago. “Neither of us can be the bad guy. Leeke won’t like it if you come across like you did me wrong, and I can’t make it seem like I broke up with you because there’s something wrong with you.”
