Begin Again (Again #1)(3)

Something like shock flashed through his warm, brown eyes; it didn’t fit with his cold aura. “See if I can’t.” Now he crossed his arms.

“Well, you can’t. We emailed, dammit! You invited me to check out the apartment, so I should at least be able to see the room and have the chance to convince you that I’d be a good roommate.” I tried not to snarl.

“Like I said, there’s been a misunderstanding. I thought you were a dude. But you’re definitely not.” He gave me another dismissive once-over. “I’m looking for a male roommate. Not a female.” He practically spat out the word.

By now, my rage was about to boil over. The other apartment viewings had been bad, but this one took the cake.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through the last two days?” I spat, and my pulse skyrocketed. “In one place, a guy was sitting in his kitchen in his underwear—his UNDERWEAR—and asked me my bra size. In three apartments, I was told that sexual favors were part of the rent; in another I was told I’d have to be the nanny; and twice I could barely keep my potential roommates from going at it right in front of me!” By now I was almost yelling, but it didn’t occur to me to lower my voice. The avalanche was flowing full-force at this point. “I saw rooms with walls covered in black mold. I was in apartments so crammed with trash that you couldn’t even see the floor. Sometimes I couldn’t even tell if I was standing on a carpet or a pile of flattened pizza boxes. I was in apartments that smelled so much like pot that I could have gotten high just from breathing the air.” I took another step toward him and drew back my shoulders. “Things have gotten off to a shitty start for me in Woodshill, dude. So don’t tell me to just disappear. I want to see the damned room!”

The mistrust on his face had faded into general indifference, as if I were using up his precious time.

“And this is exactly why I don’t want a woman in here,” he said calmly. “I don’t need the endless whining and girly emotional stuff.”

Now adrenaline propelled me with such force that my shoulders shook. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to dump my problems on this guy. But sometimes I just couldn’t stop until I got it all out.

“Are you done, or do I have to take any more of this? If the answer is yes, then I’d like to dress for the occasion,” he continued in a flat voice. His indifference only spurred me on.

“Fine,” I hissed, turning my back. Walking out, I could hear a phone ringing: the ringtone was a song by the group Fall Out Boy. Wow, the jerk actually had good taste in music.

Tears burned in my eyes as I faced the door. I didn’t want to go back to Lincoln, back to a life that was so fake and scripted.

My entire personality had been a fa?ade that my mother had manipulated according to her wishes. I’d only realized it about three years ago—when I learned just how far she was willing to go. That day my trust in her was shattered into a thousand pieces. I’d thought my mom would always protect me. But instead she’d just heaped more and more lies on me, until I could barely stand under their weight. After that, nothing was ever the same.

I swallowed hard and tried to banish the negative thoughts.

By now my hands were shaking with frustration. I overheard the jerk’s muffled voice as he chatted with someone on the phone. A few second later he cursed loudly.

Again I heard his naked feet flapping on the floor, as he came to the hallway.

“Hey,” his voice rang out behind me. I turned to face him.

“What?” I barked, glaring at him.

He had put on a tight navy blue shirt that stretched over his torso. Folding his arms over his chest, he frowned at me. “My other potential roommate just jumped ship,” he said, showing me the smartphone in his hand.

“And?” I said, unconcerned, digging into my bag for my car key.

He sighed and tapped his foot so long on the floor that I had no choice but to lift my eyes.

“There will be rules,” he started after a moment’s hesitation, narrowing his eyes.

“Rules? For what, if I may ask?” I couldn’t take any more of this. I was ready to go back to the hostel and immerse myself in self-pity until I had recovered enough to look for new ads. I could really do without the drivel of unfriendly shitheads.

“For you. If you want the room, there will be rules you have to stick to.” He moved his arm in a way that looked like an invitation, and turned back toward the living room. As if I would follow, just like that.

“I don’t want your fucking room!” I shouted after him.

He poked his head out the door again and drew his hand through his hair. “Listen, I need the money, and I’m sick of showing the place. People keep bailing on me.”

“I wonder why.” I retorted.

He ignored me. “And you need somewhere to stay. So stop complaining and check out the room.”

I opened my mouth to reply but the jerk was already in the living room, not bothering to wait for my response.

What I really wanted was to storm out and slam the door in his face. But instead I paused.

To be honest, this hallway alone was nicer than all the apartments I’d seen—and I’d prefer to begin the semester here than on a park bench. It couldn’t hurt to take a look.

“All right.” I stepped into the living room. Now that I’d calmed down, I could see how nicely things were arranged.