Roommate's Virgin

“I’ll definitely try to fit it in,” I promised, knowing all the while that it was a false promise.

I said goodbye to Professor Parsons, and then I left the music room and headed towards the dorm buildings. Student housing had proved to be my saving grace. It was extremely affordable for students, and it also meant that I was able to move out of my mother’s tiny apartment the moment I was accepted into Columbia University.

I loved my mother, and I had the utmost respect for her, but her lifestyle was not one that I fit into very well. It was funny sometimes how one person could have such disparate aspects to their personality. My mother, who was the most responsible, serious, tempered and mature woman I knew when it came to raising her kids, was also the most gullible when it came to love.

She fell easily for the lines that men fed her and she wore her heart on her sleeve. This was all due to the fact that she was a hopeless romantic and she longed desperately for the kind of epic love that people read about in great novels. Only, that kind of love had evaded her for her entire life. And yet, she still kept trying which basically meant a revolving door of men, some of who appeared for a few nights and then disappeared suddenly, without warning and others that lived with her for a few months before some turbulent fight ended the relationship once and for all.

I had spent my teenage years seeing this happen time and time again and so by the time college came around, I was determined to move out. Seth was eight years older than I was and so he had left the nest a while ago. If Seth hadn’t always lived close by and made an attempt to see mom and me all the time I might have felt like an only child.

I had assumed that moving out of mom’s place would solve all my problems. It would give me a clean slate and the opportunity to leave behind all the drama. Except that I wasn’t nearly that lucky. Every year without fail, I had managed to get a roommate who was either inconsiderate or plain crazy. My first roommate was basically a younger, wilder version of my mother. I would walk into our dorm to find a different man in her bed each night.

My second roommate was an ambitious cellist, and she had me up most nights with her incessant practicing. My third roommate was just plain hostile, and I had no idea why. I spent most of my junior year trying to avoid going back to my apartment. I had hoped that my string of bad luck would give me a break for my final year, but of course, I was sorely mistaken.

Enter Sandra… she was beautiful, outgoing and charismatic. Which was why most nights our apartment was filled with people laughing, drinking and doing drugs. We had been roommates for only a couple months now, but I was already feeling like she was the worst of the lot. Especially because dorm room parties were strictly prohibited and I was terrified that if Sandra went down, she would take me down with her.

I walked to my dorm room in a fog of contemplation. What would I do after I had graduated? I didn’t want to move back in with mom. I couldn’t move in with Seth. He had just moved in with Cory and anyway he was a firefighter who was struggling to make ends meet himself. He didn’t need his little sister crashing on his couch. Plus I had a feeling I would offend mom if I chose to stay with Seth as opposed to her.

So that meant I needed to find an apartment of my own… and the only way I could afford that was to live with a roommate. Except my luck with roommates was so bad that it actually drove my pressure up thinking about a permanent living situation with a total stranger. As I approached my room, I heard the music and sighed in frustration. Of course Sandra was having yet another party… and it was driving me crazy.

I didn’t even bother with my key. I knew the door would be open. I almost walked into someone who was standing right by the entrance.

“Sorry,” I said.

The guy I had bumped into turned to me with foggy unfocused eyes. He looked me up and down shamelessly and gave me a seedy smile. “What’s your name?”

“Uh… Zoey.”

“You the roommate?” he asked.

“I am,” I said, resisting the urge to add ‘unfortunately.’

“Damn girl, you are fine,” he said, looking me over once more. “I’ve always had a thing for blonds.”

“Excuse me,” I said, trying to side-step him. “I need to get to my room.”

“Want some company?” he asked, with another creepy smile.

“I really, really don’t,” I said, walking around him.

I spotted Sandra on the sofa with her hands and legs draped over a huge guy with tattoos running up and down his arms. His head was shaved, and I saw a tattoo on the side of his head. He didn’t look like any student who went here, and I felt an instant spasm of worry. I coughed as the stench of marijuana crackled through the air.

“Sandra,” I said, stomping over to her.

“Oh, hi, roomie,” Sandra said as a puff of smoke wafted from her mouth. She gave me a dreamy smile, and I knew she was high… probably too high to talk to but I tried anyway.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Urgh… you have that face,” she said.

I frowned. “What face?”

“That face that tells me that you’re going to be a killjoy.”

I gritted my teeth together. “This is the third party you’ve had this week,” I reminded her. “I don’t think I need to remind you that parties are prohibited in the dorm rooms.”

“This is not a party,” Sandra replied. “This is just a… gathering.”

“Yeah, cutie,” said the guy running his hand up and down Sandra’s thigh. “You need to chill… want a smoke?”