BULLY ROOMATE

The fresh smell of baked croissants, and brewed coffee wafted through the Highland Coffee’s shop as I stared down at my lukewarm caramel macchiato. You’d think someone basking in the scent of coffee and the sugary equivalent to crack would be happier.

Wishful thinking.

Tomorrow started my first day of college at LSU, and I was technically homeless. My roommate I’d scored through a friend of a friend bailed the morning of my arrival. Something about her older boyfriend lost his job and needed a place to crash. Hence my homeliness.

With it being too late to snag a dorm room, and me being too prideful to go back home, the only plan I’d conjured up included sleeping in the backseat of my 2000 Honda Civic in Wal-Mart’s parking lot. I could only afford a couple of nights at a cheap fleabag motel, because I hadn't landed an on-campus job yet as I planned.

Sighing, I pinched the bridge of my nose and leaned back in the cool metal seat, stretching out my legs while logging into my laptop.

I had my half of first month’s rent and my deposit in my front jean’s pocket, so unless I wanted to ride it out in the backseat of my vehicle, I had to find a roommate fast.

I scrolled through social media searching, but since the short notice, most people had landed themselves a roommate already. Frustrated, I closed the top of my laptop and screwed my eyes shut.

What am I going to do?

When I opened my eyes, a guy around my age stood in front of my table, holding a coffee with a lopsided grin and his hat on backwards.

He chuckled when I cringed. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but notice. Everything alright?”

I sighed and sat up straight, running my palms over the length of my raven colored hair. “No, not really, but you didn’t come over to hear my bad luck.”

He smirked, shifting his weight and his coffee, he pulled out the chair across from me and sat down. “I have nowhere to go. Tell me, what is the reason you’re letting that perfectly good coffee grow cold?”

His dark eyes looked kind, and he lifted a heavy brown brow as he sipped his steaming cup of Joe. I noticed his t-shirt was a 2020 LSU football shirt, which promoted me to believe he was at least a sophomore. He was shaped like a football player, with bulging forearms and a nice southern tan.

When he smiled the cleft in his chin was more prominent. What I could see of his hair was dark, maybe short on the side and longer on top.

Maybe he’ll know of someone searching for a roommate.

“Well,” I cleared my throat. “My roommate bailed on me at the last minute, it’s too late to get a dorm room and I have nowhere to live.”

“Damn, that sucks. Did she at least give you your money back?”

I nodded reluctantly.

He leaned forward and sat down his coffee. “Maybe your luck isn’t so bad?” he said. “Our third party was suspended before school started and we’re looking for another one. Cheaper rent since it’s split three ways, and it’s right across from campus.”

I bit my bottom lip, thinking about all the warnings my parents tossed at me before departing three hours before. This person looks harmless, but so did Jeffery Dahmer.

He noticed my reluctances and held up his palm. “I understand. Living with two guys you don’t know sounds scary. I’m Jordan Wells, this is my second year and I know my way around. You could at least come check it out, let someone know where you’re headed so we’re held accountable?”

Sounded logical. I nibbled more of my lip, debating on my next move. It was only one in the afternoon, but I had tons of unloading to do, and I needed to go get my books for class before they closed.

My to-do list grew with each passing email from my professors about supplies for class, and I needed a good night’s sleep before everything started.

I debated calling my mother to ask her opinion but I knew what it would be. A big fat negative. My mother being Asian American, and my dad being what people called a good ole’ countryman, I was stuck in the middle of overprotective and dad ready to shoot any boy that looked my way.

Maybe this could be my first adult decision.

“Okay, I can check it out.”

He slapped the table with his palm and stood. “Great. What’s your name by the way?”

“Josie,” I said, standing up slowly. “Thank you for this.”

“No problem. You can follow me to the apartment.”

Jordan drove an old gray pickup with huge mud tires and a lift kit. It wasn’t surprising since we live south of the Mason-Dixson line. I’d become accustomed to country guys and the norm here.

My mother on the other hand didn’t grasp the southern way of living but my dad liked that about her obviously. They’d been married for twenty-something years.

The apartment building was close to the one I’d originally planned to live in, and looked to be newer than expected. Once we parked, I got out and met him by the tail end of his truck.

“How much is the rent here?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t too much more than I expected.

Jordan walked me toward the elevator, and pressed the third level. “It’s nine-fifty a month which is about three twenty a piece. Is that much more than you planned for?”

I sighed in relief. “Actually a little cheaper. I was going to pay four hundred a month with my other roommate. It was the apartments down on Dove Creek.”

Jordan chuckled. “I know that place. It’s quieter here for sure, they have parties there every other weekend, and the landlord is gone a lot.” Jordan gave me the side eye. “Where you from?” he asked.

I clutched the handle of my suitcase. I didn’t like to talk about home much, I’d hated high school, and getting out of my parents’ house had been a long time coming. “Zachary,” I said.

The elevator dinged and I followed him down the hallway toward room 303. “Really? My other roommate is from there?”

“Is he a sophomore, too?”

He pulled out his keys, unlocked the door and let me inside. I walked into the spacious living room, definitely decorated by men and turned to face him. “Nah, it’s his first year. I bet you know him since Zachary is so small. Y’all graduated together.”

Sweat began to gather at the base of my neck. My mind raced at the thought of who it could be. Most of my class had taken it upon themselves to go out of state for college. Some to Alabama and others to Florida, there were a few that decided for LSU, but none that I could think of on the spot.

I cleared my throat when the toilet flushed, and the door behind me opened in a whoosh. “Ah, there he is. Hey Mav, I think I found us our third roommate.”

Mav ... Maverick. As in Maverick Booker.

I couldn’t turn around. My feet cemented themselves to the hardwood floor beneath my flip-flops. I stared at Jordan as he gave me a you okay look, and I stood frozen like an idiot.

Maverick Booker was not someone I wanted to live with, or be around. He’d accepted a full-ride football scholarship to Alabama and I’d been so happy to know I’d never see that jackass again.

Jordan met Maverick’s eyes over my shoulder and cringed. “Umm, this is Maverick,” he said, trying to get me to turn around.

I didn’t. I swallowed the deep clog of fear and regret in my throat.

His chuckle, even from several feet away, slid down my spine and immobilized me in my place. “You gonna turn around Lee or you gonna stand there ... like always,” his voice was deep like I remembered.

Even though I’d tried to block it out.

Like always. It was all I’d been able to do growing up, when he made my life Hell. He’d bullied me for years, and I had no idea why I’d become the object of his obsession.

Jordan shifted, weighing my reaction, and said, “So I guess y’all know each other?”

I nodded slowly, stiffening when I heard his footsteps come near and he walked around to face me. Maverick stopped in front of me, his dark green eyes zeroed in on my face and his mouth tight in a line.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and I didn’t have to look down to know what he looked like. I’d seen him shirtless many of times after football games from the safety of the bleachers with my best friend.

While she fawned over him, I hid.

He was the closest thing our small town would get to a real life Marvel character, with crisp hard lines of his abs, and the bulky dip of his oblique’s. Maverick stood tall around six three, wide shoulders and lean muscles that he’d used to push me into lockers, and pull my hair on the school bus for field trips.

This wasn’t a boyhood crush that caused him to pull my ponytail or poke my backside. His hate for me grew as the years passed, and I still had no idea why.

Maverick’s dark head of hair wasn’t styled like usual. He wore it pushed back, away from his heavy brow and sharp cheekbones.

I wanted to leave—I wanted to run for my life but his penetrating stare and the fact they both stood in my way—kept me there.

Josie Lee, still controlled by some high-school bully. I planned for it to be different this year. I’d promised myself that before I left.

It still could be. I’d never talked back to him, not since ninth grade when he waited for me to get close enough to jump from the swing and land on top of me.

This was not going to happen anymore. The next four years of my life would not mimic the last four.

I swallowed, gently pushing my hair from my shoulder. “There isn’t any like always anymore, Maverick,” I said, not recognizing my voice. I turned toward Jordan who looked uncomfortable. “This isn’t going to work out. I’m sorry.”

Gathering my nerve and my suitcase, I started toward the door, loving the way I felt by walking away with my self-worth. I made it to the cracked door to open it, when I felt his grip on my wrist.

It stung as he squeezed it tightly. I swung around to face him, meeting his eyes with as much disdain as I could muster. The side of his lip rose in a challenge that struck me deep. “You don’t want to be my roommate, Lee? You afraid?”

Jordan stood in the distance judging the conversation with a worried expression. I was sure he could stand his own with Maverick, and I didn’t think he was afraid, more like confused.

“Afraid of what?” I bit out. “You? Not anymore.” I tried to pull away but he squeezed and brought me closer to him. The scent of his masculine cologne stung my nose; stirring up feelings I hated myself for having. 

Maverick searched my face for something I didn’t understand and smirked before letting go.

“Prove it.”