Fell In Love With My Roomy Chapter 115

"You should head home, Juls," I hear a voice, and when I look up from my work, Adrian stands over me.

"I will, but first I need to finish my paragraph," I reply with a smile.

One of the few places at Northwestern with a microform reader is the Early Modern department, where I've been working on this project for a while.

Our team is pretty small. Doctor Elliot and his Master's student Alyssa are leading the project, with five of us assisting. We all attended prestigious schools and were chosen to help. I was there, along with Bianca from Harvard, Miles from Stanford, and Adrian and Pike, both from Northwestern.

Most of the time, it's a good mix of people. Doctor Elliot wanted a diverse team to assist with this project. We all studied Early Modern Studies, History, or Anthropology, but we come from different backgrounds and have different experiences.

I must admit, though, that it seems like everyone else's past and life have more wealth than mine.

Most of them are renting accommodation for a month, but I'm staying in the dorms because the university offered that option. It appears that everyone else had the means not to do it.

We all have different tasks to support Doctor Elliot with a dig site he's established in southern Texas. They bring us artifacts, and it's our job to carbon date them, determine their age, and establish a connection to the region.

It's interesting, but it can also be quite tedious. Still, I know it will look good on my applications for a Master's degree.

Even though it's late, I'm trying to finish my reading for tomorrow. Then I can relax a bit more, as Friday is approaching.

If Adrian wasn't standing over me, I'd probably complete this task more quickly. He's been... nice, maybe a little too much. But he seems to stop talking whenever I mention Kent. He knows I have a guy waiting for me back home.

"Alright," I sigh and turn off the machine, then remove my microform. I walk to my desk, open the drawer beneath it, and place it in a safe spot. "Quitting time," I mockingly say, locking it up and putting the keys in my pocket.

"What's your plan for tonight?" He asks as we turn off the lights, and I just shrug.

"Probably lie down in bed and sleep, maybe after taking a shower," I tell him, and he nods, holding the door open so I can exit the research space first. Then he follows, and I sigh. Adrian is always around, always eager to show me around campus, the city, or something. I've become quite skilled at getting him to move on now.

"So, any big plans?"

"Huge," I laugh, and he joins in.

"It's late, do you still want to walk?"

"No, thanks, that area is usually crowded," I simply shrug and push through the building's doors to get outside. "I'm just heading back to Alison Hall."

"I keep forgetting you live on campus," he laughs as if that's amusing, and I roll my eyes. "Don't worry, I'll still walk you to your door."

"I'm good, Adrian," I say, shaking my head and sighing. "I need to get back and call Kent. We'll catch up another day." I dismiss him and walk towards my building.

I have one thing to say about residence: Thank God I never had to live in one at Brown. From the pictures I've seen, I think Brown's is better. I dislike having to wear shower shoes, eating in the meal hall, and hearing kids shouting down the hall when I'm trying to study.

At least it's only for a month.

I reach the door and scan my pass on the card reader. A moment later, I hear the buzzer and open the door.

I search for my room number, which is 306. The girl in room 305 has covered her door with pictures of Pitbull because, as she's informed her friends more than once, "he's Mister three-oh-five!"

I open the door to my room and let out a sigh. It looks almost empty, but I remind myself that I only have to stay here for two more weeks. I've moved in, put up some lights, and hung pictures. Even the dinosaur Kent gave me is sitting on my bed, ready to greet me after a long day.

I drop my bag and take off my jacket, nearly heading over to close the curtains as I do so. Then I shed my clothes, slip into my robe and shoes, grab my caddy, and make my way to the showers in the common area.

To be honest, this is the worst part of my day. I despise taking showers here because it just feels grungy, and I do my best to avoid touching the walls while I'm in there.

I observe first-year students running past me with drinks they probably got without permission on their way to a lousy party in someone's room. All the girls are in skinny jeans with curled hair, and the guys are sporting hoodies from famous brands.

When did I become such a grouch? Despite being only a couple of years older than these folks, I sound like a cranky thirty-year-old.

After a quick but refreshing shower, I return to my room and change into comfortable clothes. It's almost Friday.

I retrieve my phone, pop in my headphones, open FaceTime, and watch it start to ring. I've been calling him almost every day, though not daily.

On the other end, Kent's face appears, and I smile as I sit on my bed. "Hey," I beam.

"Hi there, darling," he says cheerfully. "Just had a shower?"

"Yeah, oh gosh! I can't fathom how you endured this for so long. This place is pretty grubby." All he does is laugh at me, and I roll my eyes.

"You're just too cute," he chuckles. "Getting along with anyone down there?"

"Are you my mom?" I tease, and he rolls his eyes. "It's tough when you only know a few people, none of whom live nearby, and everyone around you is eighteen."

"That's not great," he sympathizes. "Maybe you could offer to buy drinks for the 18-year-olds."

"Oh, become a bootlegger. That's my favorite way to make new friends," I joke.

"You're going to shoot down all my ideas, aren't you?"

"Most likely," I shrug. "I'm doing fine, Kent. In two weeks, I'll be done with this, and then I'll be back at Brown with all of you. I don't need friends because I won't have much time to spend with them."

"How are you managing to get your work done there?"

"I usually tackle it on the weekends, so I'm not too tied up."

"When you tell me about your week, I'm almost knocked off my feet. If anyone was cut out for this, it's you," I smile as he sighs.

"What's happening at your end?" I'm curious.

"Today, Mark said hello, so things are getting better," he tells me. "My classes are fine, and there's not much happening there."

"So school is going well, then?"

"Yeah, it's going smoothly," he nods. "Well, I'm just not sure about what to do next year."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I could start working right away," I blink, and he shrugs. Darn, we're about to grow up. "Or I could pursue an MBA or something similar."

"Which one sounds more appealing?" I ask, curious about where his thoughts are leading.

"I'm not quite sure, to be honest. I want to put my knowledge to use and find a job in the real world. On the other hand, there's a part of me that wants to stay in school for a while," he ponders. "I'm not sure if it matters to me or not; I could go either way."

"You could." I tell him, and he smiles.

"What are your plans for 2019?"

"I've applied to a few Master's programs, including one at Brown, one at Northwestern, and a couple of smaller ones. With a degree in Early Modern Studies, the options are somewhat limited," I confess. "I know all the professors at Brown, so I'm hoping to stay there."

"Well, then, I guess I'll start working," I raise my eyebrows as he shrugs. "That way, wherever you end up, I could go with you and search for work there." I'm grinning from ear to ear.

"That's really nice, but do what you're passionate about, and we'll figure the rest out," I offer, and he just shrugs.

"We don't have to make that decision just yet," he says with a smile. "You look nice."

"You're an excellent fibber, Kent," I tell him. After a shower, I resemble a wet rat, and my dark circles are expanding.

"When I haven't seen you in weeks, you look great," he casually responds.

"I miss you," I confess, as I've been lazing on my bed. "This situation stinks."

"Me too, baby. I miss you," he says while running his fingers through his hair. "Is that the dinosaur-shaped toy I gave you?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

Yes, it is, but? I reply as I pick it up and give it a squeeze. "He's cute, but he can't replace you."

"I'm pleasantly surprised that you brought him," he murmurs, and I chuckle.

"Of course I did," I say quietly.