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My Roommate is a Boy Novel Cover

My Roommate is a Boy

River Wilson has her entire life planned: earn top grades, avoid distractions, and graduate as valedictorian. Love? Boys? Drama? Not on the schedule. But her perfect plan unravels the moment she steps into her new university apartment... and finds Taylor DeLuca shirtless, tattooed, and infuriatingly smug, standing in her kitchen. Thanks to a university housing glitch and a name too ambiguous to question, River ends up living with the one thing she promised to avoid: a boy who looks like trouble and acts like he invented it. Now she's armed with a list of house rules, a schedule tighter than her ponytail, and one unbreakable boundary: no flirting. But Taylor has a smirk that makes her forget her rules... and a past that's more complicated than his cocky charm lets on. What happens when the girl who has everything under control is forced to live with the boy who thrives on chaos? Let's just say... Rule Number Eight is about to get broken.
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Chapter 9

RIVER

The day is finally over, and I have never been so eager in my life to curl up in my bed and think about how to take control of my life once again. All through high school, I had been a loner who did not care what people thought of me, and Lana knew this, so I wonder why she thought it was a good idea for her to try and act friendly all through the day. I had barely gotten a moment of peace without them hanging over my head and chatting loudly.

Lana's insistence on us talking to other boys in the department with hopes that someone would be living close by and would be willing to drive me to and from school was sweet, but I saw it more as a burden. I could hike up the hill, catch a bus, and be in school before any of them. I have worked on a tight schedule once in my life, and I am sure I can work on one now. How hard could it be?

"There is a faculty welcome party for all freshers," Elise said happily. From the moment I saw her, I knew she would be the kind of girl who would like parties, and she had just proven me right.

"I won't be going," I say before she can suggest that we stay together and dress up to show up at the party, get drinks, and get so wasted that we won't be able to get to class tomorrow"

"Why?" she asked, almost hurt that I had turned down her offer.

"Partying on a school night? I must decline." She looks at me as if I had spoken in the most foreign language she had ever heard. "I want to start reading so I can be ahead of the class," I add, wanting to make sure that my stance in school is clear to her. I am not here to party but to read, become a pharmacist, and graduate as the best student in my year.

"But the party isn't on a school night; it's this weekend," she replies, and I almost feel stupid. "You can't come if it's on a weekend?" She adds, and I bite the inside of my lips.

"I can't." I shake my head, not allowing her expressions and emotions to get to me. She doesn't need me at the party to survive, and they can both get by without me there.

"Why not? It would be fun, and I heard that we get to meet our seniors at the party; we can ask them questions too," she replies, with Lana standing beside her, eager eyes practically pleading with me to come along with them.

I get to meet seniors? Would a party be a good time to meet them? Maybe I can find a tutor who would be willing to put me through and make sure I understand all I need to.

"Are you sure I get to meet the seniors?" I ask, and she realises that was all I needed to hear.

"A hundred percent, so why don't you just come?" Lana jumps in at once.

"Okay, good. Then we will meet at your place since you stay off campus, and we can go from there," Elise chimes in once she sees how I am already agreeing to their terms.

"My place?" I ask with terror in my eyes. I don't know if I am ready to let anyone else besides myself know that I have a boy for a roommate.

"Yes, can we not?"

"Well, my roommate is really strict about things like this, so I am not sure she would appreciate the company." I lie and realise that what people say is always true. Once you start lying, there is no turning back. All you do is fall even further the more you try to make it out. Just like a sinkhole.

"Huh! What year is she?" Elise asked, wanting to know more about her. I knew I had to shut it up before it became a topic for discussion.

"Third year," I say, and before she can comment further, I turn the topic around. "Since we would be meeting the seniors, do you think I can put my notes into a file and have them look at it?" I ask, and she stares at me as if I had drawings on my face.

"What do you mean?"

"I am asking if it is possible for me to have my list..."

"Oh my goodness! You are such a nerd, and trust me, I mean this in the best way ever." Elise turned to Lana with a smile. "You were so right; she is cute."

"I am not offended you called me a nerd," I clarify, because to me, the best thing ever is to be knowledgeable about the things that matter to you, and this matters a lot to me.

"I did not mean it as an offence; it is supposed to be a compliment," Lana explains, almost as if I did not get it the first time. I nod, and she smiles.

Before long, it is time to go home, and I get home quite exhausted. I am beginning to rethink my decision to stay at this house for the next four years. How can I hike all morning and evening? Maybe I might take the girls' advice and get an electric scooter or a bike to help aid my transportation.

As soon as the door opens, I am faced with an intense smell of pasta and some spices. I look over at the kitchen and see Taylor standing there, shirtless, with an apron tied around his waist.

"Sweetheart, you are back." He is chirpy, but he still has a smirk on his face.

I am too tired to tell him not to call me that, so I let it slide for tonight. The smell of the meal fills the entire room, and I realise how hungry I am.

"Go wash up and come out for dinner," he announces, almost like a mom. The feeling is strange. I had seen moms do this in movies, but I had never experienced it myself. Growing up without a mom had been hard, hard, but I had never told anyone about it before. When I was still a child, Dad always had a babysitter over; she would make meals, which were usually microwaved leftovers from the previous day or from lunches my aunt brought for me.

Once I became a teenager, the duty of lunch and dinner fell on me. I did it with you because I really did not have any other choice, but hearing someone wanting to make sure I had a meal without even knowing me warmed my heart.

"What are you thinking?" He snapped his fingers in my face, and it was only then I realised how close I had gotten. "Are you going to eat or not?"

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