Page 8 of My Roommate from Hell
“Come here,” she says, pulling me into a hug. “I love you so much, Macaroni.”
She squeezes me tight. It’s a nickname I haven’t been called in years. When I was a toddler my parents called me Ownie Macaroni, eventually shortened to Macaroni. Dad still calls me Mac sometimes.
That thought makes me tear up. They’ll still be in my life, but it’ll be different now. And that’s a good thing, but that chapter of my life is over. If there was ever a true moment of closing the book on childhood, it’d be this one.
I wonder what this is like for her. She may have cracked a few jokes about how excited she is to turn my bedroom into an art studio, but I do know that Mom and Dad are going to miss me. I kind of hope they do, to be honest.
“I loveyouso much,” I say.
We hold the hug for a little longer than we need to, then we step apart.
“Call me tonight,” she says. She has tears in her eyes, and that’s making me want to cry.
“I’ll think about it.”
She glares at me. “Actually, I changed my mind, I’m not going to miss you.”
“Well, good.”
“Kidding, love you. I know you’re going to kill it here.”
“Love you, too.”
We hug again, and then she gets into the car. She’s now totally crying, and it makes something splinter in my chest. I watch as she pulls out of the parking bay, and then drives down the street. When she disappears from view, it truly hits me.
I’ve moved out.
This is my life now.
I take in the campus. If you ignore the protest going on behind me, it is truly stunning. The trees nearby are a spectacular mix of oranges and reds. Seeing Mom cry wasn’t exactly fun, but I know it’s not only because she’s sad. It’s a mix of sadness and change and ending and excitement on my behalf.
For about the millionth time, I wish Ashley were here. It would make everything better if I could go to her dorm room and freak out about what’s going on. Then I realize while I might not be able to see her in person, technology exists. And even though she hasn’t messaged me back yet, it probably means she’s distracted or left her phone somewhere. Most realistically she’s asleep because she’s a night owl, and it’s common for her to stay up all night and sleep all day.
I take my phone out of my pocket and call her, hoping that she’s awake. I know there’s almost no risk of waking her up with my call because she usually has her phone on silent, and even if it wasn’t, Ashley has the historic ability to sleep through anything.
“Finally,” she says, sounding a little annoyed. “What’s been happening?”
“I messaged you.”
“Did you? Oh, sorry, I missed the notification. That’s so funny, I’ve been waiting for you to message all morning. I thought you were mad at me or something.”
“Why would I be mad at you?”
She pauses. Even though I’ve thought about it a lot, and I’m sure she has as well, we’ve never truly talked about how we both feel about her staying at home and me leaving. It’s one of those topics that seems too dangerous to approach. For one, I feel like it would come across as incredibly selfish of me to admit how I wish she had followed through with our plan, even though I totally get why she didn’t. I also sometimes fear that she’s mad at me for still going to Point, when I could’ve gone to a college in-state like she is. Even though she’s the one who changed our plan, it feels like I’m the one who abandoned her.
“No reason, I guess,” she says. “What have you been up to?”
“I moved in. Mom just left.”
“Have you met your roommate? Is he hot?”
“We’ve met,” I say, trying to decide how to break the news. Also, yes, Zarmenus is objectively hot, but I don’t know if I want Ashley knowing I think that.
“Well? Rank him, with one being a cave troll and ten being a Greek god.”
“It’s… Zarmenus.”
“As in…theZarmenus?”
