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Yes, this is truly the very last chapter of Roommates with a Player. I can’t believe I did it! I finished my very first story! Now, I want each and every one of you guys to comment and tell me your honest feedback about the whole story. I need to know what you thought!

There will be NO sequel to Roommates with a Player. There may be some one-shots when I have time, but it's finished. Look forward to my new work, "The Girls in Room 409"!


“For Emma, forever ago,” – Bon Iver, For Emma

Four years later…

            “What do you think about this one?” I asked to him, holding up a magazine cutout of a fancy loft. “It’s on the Upper East side. Isn’t that where you want to live?”

            But Ricky was too busy with his hair to answer me. We were both sitting at our dining room table; dozens of Luxury Homes magazines and newspapers strewn about the surface, making it seem very cluttered. Ricky had grabbed my mirror from my purse and was examining a spot on his head.

            “What are you doing now?” I exhaled, dropping the article I had back onto the table.

            “Emma,” he looked up, his face very serious. “I think I’m balding.”

            I couldn’t help but giggle. “Trust me, Ricky. You’re not balding.”

            He lowered the mirror back into my purse and jutted out his lower lip, an expression of worry painting his face.

            For four years, it’d been like this; just the two of us, living in his now-filled loft in the city. I loved it. We visited Henry and Michelle for holidays and I got to finish college nearby. I never went back to dreary Florida and soon, Aunt Joyce’s postcards started to return. I think she kind of figured it was better to just let me go.

            I currently worked part-time as bookstore clerk a few blocks away, and Ricky was climbing the ladder in business, though I didn’t really bother to ask much about the details, because then he started talking in numbers, which immediately confused me. I was never any good at math.

            Charlie was in high school, reliving Ricky’s dreams…or rather, nightmares. Henry and Michelle were still thick as thieves and had accepted Ricky and I like it was just your regular relationship, even though it wasn’t. Riley said she’d “known it the whole time”, but I could see through her lies. She was just as shocked as I was with it.

            James knew it was coming. And he’d moved on accordingly. He was currently dated his ex-girl friend from years past, Tiffany. I’d never met her, but she seemed like a great gal. He and her were living somewhere in California, though I couldn’t tell you where. James didn’t keep up much contact with me, only with Ricky. I didn’t mind, though. I’d been making new friends of my own at the bookstore.

            Hailey and Maggie were still living in town and visited frequently. They insisted on being called the ones who’d “gotten us together”, and told Ricky and me every chance they got. Even though it was sort of true, I didn’t like admitting it to them.

            As for Nathan, he was now residing a few markers away from my parents, and he slept peacefully, smelling the flowers I brought him every other week and listening to me talk about my petty problems and the new joys in life. His funeral had been one of relief, not just for me, but also for his family. Mrs. Cross had been put into a senior home because her condition only seemed to worsen, and Mr. Cross and I would sometimes run into each other at the cemetery. We would talk briefly on how life was going, and then we would reminisce on memories we had with Nate. Sometimes, Nathan came to visit me in my dreams. Letting go of my best friend hadn’t been as hard as I’d thought, and time had mended most of my wounds.

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