Fell In Love With My Roomy Chapter 145

"I hate school sometimes."

Yes, I like researching and finding answers to questions no one's ever thought of before, and I like my degree, but the coursework sucks. I'm sick of reading pages and pages of scholarly articles and books and writing a new paper every other week.

My honors project is draining every ounce of energy from me, and I was starting to worry if it was even worth it anymore. I hadn't heard about Brown's Master's program yet, and that's the whole reason for this extra burden.

Today was Tuesday, one of my busier days. I only had class today until noon, and then I usually spent the rest of the day grinding out work. Today I had to meet with Doctor Binkley and discuss my work. It was something we did monthly to make sure I felt like I was always on the right track.

Kent had a break after his class at one-thirty, and we were planning to meet up and study together until his next class at four. Then I was planning to go home and take it easy.

I take the elevator up to the top floor of the arts building and navigate the familiar winding hallways until I find her office. I'd been here so many times, had so much to discuss with her. Sometimes we'd meet just because I genuinely liked talking to her.

I see her typing at her desk and I poke my head in, knocking on her doorframe. "Juls," she smiles, turning around and closing the windows on her monitor. Her office was well established, she'd obviously been here for quite a long time and it showed, from the stacks of books to the pictures of her and her family to the plants on her windowsill.

"Hi, Doctor Binkley," I smile, and she grins. "How was your weekend?"

"Boring, I just read a really interesting book," she says, snapping her fingers and retrieving it from a stack on the corner of her desk. "It's about societal patriarchal views in early modern Europe, the brothel industry, and all of that sort of thing," she says, waving her hands. "I thought you might like to borrow it."

I definitely don't have time to read that, not on top of all of my other work. But I'll skim the preface, the first chapter, and the conclusion, bring it back in two weeks, and she won't know any different.

"That would be great," I nod, and she kindly passes it over.

"How was your weekend?"

"It was great, actually. It was my birthday yesterday, so I got to celebrate with my friends and family."

"Oh, lovely," she beams. "Do anything special?"

"My boyfriend took me to dinner last night; it was really nice," I tell her, and she raises her eyebrows.

"I didn't know you had someone in your life, not that it's any of my business, of course. I just....I try to know my students outside of just our university," she says with a shy smile, placing her palms on the desk.

"We've been seeing each other for a few months now," I nod. "I guess that's pretty recent in all the time we've known each other. Plus, we haven't seen much of each other in the past few months."

"Not nearly enough," she chuckles. "So tell me all about Northwestern, I just read the journal you all published. Very interesting."

"It was so incredible," I insist, running a hand through my hair. "I loved every second of it, it was kind of exhausting, but worth it, and I just.....I feel like I got so much out of it," I explain, knowing I'm rambling. "Thank you so much for proposing it; I learned so much while I was away."

"And how's your project?" She asks. "Still making progress?"

"Piece by piece," I nod. "Every week I try to give at least six hours to it; it's well over halfway done."

"Great, I look forward to reading it," she smiles.

We chat a bit more about ordering a source book from a different library that I needed to write one of my last sections. She asks me some more questions about my work and if I feel ready for my final presentation.

After all is said and done, I realize I'm running late to meet Kent. "Did you have any questions for me?" She asks, and I shake my head, picking up my bag from the floor.

"No, I'm good for the moment," I assure her. "But I'll reach out if I need any help."

"Great, I'm glad to hear it," she smiles. "Did you decide on your plans for next year?" She asks, and I press my lips together.

"Well....yes and no, I've applied to a few Master's programs and..... was hoping to stay here, but I haven't heard anything yet," I admit, feeling my hand grip the straps on my tote bag firmly. It made me anxious to think about it, and talking about it with her was stressful. "Oh," she nods, and I furrow my eyebrows, trying to figure out what she means by that. "I wouldn't worry about that," she shrugs, and I feel my eyes widen. "Keep your eyes on your email, Juls. Brown wouldn't turn down someone as accomplished as you."

"A-are you sure?" I ask, and she chuckles.

"I'm on the board that chooses," she whispers. "Check your emails."

My mind lights up when she says that; there's nothing to worry about. Nothing to keep me awake at night anymore; she essentially just told me I got a spot.

"Okay, I-I'll keep my eyes on my email, I guess," I smile, and she nods.

"I'll see you soon, Juls, keep your work up," she says, and I wave quickly, darting out of her office and yanking my phone out of my pocket.

I dial Kent's number as I go to the elevator. I'm meeting him in a study room on campus, but I can't wait until then. It rings once, and then he picks it up.

"Hello?"

"Guess what?" I say instantly, stepping onto the elevator, and I hear him laugh quickly over the other end.

"You're not coming to study anymore?" He asks.

"Sorry, I know I'm late," I laugh. "But seriously, guess what?"

"What?"

"Doctor Binkley just told me that I've got a spot in the Master's program next year! I just have to wait for the email, but I'm in!" I nearly scream, thankful I'm alone in the elevator. The doors spring open on the ground floor, and I step out, hurrying to the front door.

"That's great," he says, sounding happy. "I knew you'd get it, you deserve it."

"I'm so excited, that means......nothing has to change, we can stay here next year," I mumble, pushing the door open in front of me to walk outside. "I'll be there in like three minutes; I'll tell you more then, but it's just really good news."

"That's awesome, baby. I'm happy for you," he smiles. "I'll see you soon, love you."

"Love you too," I whisper, hanging up the phone.

I couldn't even explain the feeling of relief that I felt right now. Nothing had to change, nothing was going to be different. He'd be with me; we'd stay together, and I didn't have to worry about moving my life or ruining anything. I'd get to stay at my university and with my friends.

I get to my building and hurry to the study rooms. I find ours and I slide the door over to find Kent sitting with his laptop, a tray from Starbucks in the middle of the table. His eyes lift, and I drop my bag on the nearest chair, running to him on the other side.

He grabs my waist, pulling me into his lap, and I wrap my arms around him tightly. The room was relatively private, with a window in the door and a skinny one that ran horizontally along the wall, but we were mostly alone.

"I'm so proud of you," he whispers, running his hands up and down my back calmly. I lean in and press my lips to his, stealing a short kiss.

"Thanks, baby," I mumble, running my fingers through his hair. "Sorry I was late."

"All good, the ice in your drink might have melted a bit, but that's alright," he chuckles, and my eyes glance to see the two coffees. His was in a white paper cup, mine was in a plastic cup, layers of tea and whip together. "I also got you a cake pop."

"You are perfect," I whisper, giving him another quick kiss. He chuckles a bit, and I sigh; I shouldn't have sat here, now I don't want to get up. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he whispers back, kissing my cheek, and I chuckle, standing up off of his lap and taking the seat beside him.

It was really hard to focus on working when I was so happy. It was also hard to focus when he was on the other side of the table. But I tried to stay on task because I didn't want to work when I got home, so I did my best to finish my reading.

"What do you say we knock off early?" He asks. I furrow my eyebrows and look at the clock in the top corner of my computer. It's nearly three-forty.

"Don't you have class at four?" I ask.

"Technically yes," he shrugs.

"You're not skipping class," I warn, and he rolls his eyes. "It's only ninety minutes, and then you'll be home."

"But we should do something to celebrate your good news."

"It's not even official yet," I remind him, and he shrugs. I knew why he wanted to go home; I always wanted more time with him, and our weeks were slightly busy, so we didn't get a lot of downtime together. "Why don't you go to your class, and I'll go home and make dinner? We can eat together once you're home, then once I get the official news, we can do something nicer."

"You don't have to cook me dinner," he sighs, and I smile.

"I like cooking dinner," I assure him, reaching across the table for his hand. I knew he was nervous about me doing too much for him or feeling obligated to behave a certain way. He was very concerned with not having any sort of relationship like he'd seen his family members in, and while it touched me, I would know if something was wrong.

"It'd be fun; then we could sit and eat together. We never get to do that," I whisper, and he chuckles.

"If you're sure, then I'd really like that," he admits, and I smile, starting to gather my things. Together we pack our bags and vacate the study room for the next people who need it.

"I'll walk with you to your building; it's on my way home," I whisper, placing my hand in his and lacing our fingers together.

"Cool," I feel him press a kiss to my temple, and the two of us leave the building. It's still cold outside, but we're almost through February. It's insane to think that after these next two months, we'll be done our undergrads.

"What are your summer plans?" I ask, and he chuckles.

"I don't have any," he shrugs. "I usually stay here most of the summer, party, go to the gym, run."

"That sounds fun," I shrug, "and kind of boring."

"It can be, but nothing really feels too exciting anyway," he admits. "Sometimes I go home, but not for long. Considering we just made a second trip, I think I'll save that until August."

"Fair," I nod.

"Cali invited me to visit her this summer," he sighs. "I'm still thinking about that; it's a long time to be in the air, and I hate flying."

"Visit her....like in Paris?" I gape, and he nods. "Lucky."

"If I go, I'll bring you," he whispers, and I blink, tripping slightly, but Kent keeps me up.

"You'd take me to Paris?" I ask, shaking my head, and he nods.

"And anywhere else you wanted to go, Italy maybe......Spain?"

"Oh my god," I mumble, shaking my head.

"You don't want to go?"

"No, I would, I.....really would but.....that's just really overwhelming to think about," I admit, shaking my head. "Not just because of the money, just in concept."

"You didn't travel much growing up?"

"No, we didn't have the money," I shrug, running a hand through my hair. We just had really different lives, and sometimes those quick things would happen and really show themselves. But....I can't keep being afraid of money. He's going to spend it, and the less it bothers me, the less he'll feel bad about doing it.

"When I travel alone.... it's not what you saw when we went to New York," he laughs, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's hostels and backpacking, trains and ferries. I use my money when I'm away to make sure that I can get the experiences. But....honestly I don't travel first class."

"Isn't it scary?"

"I guess at first? But I got used to it. If we went, I wouldn't expect you to do that, but I'd try not to give you a heart attack either," he assures me. "I know how you feel about money."

"I know how I feel about excessive money," I clarify. "Let me know if you're really planning to do it, and I'll make more of a choice then."

"Sounds like a plan," he agrees, and we cross the street, heading towards his building. "Thanks for meeting me today; that was good news about your program."

"Anytime," I whisper, slowing down as we approach the doors. "I love a study date with you."

"I'll see you at home in a bit; I love you," he tells me, giving me a quick kiss, and I grin.

"I love you too," I add, waving as I walk down the sidewalk. He gives me a quick smile and then pushes open the doors into his building.

Once I get home, I sigh, tossing my bag on a chair in the dining room, and I look at the groceries in the fridge. I'll probably end up making a stir-fry, which is one of Kent's favorites, and when I make it, I season it better so it's more enjoyable.

I have a while until it needs to get started, and it'll only take me about twenty minutes to get it ready. I pull out my laptop from my backpack and audibly groan when it doesn't turn on. I'm getting sick of this stuff; it's so old that it just won't work the right way anymore. I retrieve the power cord and plug it back in in the kitchen, trying to get it to start up.

I wish I hadn't been so against Kent getting me a new computer for my birthday. I probably could have talked him out of a fancy Macbook and at least into something newer and more practical. But it was too nice of him; I'd have to get through the last two months of school with this mess.

It boots back up, and I sigh, signing in, and I watch an email pop up on the screen. The subject is 'March Pool Schedule,' and I press my lips together. The thought of going back makes me feel exhausted already. I'd done it for years, it had been something I'd always been able to do without too much trouble, but now it was depressing.

Maybe I need to change up what I do. I know I need to work, but maybe I'd do better as a bartender or a waitress. I'd still deal with the terrible public, but I wouldn't have to constantly shave my bikini line and sweat to death, or worse, pull fifteen-year-olds from the water.

I should look into it sooner than later. I don't want to regret going back there, and I realistically don't have to right now, after my parents decided to pay my rent until May.

I close my laptop, unable to deal with the decision in front of me and get an early start on the prep for supper.

I was alone in the apartment, a rare occurrence, but a pleasant one. I chop and dice things, heating up the pan on the stove. I was hungry right now, which was making me want to add noodles. I boil some of those while I measure out my soy sauce and chili.

Soon I hear the door unlock, and Kent's silhouette steps through, carrying a package. I look at the clock over the stove, seeing it's only five-thirty-five.

"What? Did you run here?" I tease, and he chuckles, tossing his bag on the dining chair next to mine.

"Yep, as fast as I could," he chuckles, cupping my face for a kiss, which makes a laugh bubble in my stomach. "That smells good," he whispers, and I grin.

"It's almost done. Take off your coat," I suggest softly, and he nods, kissing my cheek. "What's in the box?" I ask, turning down the heat and adding the noodles to my chicken and veggie stir-fry.

"Your late birthday present," he chuckles. "I picked it up this morning after the gym, but I left it in my trunk. Thought I'd give it to you when I got home tonight," he shrugs, and I smile.

"I forgot about it," I admit with a shrug. "What is it?"

"You'll have to open it and find out," he teases, walking it to the peninsula and setting it down. I roll my eyes and finish up our dinner, taking out two shallow bowls. "Why's your laptop on the counter?" He asks, changing the subject.

"It died again; I had to plug it in," I sigh. "I was trying to check my email and stuff."

"Laptop still giving you trouble?"

"Yeah," I groan, putting some of the food in a bowl for each of us. "It's really getting bad; it's like it can't leave an outlet anymore," I mumble. "It's tricky where I have to do so much typing and save so many things to it; I feel like I'm killing it."

"You said it's old, right?"

"Yeah, super old from when I was like fourteen," I shrug, passing him his dinner. He takes the bowl from me kindly, and I gesture for us to sit at the table.

"You don't want to open it first?" He asks, and I chuckle.

"I'm starving; this'll be gone in a few minutes, and then I'll open it," I whisper, pulling out a chair at the table. Kent picks the box up, setting it in the middle of the dining table, and pulls up a chair beside me.

We chat a bit about school and how excited we both were to finish our degrees. Life felt almost unreal right now, knowing that once that email came through, confirming my spot at Brown, we'd move into a new adorable place all by ourselves. I had a boyfriend, a real one, and one I loved.

Once we're done eating, he takes the dishes to the dishwasher, and I pull over the unmarked brown box. I wait for him to join me again, and he nods. "Open it; I made you wait long enough," he whispers, and I smile, pulling up the flaps and looking inside. But what I see nearly gives me a heart attack.

A sleek white box sits inside, skinny and fancy with the Apple logo on the side of it. "No..." I mumble in disbelief, pushing it back, and he chuckles. The words "Macbook Pro" are on the side of the box in light gray font, and a picture of a modern laptop sits on the front.

"I know you said no..." He sighs. "But they last forever; I've had mine for four years now, and it's great. You're about to finish up massive papers and write a bunch of research... I just wanted you to have something as cool as you and your work. Something that won't shut down every three seconds."

I pull the small box out of the brown one and smile, feeling truly spoiled. It was really nice, too nice, but I really did need this... as much as I didn't want that to be true.

"I got the one with the most storage; there's no fan so it'll be silent when you use it. And it's under warranty for four years," he whispers, and I look it all over, feeling amazed. "Please don't worry about the money; you'll like it."

"This is so sweet," I insist, shaking my head. I feel tears forming in my eyes, and I lean over to hug him. "It's... amazing."

I feel him genuinely relax when I hug him, and he gives me a good squeeze. "I'm glad you're not upset."

"You spoil me rotten, you know that, right?" I tease, pulling back, and he chuckles, leaning in to give me a quick kiss.

"And I love doing it," he whispers softly. "I'll help you set it up and figure out how to transfer your stuff over to it. Best part is it'll connect through your phone too. Your messages will come through it, your emails, calendar..."

"You sold me at calendar," I tease, and he chuckles, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Thank you so much; you... you really have no idea how bad I needed it."

"Yes, I did. You think I can't hear your grunts and huffs across the hallway when your computer shuts down?" He laughs, and I roll my eyes. "I'm glad you like it."

"I love it; thank you so, so much," I insist, giving him another hug, and he chuckles. "Just in time for all the studying I have to do tonight too," I tease, and he pulls back, taking my face in his hands.

"Tell me you're joking," he says seriously, and I try hard not to crack a smile. I actually didn't have anything to do tonight, but seeing him freak out was funny. "We just did a shit-ton of homework; I thought you wanted to watch a movie tonight or something."

"Oh, you're so gullible," I whisper with a laugh, shaking my head. "Of course I'm joking, but you really fell for it."

This look of realization crosses his face, and he stands up quickly, picking me up so fast I don't breathe, and I laugh, being thrown over his shoulder.

"You think you're funny?" He asks.

"Put me down!" I laugh, and then I gasp when one of his hands lands on my backside, radiating a quick tingle through my skin. It wasn't painful; he was just messing around.

"Oh, I'll show you not to mess with me, Julianna," he chuckles, and chills run up my spine. I shimmy around, trying to slither out of his hold and back to his front, but he's strong. I'm effectively staring at the floor over my boyfriend's shoulder.

"Kent!" I laugh, and he spins around, whipping me through the air. "Stop! Stop!" I giggle, barely able to stop my laughter. My ribs are starting to ache. "Okay, I'm sorry! I don't have plans tonight!" I gasp, and he stops moving around, and I clear my throat. "Now put me right-side-up, please!"

I hear keys turning the lock in the front door, and Kent quickly tries to pull me back to the front of his body, but Mark walks in with his headphones on before I'm even looking at something other than the floor.

Mark stops in the doorway looking confused and a little embarrassed, like he was walking in on something private.

"Hey," he chuckles, and Kent and I both clear our throats, moving me back to the floor together.

"Um, hey," Kent says, and my feet finally hit the floor. I shove his chest with a smirk, rolling my eyes.

"What are you two up to? Practicing your WWE power moves?" Mark chuckles, tossing his keys on the ledge. I'm nearly shocked at how relaxed he's managed to stay. Even 'chill Mark' was still pretty against me and Kent doing anything touchy-feely.

"Something like that," Kent laughs, ruffling my hair, and I elbow him.

"I still can't believe I missed the fact that you two fighting all the time clearly meant you liked each other," Mark snorts, kicking off his shoes and tossing his bag off. "You're still at it." The two of us just stare, and Mark blinks, looking like he'd like to know why we're so confused. "What?"

"You seem... relaxed," I say slowly, and Mark smirks.

"Well... I can't hate it forever," he sighs. "You've been together for almost three months. I can't sit here and not be supportive still. I can hear you two laughing through the walls all the time. If you're happy, then whatever."

"Whatever?" I gape. "I thought you were going to end your and Kent's friendship when you found out."

"Well, that was obviously not a great moment for me, was it?" Mark asks, opening one of the cupboards and pulling out a granola bar. "I don't want you to think you can't be happy in front of me or whatever. You can, time's passed, I've matured, and I'm not upset at all. Now I have to go to the gym, so if you two want to... you know." "We weren't," Kent answers immediately, and Mark snorts.

"Okay then, just letting you know you were in the clear," he chuckles. "Honestly, just loosen up, Kent."

We both stand there, still confused, and Mark slaps Kent on the back, stuffing the granola bar in his mouth and waves, heading back out the front door.

I'm not sure exactly what to think, but... it's positive. I'm happy everything is changing for the better. The biggest reason I used to be afraid of telling anyone was finally coming around.