Chapter 27
I spend the next few days at the local hotel. The first thing I do is call the swim coach and let him know I won't be there for practice the next few days. He doesn't press for an explanation, but I can hear the disappointment in his tone.
After a beat of silence, I explain that I'm looking for a place to stay. He's quiet for a moment and then tells me if I need anything to call. Guilt knots around my intestines when I assure him I'll be back by Thursday at the very latest.
After that phone call, I turn my phone off.
And keep it off.
I know I could make it to practice if I really tried. But the thought of seeing Bennett or dealing with any of the other drama surrounding my life sounds unbearable. Instead I spend my time sleeping and wallowing in my own self-pity.
Productive, I know.
On Tuesday night, I force myself to start looking for one-bedroom apartments. Of course, there's nothing available. I know if I call my parents and ask them to deposit more money into my bank account they will, but that will inevitably raise questions – questions I'd rather not discuss with my folks.
I need to find something in the same price range as rent at Roland's apartment. That pang of loneliness hallows out my stomach thinking about my best friend. I haven't spoken with him in days and yet it feels like years. A piece of me wanted to be at his doorstep the night I left Bennett's apartment. But I couldn't bring myself to do it.
By the time Wednesday rolls around, I start getting desperate. I pull out my laptop and search through the local ads to see if anyone is looking for a roommate. After an hour of searching I find one that is in my price range and close to campus.
With a heavy sigh I pick up the hotel phone and dial the contact number. It rings three times before a feminine voice radiates against my eardrum.
"Hello?"
I check the ad again, making sure I called the right number. The contact name associated with the number is Jordan, and I frown while cradling the phone against my shoulder.
"Ah, hey. Is this Jordan?"
"Yes, speaking."
Huh, Jordan is a female. Interesting.
"Yea, this is Trey. I saw your ad in the paper that you're looking for a roommate..."
"Oh great. Mind telling me a bit about yourself?"
I lean back in the hotel office chair, prattling off the normal facts – my name, age, college student, member of the swim team.
"You're a part of the men's swim team?"
"Yea."
I'm not sure what I expect in response. Maybe for her try and flirt or hit on me in some fashion. But she does neither.
"Ah. Well, I guess that'll take some getting used to."
I raise my brow in surprise. Take some getting used to? What's that supposed to mean? After a moment of silence, Jordan picks up the conversation.
"So anyway, as you saw in the ad, it's a three-bedroom townhouse. Right now it's just me here, but I've got another Engineering student moving in at the end of summer."
"Cool."
"The rent on that ad includes all utilities except for internet and cable. That's an extra thirty-five bucks a month if you want it."
"Yea, that's fine."
"Alright. Do you want to set up a time to meet and take a tour?"
I scratch at the back of my neck. "I mean, yea. That's fine. But how soon could I move in?"
There's silence on the other end. Coming from a man, it probably sounds overbearing, so I cut into the silence to better explain myself.
"I moved out of my last place over the weekend. I'm desperate."
"Well that wasn't a smart move – to wait last minute to find a place."
I grin at her scolding tone. It reminds me of something Roland might say.
"I wasn't planning on moving out," I reply, defending myself.
"Oh?"
I glance up at the ceiling, mulling over my words. "Due to an unforeseen conflict of interests, I left a bit sooner."
"Ah." A beat of silence.
I lean forward and run my hand through my hair. Maybe I shouldn't have said that bit about me being desperate. Sure, it's the truth, but this chick doesn't know me. This isn't me asking someone out for drinks. This is asking to live with someone. I probably should have approached it more delicately.
"Truth be told, the sooner the better," Jordan finally answers with a defeated sigh. "I'm hurting a bit financially having to cover all the bills on my own. So I'll make you a deal. If you come over and I assess you're not a complete psycho...you won't have to pay for that hotel room another night."
I can't shake the grin spreading across my lips. "You free now?"
Jordan sighs on the other end. "Guess so."
I smirk and start grabbing for my keys. "Cool. I'll see you in ten."
"See ya."
_______________
My car rolls into the townhouse parking lot exactly 25 minutes after my phone call ended with Jordan. I decided to shower first, considering I haven't since the first night I arrived at the hotel. Yea, yea, yea, I know. Disgusting on all levels. I'm aware.
I give my appearance a quick onceover in the rearview mirror and hoist myself out of the car. The drapes in the front hall are cracked open, but the person staring out snaps them closed when I lock the car and begin walking towards the front door.
The grass is slightly yellowed on the front lawn, and there are two folding chairs on the front porch. In between them sits a small, circular table with an ashtray sitting in the middle of its glass surface. I peer inside of it and expect to see either cigarettes or at least a few smear of cigarette leftovers. But it's perfectly clean. In fact, it's so clean that the price tag is still on it.
I frown and slowly turn my head towards the front door. It opens before I have a chance to knock. A mousy brunette stands at its threshold. She's a good foot shorter than me, slender, and adorably plain. Oversized glasses are tucked into the breast pocket of the oversized man's shirt covering her torso and reaching close to her knees. Beneath it is a pair of dark blue skinny jeans.
She squints up at me and wipes away her wispy bangs before extending a hand in my direction.
"Trey?" she asks.
"Yea. Jordan?"
She nods and I grin before accepting her hand in introduction. My palm engulfs her feminine hand, and the sweatiness of it belies her calm expression. I pump it twice before our hands break away. She doesn't ask me to come inside. Instead her small stature blocks the door way as she scrutinizes me behind hazel eyes.
I stuff my hands in my pockets and rock my weight from my heels to the balls of my feet. Then my eyes sweep over the porch again.
"What's with the ash tray?" I ask.
Jordan pops her head out and glances at the object in question. Then her shoulders sag slightly.
"Oh, that," she mutters. "My mom was a huge partier in college. When she dropped me off at school, she insisted I have one for when I hosted parties."
I raise a brow, and her expression deadpans.
"As you can see, I'm quite the party hostess."
She backs away from the front door, leaving it open for me to follow behind her. I laugh under my breath at her sarcasm and step inside. My eyes sweep across the interior of the living room. A simple couch is pressed against the far wall and is facing a moderately sized TV.
No gaming equipment, I note. Looks like I'll have to make a stop to the storage shed. I never had to when I was living with Bennett. The dude had everything I needed. To game, I mean. My jaw tightens at the sudden thought of him.
"So," I say. "Want to give me the tour?"
Jordan nods, unaware of my internal thoughts, and begins showing me around the townhouse. It's bigger on the inside than I thought it would be. The walls are plain and the rooms are lightly furnished, but it's better than a hotel. Far better.
When the two of us end up back in the kitchen, Jordan shrugs and leans against the counter.
"Kitchen has an electric stove, but I can't attest to how well it works. I really only use the microwave."
"Ah, a woman after my own heart," I respond wryly.
Jordan narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. "I think now would be a good time to formally say that I don't date my roommates."
My lips twitch with amusement. Just minutes ago I thought this woman had no backbone or self-confidence, and yet now she has the nerve to misconstrue a sarcastic comment as flirting. When I realize she's not kidding, I snort out a laugh and shake my head.
"Noted," I say.
She glares in my direction and studies my expression. Then her eyebrows form a stubborn line.
"One of the downsides of a going to a private college is that that stupid, 'popular and unpopular' clique-type statuses still run rampant. And I'm sure you're already aware, but the men's swim team is pretty much the automatic 'popular' crowd as far as social circles are concerned."
This time it's me frowning. I knew I was the popular guy in high school, but since I've come to college I haven't really taken the time to notice. I haven't taken the time to care, either.
"And since you're one of them, I need say a few things before you agree to move in. First, no crazy parties. This is a quiet area, not a frat house. Don't confuse the two."
"Alright."
"And second..." Jordan's voice tapers off and for the first time since meeting her, a bit of color rises to her cheeks. "I'm not saying you have to hide the fact you live here, but...but I'd prefer your clans of swimmers to hang out somewhere else. I'm not saying you can't have your friends over, of course. It's just I'm taking a lot of college courses over the summer and – "
I hold up my hand to cut her off and smile sadly. "Believe it or not, I could use a few weeks of quiet. No parties. No large gatherings of loud, rowdy college swimmers. You have my word."
Jordan shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Then she sighs and turns towards the side of the fridge. A myriad of take-out menus are pinned up with colorful magnets ranging from margarita glasses to a Santa dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and swim trunks.
"Alright, well. I guess that's that," Jordan says to her fridge. "So next order of business. Dinner."
I rub a hand down the length of my jaw and frown. Jordan tugs away the various pamphlets and tosses them on the kitchen table. She adjusts her falling pony tail and nods towards the menus.
"It's tradition," she explains. "I always buy my new roommates dinner the first night they're here. So...what sounds good to you?"
___________________________
A/N: Ah, and enter Trey's new roommate - Jordan! (pictured above) And no - there is not, nor will there ever be any romantic chemistry between Trey and Jordan. I do have the tendency to throw random twists into the mix, but that isn't one of them. Haha.
Thank you all for reading. Happy weekend!