Fell In Love With My Roomy Chapter 18

"Oh, that makes sense," he chuckles, tinged with a hint of sadness. "It'll get easier," he assures me, though I find it hard to believe, a feeling that lingers. "So, what did you say your number was?" He retrieves his phone, breaking my thoughts.

I feel the need to inquire, "What do you mean when you say it's pretty normal?" I hate myself a little for being so distracted. This guy is clearly making an effort to engage with me, yet I'm not fully present.

"It happens every time our group goes to a party or drinks," he explains, reiterating what Abby had already mentioned. "The problem is he never talks to her or acknowledges her. Instead, he takes advantage of her, and she thinks they're something more."

"Has he done this to other girls?" I need to uncover the truth, even though I realize Abby was trying to be polite.

"Since the first day I met him," he shakes his head. "Some people have a lot of baggage or secrets resurface when they drink, and I think that's his way of trying to push it all back down. I just don't get why girls keep going back for it."

"Well, not everyone thinks things through," I mutter. "Sorry for all the questions, but he's just difficult to live with, and he doesn't talk to me."

"I get it," he nods. "Sometimes he just needs time, and with some people, he never really warms up. Don't stress over it too much, and don't make his issues your problem."

"I'm good at ignoring his nonsense," I reassure him, tapping my beer can against his, which makes him laugh. "The other night, I was coming home from work, and he insisted on walking me home, even though I was in a busy part of campus."

"What do you do for work?" He asks, steering the conversation in a different direction.

"I work at the Coleman's pool," I reply. "I'm a lifeguard and also teach swimming."

"That's pretty cool," he smiles, causing my cheeks to redden slightly. I didn't think it was all that exciting, but he seemed to think so. "So, do you get to sit in those lifeguard chairs and all that?"

"Yeah, it's nothing like Baywatch, though," I chuckle. "It's mostly telling people to walk and trying to differentiate between a playful splash fight and an actual drowning."

"Have you ever had to jump in and rescue someone?" He inquires, and I simply shrug.

"Only twice," I confess. "The first time was during a free swim. Some kids dared their friend, who couldn't swim, to join them in the deep end. He got into trouble and started panicking. There wasn't enough time, so I jumped in and brought him to safety."

"Whoa, that sounds pretty intense," he remarks, and I concur. "Just a kid and all."

"Yes, it was pretty nerve-wracking. Saving a child changes things," I sigh. "The second time, a guy's leg completely cramped up in the middle of the deep end, and he couldn't swim back. It wasn't as terrifying." I nod and then shake my head. "Sorry, this is quite a downer."

"No, it's okay. I like listening to you talk," he says with a smile, and my smile widens. I can't remember anyone ever saying that to me before. "As you were telling the story, I could almost see it all happening in slow motion."

"Haha," I laugh out loud, rolling my eyes. "What about you? Do you work or something?"

"I don't really have time for work, as I'm on a full scholarship, and everything related to school is taken care of," he explains, shrugging.

"What kind of training do you do?" I ask, steering the conversation away from the heavy topics. He lets out a laugh.

"Everything: hot yoga, team lifting, sprints, cardio, and I have one-on-one sessions where I just practice scoring goals," he tells me, and I grimace. That kind of lifestyle doesn't appeal to me.

"You sound really busy," I comment.

"There are some gaps in my schedule," he replies, his eyes lighting up, bringing a smile to my face.

"So... you're a forward?" I inquire, and he casually nods.

"Yeah, center forward," he confirms with a grin. I nod in response. "I score goals every now and then."

"Well, that must be the most exciting part of a soccer game," I chuckle, and he smiles, rolling his eyes playfully.

"You should come see a match sometime," he suggests with a smile that makes my heart flutter a little. But no, he can't be interested in me, can he? It's been so long since anyone has shown any romantic interest in me. I'm not saying this for attention; I genuinely don't believe anyone sees me that way.

I smile and reach for his phone, and he hands it over with a friendly grin. How long have we been chatting like this?

"Hey, Chase," we both raise our eyebrows as Kent enters the kitchen and joins our conversation. "You've met Julianna."

"I have," he smiles warmly. "She's pretty awesome."

I feel a slight blush creeping up at the compliment. Chase glances back at me, and Kent is standing there, looking a bit ominous.

"Is there anything we can help you with?" I ask, giving Kent a sideways glance as I type my name into Chase's contacts.

"We should head back," Kent states, and I raise my eyebrows in confusion.

"What?" I inquire, not understanding.

"Yeah, we're heading back to the apartment, and we're not leaving you here," he insists as he takes Chase's phone from me and hands it back to its owner.

"What do you mean 'we're' leaving? Who the hell is 'we'?" I question, as Kyle is engrossed in a beer pong game, and Mark is deep in conversation with Abby. "We've only been here for an hour and a half."

"Julianna, cut the crap," Kent says with frustration evident in his tone.

"No, I'll stay here and come back later. You can go," I retort, reaching for Chase's phone once more.

"Julianna—"

"I'm having a conversation here," I interrupt, adding my phone number to the end of Chase's contact. "If you want to go home to have a shouting match with Piper, that's your choice. But I'm not leaving, and I won't be sitting sober in my room, watching you two bicker."

That seems to hit a nerve. He doesn't say anything; instead, his lips press together in a tight line.

"I don't need you to babysit me."

"I'm not babysitting you; I just want you to get back safely. So, let's go," I reply, rolling my eyes.

"Julianna, she refuses to leave," Chase intervenes, which provides some relief.

"Isn't that just perfect for you?" Kent retorts, clearly agitated. "Julianna, please."

"I don't want you to take me home," I say truthfully, and his expression slightly softens. "I just want to enjoy my evening without witnessing you making out with someone. Where is all this sudden concern coming from? I'm perfectly fine, and you don't care about me. You just want to spoil my night to get what you want, which I don't appreciate. Now, please, leave us alone. Chase can take me home."

It felt like we were locked in a standoff in the kitchen. My heart raced, making it difficult to breathe, and my mouth felt parched. It's usually tough to stand up to him, and alcohol certainly wasn't helping.

He reaches out and grabs my shoulder, attempting to pull me away from Chase. I sigh and manage to slip out of his grip.

"I won't be taking Piper home," he asserts firmly. "I'm leaving and going back home, Julianna, because we've only been here for an hour and a half, not four years." He tells me as I pull out my phone to check the time.

He wasn't lying; it was evident that time had passed swiftly, and it was getting late.

"Mark is bidding farewell and expressing gratitude to Abby, while Kyle is finishing up his game. We're all leaving, but I won't let you stay behind. I'm not trying to be a pain, but I can't just let some guy you barely know escort you home when you're drunk."

Mark, Kyle, and Chase were all approaching us as I shut my eyes briefly.

"Is Chase not a friend of yours?" I question. "I'm perfectly safe."

"Stop arguing with me, Julia. Chase isn't what you think—" I cut him off, slipping my phone away, and he appears somewhat deflated by my response. I brush past him, waving to Chase, before following Kyle and Mark toward the exit.

"Julianna!" He calls out to me as I step outside. "What on earth does that mean?"

"You've got some nerve, Kent," I mutter to myself as he draws closer. The summer air was turning chilly, signaling the impending start of school and the arrival of fall.

"Yeah, and who fed you that line, Chase?" He retorts, and I chuckle in response.

The walk back home seems to pass in the blink of an eye, and I sigh as I retrieve my keys. I kick off my shoes in the foyer.

"I can't figure you out," I remark softly. "You've been treating me poorly for days, and now you're concerned? You're worried about whether I'll make it home safely or if I'm okay?" I question him, but all he does is stand in the doorway, silently watching as I shake my head. "You need to figure out who you are and stop with the strange behavior. Either you want to be my friend or not."

"Juliana, I don't want to be your friend," he declares earnestly, causing my stomach to churn. I don't know what to say; my eyes feel like they're burning.

"Wow, okay," I murmur softly, and he clenches his jaw. "Hey, how about you just stay away from me?" I mutter, determined not to cry in front of him.

I make my way down the hallway to my room, infuriated that he's managed to ruin everything for me. He had to spoil what was a great evening. Why has he been acting this way? How could he say that right to my face? I just can't comprehend it, and I would never treat someone like that.

I prop my feet up on my desk and retrieve a makeup wipe. I'm done trying to make things work with Kent, so forget him. I don't understand why he's been acting so strangely—first being weirdly protective, then terribly unpleasant, and now just plain obnoxious. I'm irritated and starting to question my decision to move in here.

"Julianna?" I purse my lips when I hear Mark's voice through the door.

"Don't come in," I reply. "I need some space."

"Don't worry, Julianna; he didn't mean it," he reassures me, and I sigh, shaking my head as I approach the door. Mark looks surprised when I open it.

"I don't care, but that doesn't make it right," I state firmly. "I just want to be left alone. I don't know what his issue is, but he needs to stop bothering me."

"Alright, I'll give you some space," he sighs and rubs the back of his neck, and I lean against the door frame. I didn't intend to stir up trouble in the apartment, but it seems that's what's happening.

"I appreciate it, Mark," I murmur softly, trying to hold back tears. I hated it when people disliked me, especially Kent, who seemed to harbor unfounded resentment toward me. It was taking a toll on me.

"I know you're trying, and you're not at fault," he says reassuringly. I nod quietly, gazing at my feet as my chest tightens.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" He asks, confused, and I nod. "Julianna, what are you apologizing for?" He says with a faint smile, and I sigh.

"I feel guilty because I think I'm the cause of all this trouble, and I know things were simpler when Carlo lived here," I confess, and he simply shrugs.

"Things change, and Kent can't handle it. He's been taking it out on everyone, not just you, and we're all trying to cope. Everything will settle down, and neither Kyle nor I are upset with you. I'm pretty sure Kent isn't mad at you either."

"Why would he do that, then?" I inquire, and he offers a faint smile.

"I don't think he's accustomed to worrying about someone. He wants you to be safe and cautious because if something were to happen to you while you were living here, he wouldn't be able to handle it," he explains, reassuring me. "He doesn't hate you; he's just peculiar."

I let out a small laugh at that because "peculiar" hardly scratches the surface when it comes to Kent.

"Thank you for trying to make me feel better," I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. "And for treating me kindly."

"Why do we need roommates and friends, huh?" He chuckles, and I smile. The fact that he already considered me a friend after such a short time warmed my heart. "It's not true that we hate you, Julianna. You bake cookies, clean up everyone's messes, and save us money on rent by moving in. You might even be an improvement over Carlo."

"Most likely," I agree, and he laughs.

"So don't fret about it; Kent will be Kent, but Kyle and I? We're on your side," he assures me with a smile. "And I really don't want to see you cry; it would break my heart."

"My apologies," I murmur, no longer wanting to cry. Mark was a great friend. "I won't."

"Good," he says. "Hug?" When he asks, I nod, watching as he opens his arms.

One of the tough aspects of leaving home was missing my family and their hugs. Mark gave me a warm hug, and it comforted me to know that he and Kyle didn't share Kent's sentiments.

"Thanks a lot, Mark," I mumble as we part, and he nods.

"Anytime, Julianna." He smiles, and I return the gesture. "Get some rest; tomorrow is a new day."

I give him a nod, and he waves as he heads back down the hallway to his room. He was right. Tomorrow was a fresh start, and this nonsense with Kent would eventually subside. It wasn't just his unkindness towards me that was challenging to handle, because I could manage that. It was the unpredictability, the flip-flopping of his behavior from being nice to acting like it never happened.

That's what I couldn't deal with: the back-and-forth inner turmoil he seemed to grapple with. My best course of action now was to focus on preparing for school, picking up shifts at work, and simply keeping my distance from him. Being around him always made me feel awful about myself.