Roommates

9.8K 167 88
                                    

Dixie's POV

When I first moved to LA, I knew no one but my little sister. And don't get me wrong—Charli is my best friend.

But when you're a 19-year-old girl and your 17-year-old sister is your only friend, you accept that you're a little lame.

I figured Charli and I would be roommates when we moved into the Hype House, but the rooms were completely filled. Thomas and Chase, Alex and Kouvr, Tayler and Griffin, Avani and Larray, Tony and Ondreaz—the list goes on.

The only person who had a room to herself was Addison.

Or as I think of her, Addison Rae—living goddess among men, the brightest star in the night sky, the ray of sunlight that peeks through the blinds on a warm summer morning.

So when Charli ditched me to bunk with Avani and Larray, I felt like a lost puppy with nowhere to turn.

Saturday morning

"Dixie, get your lanky legs OFF of my side of the mattress," Charli huffed, kicking me under the covers.

I squeezed my eyes tighter closed and rolled over, nearly falling off the bed as I moved. I hated this damn bed.

"A twin XL with my twin XL," as Charli had so fittingly put it.

I had been feeling cramped in this small room, with four teenagers packed in and a complete lack of clothing storage space.

I peeked my eyes open and glared at the mound of striped shirts pouring out of my live-in suitcase. This was so not it.

My feet hit the cold wood floor as I stood up and stretched. My other three roomies were still sleeping; one of the pros and cons of being an early riser.

I loved being up in the mornings. The peaceful quietness allowed me to clear my thoughts, but lately, it just reminded me of how lonely I was.

I pulled the drawstrings of my hoodie tight and walked into the kitchen to make iced coffee. Charli wouldn't be up for another three hours, so Dunkin just wasn't an option.

"Purple tree, plus I got this brown in me. Curly, yellow, dancing on me, said she smell the green on me," I sung quietly as I pulled the coldbrew maker from the pantry.

"And she straight from California, freaky as she wanna be," I turned to the refrigerator, lowering my cup to the ice dispenser, watching the ice loudly fall into the glass.

"Tell me she likes boys and girls, oh well, that's okay with me."

"Is it?"

I turned, quickly, the cup of ice nearly flying from my hands.

"I'm—um," I stuttered.

There she was. Softly smiling at me with sparkling brown eyes, long blonde hair draping across the island countertop and she leaned forward towards me.

The morning sun was hitting her face just right—her skin glowed a warm tan.

"Uh—yes. Yeah, it's um... it's definitely okay with me." God, Dixie, spit the words out!

I could feel the hot red burn creeping into my upper cheeks as she watched me stumble over my sentence.

She grinned at me, pearly whites peaking from under full, pink lips. Her eyes were still trained on mine.

"It must suck to be squeezed into Avani's room with Larray and Charli."

"Yeah, majorly. Charli woke me up this morning by kicking me out of the bed," I rubbed the back of my neck, my embarrassment fading.

"I would never kick you out of the bed."

I stared at her, dumb struck. No thoughts. Head empty.

"I mean, bedroom. And I have extra space in mine, you know. I'm the only member without a roommate. You could be mine."

You could be mine. You could be mine. You could be mine. The words flew through my brain at a million miles a minute.

"Okay. I'd love to."

"Great!" she smiled. "I've been wanting a roommate for a while. I'll give you the grand tour," she giggled, pulling me by the hand up the stairs to her room.

Dixison: RoommatesWhere stories live. Discover now