Rival Roommates

13 ☁︎

Jordan
A thick sheen of sweat covers my body as I jolt from my bed, startled once again. My hand instinctively reaches for the cupboard where I some wine is kept, but I pull back when I remember I don't have it anymore. Some days, after night terrors like that I need a drink. Other days, it's better off to not even try going back to sleep.

The red light of my alarm casts a trail along the floor, it reads 4:53 am so I rub my eyes open anyways, and stumble out of bed. Picking my shirt off the floor, I pull it over my head and swing open the door to my bathroom. The past week, my room has been in constant disarray, similar to the state of my mind. The gym has been my consistent lifeline, for de-stressing and unwinding, especially the punching bag, which I feel better about using instead of my friends.

Mason and Reece know why, they're used to my occasional spacing out and pushing myself away from everyone, but they don't question it. Not like they would understand the full story anyways. I splash my face with water, the instant coolness breaking me from my sleepy trance, and spit out the thick feeling in my mouth. Dark red saliva spirals into my sink, disappearing into the drain and leaving a faint mark behind. Huh. Must've banged my chin on the headboard.

I wipe the blood away and walk out of my room, pulling my shoes on as I fumble around my pockets for my keys. Cursing, I remember my spares must be in the hoodie Valentina had borrowed the other day, so I slowly turn the handle of her door and push it open. Slipping inside, I edge towards her nightstand, trying to look around me in the darkness of her room for any keys. Her body rests peacefully on the bed, a slither of skin showing from her waist as her shirt has rode up, her chest falling slowly with each light breath.

I spot my hoodie on the chair in front of me, and groan as I realise she's dumped a pile of school books on top of it, heavy folders and all. Internally sticking my middle finger up at her, I fiddle with the material, reaching into the pocket and pulling out my keys when I find it. I contemplate taking my hoodie back, but the thought of her in it suits my mind better than me, so I leave it there and walk out of our dorm.

——
Valentina
I can't stop the grin spreading across my face as I walk out of the principals office. Any fool would think I'd probably just been awarded some boring certificate for participation, grades or effort, but that wasn't something new to me. What caused the smile to reach from one ear to another was the fact that I'd managed to convince the principal to allow me to put my weekends to good use.
Not doing drugs, I'm not a crack whore.

Considering I've had experience from working in our old cafe at home, and how I worked as a bartender for a short time too, I figured I'd try help my dad out by getting myself a part time job also. Only shifts after school or in the weekends, which I would get to via the bus, and still manage to make time for my schoolwork and essays. It was a lot, but I was an exceptional student, and I knew it, so I was going to make it work.

Walking with a bounce in my step gets me to my lesson far earlier than usual, despite the ongoing murmurs in the background I managed to block out.

"Is that the new girl?"
"Is she the one sharing room with Jordan?"
"What would a boy like him even want to do with her?"
"I heard they hooked up in the teachers lounge after hours."
"Well, apparently she's a cheater."
"She could cheat on me any day."
"She's probably a slut."

Well, most of the chatter I managed to block out, others I chose to ignore. How easy it was for a girl to get slut shamed for not even doing anything or being in a situation beyond her control was crazy, but it wasn't new. And the bitches of Elmgreen High didn't make it any better.

I pull my books out of my locker, jamming them into my bag without care and shutting the locker door harshly, the only way it manages to shut. Tough love, baby. Behind my door, a blonde boy only a few inches taller than me faces, leans against the locker with a knowing grin on his face. Waiting for him to speak, I merely raise an inquiring eyebrow and he pulls his hands out his pocket and holds his hand out to me.