The Perfect Roommate by Minka Kent

Author:Minka Kent [Kent, Minka]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781983487644
Amazon: 1983487643
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2018-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Six

“Meadow.” Someone calls my name halfway between the Garrison and Montclair buildings. I’m almost late for class and I almost ignore them, but the tap on my shoulder and the tromp of footsteps on the pavement behind me tell me it isn’t an option.

Turning, I find Thayer, slightly winded and adjusting his messenger bag.

“Hey,” I say, walking toward Montclair Hall. “What’s up?”

“You have a minute?”

Not really. “Sure.”

He exhales, rubbing his palm along his jaw. “I think Lauren’s cheating on me.”

Ya think?

“Really?” I can play dumb with the best of them. “Why do you think that?”

“Something I saw. On her phone.” His jaw tenses. “And the way she’s been lately. It’s all just adding up. And I keep thinking about what you said. About trust. Do you know anything, Meadow? Has she said anything to you?”

This is a fork in the road I never saw coming. And now I’m stuck, with only seconds to decide which direction I’m going to take and no time to analyze the immediate outcome.

“I love her so much,” he says, eyes glassy. And I believe him. He wouldn’t put up with all this bullshit if he didn’t think he loved her. “I have to know who it is. I have to.”

“Thayer …” I feign hesitation, but my mind is made up. I’m singing like a goddamned canary.

“Meadow.” His hand rests on my shoulder. We’re standing outside the main entrance of Montclair now.

“I’m late for class.” I take a step.

He takes a step. “Please. You know something. I can tell. You know who it is.”

“Even if I did …” I shrug, “ … it’s not my place.”

“Please. Tell me,” he says, voice almost breaking. I justify what I’m about to do a dozen different ways, assuring myself it’s the right thing. She doesn’t deserve him. He deserves to be happy. But more than that, he deserves the truth.

Biting my lip, I glance away for a second. “Don’t tell her I told you.”

“Of course.”

“It’s Professor Bristowe.” My heart kicks up a notch and I’m lightheaded. Is this a euphoric high or the flood of anxiety-rooted adrenaline coursing my body? Either way, it’s done. There’s no going back now.

“Bristowe?” His eyes flash dark. His teeth and his fists and his entire body clenches. When he drags his hand through his hair and tilts his head back, I feel compelled to stay and be there for him—but I have a presentation in two minutes.

“You going to be okay, Thayer?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he turns and leaves, disappearing into a pack of baby-faced freshman guys headed toward the IT study lounge.

I bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling.

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