Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Oh,” I feigned surprise. “He didn’t tell you?”
She shook her head. “Tell me what?” She leant towards me like we were sharing a deliciously gossipy secret.
I looked around the room. “He had a little accident at practice today. Down there…” I whispered.
Her eyes went wide. “Is he okay?”
I nodded. “He will be. But he’s out of commission for a while. Not that he wants to talk about it. You understand.”
She nodded quickly. “No. No. Of course not. Poor Alex.”
I nodded as well. “Poor Alex indeed. Don’t mention it, but I’m sure he’d appreciate it if you…steered clear. If you get my drift.”
Now her eyes went wide with understanding. “Yes. Sure. Of course. Thanks for telling me.”
I shrugged as though it was honestly through the goodness of my own heart. “Don’t mention it.” I paused. “But really, don’t mention it. He’s very sensitive about it.”
“Oh, Lara. Hey. You’re here,” Alex said as he came out of his room.
I quickly put my finger to my lips before he looked my way.
“You didn’t want to tell me she was here?” he asked, his lips tipped in a crooked smile.
“She just got here,” I told him.
He looked between us like he was looking for jokes, but couldn’t see any. “Cool. Well, I’ll see you later, E.”
I nodded. “Later.”
He and Lara left, and I was still reading in the window seat when he got back from his date a few hours later, but well within curfew.
“That was quick,” I noted.
“Yeah,” he said absently. “Weird, though.”
“Oh, why?” I asked innocently.
He looked at me like he was just realising I was there. “Oh. Uh. No. Nothing. Probably. She just…” He shrugged. “Just didn’t seem into it.”
I snorted despite my best efforts. “Oh?” I still tried playing innocent.
His gaze sharpened on me. “What do you know?”
I shrugged. “Nothing.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips despite himself. “What did you do?”
I shrugged again, looking around coyly. “I definitely didn’t tell her you had an accident at practice and might have been…” I pointed down, “out of commission for a while.”
He looked torn between impressed and annoyed. I couldn’t for the life of me work out what emotion was going to win.
“That was…” he started, his tongue running along his teeth. “That was a good one. Yep. Okay. Fine.” He gave a single nod. “Good night, Elliott.”
“Good night, Sasha,” I said as he strode purposefully to his room.
His expression was relatively neutral but, even after only a couple of weeks, I knew him well enough to know retaliation was coming.
The next day, he sent me a barrage of text messages updating me about his life constantly. Starting with a very early breakfast. It was like a ‘day in the life of’ picture book downloading directly to my Acacia App. It didn’t help that he had another swim meet, so there was a lot random, half-naked body parts.
When he sauntered in that night, he gave me the biggest smile like we’d been exchanging pleasantries all day.
“Cute,” I told him.
He batted his eyelids. “Thank you.”
“That was the most action I’ve seen in some time.”
His smile turned wry. “Oh, my.”
I tried not to laugh. “My phone. I meant my phone.” I kicked my head to the side. “Although, also true of any other meaning.”
He nodded. “Good to know.”
Monday was delivery day. The day we got our ‘essentials’ delivered; toiletries, tea bags, sanitary products. Things we might have run out of and couldn’t be trusted to go to the closest shops to get for ourselves. I was the first one back in the dorm after drop off, so I took a quick peek at Alex’s and replaced his deodorant with mine.
His response? “Thanks, E. Now I smell like flowers.” Complete with cheeky wink.
I had to admit, I really liked the smell of his. Then I realised it reminded me of him and put it at the back of my bottom-most drawer to never speak of it again.
Tuesday, he’d duct taped an air horn under my desk chair which scared the living daylights out of me when I went to do my homework. I could hear him cackling from his room.
Wednesday, I overheard him talking to one of his friends about yet another girl he was going to see that weekend and the impression he was a bit of a womaniser solidified. So, while he was out, I left him a message on the kitchenette saying ‘Alex, we need to talk ASAP’ and left the signature completely illegible. I then watched as he scrambled to work out who’d left it for him until I broke down in laughter and he guessed it was me. That one also semi-backfired because he then insisted we talk quoting, “the note said so, Elliott”.
Thursday, I walked out of my bedroom to a shower of popcorn Alex had rigged above my door. He was waiting in the living room and hooted with laughter when he saw me.
“That was an epic waste of popcorn,” I informed him.
He toppled over the back of the couch with laughter and I heard, “Worth it!”
As his face popped up again, I pulled a piece of popcorn out of my curls and ate it before sticking my tongue out at him. That only served to send him into hoots again.
On Friday, he had his friends over to our dorm and they were all on their loudest behaviour.
“Yo, dudes,” Alex said as I walked into the room. “You remember Elliott?” He smirked at me.
“It’s Lottie right?” Birdman asked, elbowing Alex companionably.
“Yes. Lottie,” I answered him, throwing a smirk of my own in Alex’s direction.
Alex looked bummed that his friends had sided with me instead of him.
“I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced,” the short red-head said, in yet another stripey t-shirt. “I’m Zac. Parker.” He paused, then said quickly, “Zac Parker.”
I nodded. “Pleasure.” Sort of.
Then came the big blond Viking. “Luke Cook.”
“He’s that big ‘cos he’s a rugby boy,” Alex said through a mouthful of food.
“Makes sense,” I said. Did it? “Hi.”
The lean one with the light brown hair he had to flick out of his face. “Sam Cox.”
“Nice to meet you.” Was it?
“Friends call him Fret,” Zac said.
I looked between them. “Fret?”
And the tall, lanky one with the dark blond hair known as Birdman. “There’s a whole story. Was hilarious. Probably had to be there. Henry Bird.”
“Ah. Hence Birdman,” I observed.
“Indeed.”
I nodded again. “Good to know.” It was.
“We weren’t being too loud for you to study, were we, E?” Alex asked.
I shook my head. “No. Fine. My mum throws much louder parties.”
“You two still having a pissing contest?” Luke the Rugby Viking asked.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
Zac of the red hair nodded and pointed between us. “The whole ‘who’s more annoying than who’ contest.”
I looked at Alex as though he’d betrayed a secret. “Well, I think we know who won.”
Alex nodded. “Me.”
“No!” I said. “It was totally me. I didn’t have any ruined dates because of fake crotch injuries. Did I?”
Fret actually spat his drink out with laughter. “She what?”
“Oh, she so won,” Birdman said.
“What?” Alex was highly indignant. “She did not!”
“That’s what Lara meant,” Zac said slowly, like pieces were falling into place.
“What did Lara mean when?” Alex asked.
Zac nodded. “Yeah. Last week, she asked me if you were okay. S
he said she knew she wasn’t meant to know, but she felt bad for you.” He snorted. “The actual reason is so much better than anything I came up with.”
Alex looked at me in something not as strong as a glare, but was definitely annoyance. “Fine,” he muttered as he sank into the couch. “She won.”
“You want to join us for some games, Lottie?” Birdman asked with a smile.
I shook my head. “Thanks, boys. I’ve got homework.”
“But it’s Friday night!” Fret said.
I nodded. “It is. But if I don’t do my homework now, what excuse will I have to not hang out with you?” I gave him a grin so he’d know I didn’t mean it totally personally.
“Even swamp witches can’t avoid social interaction forever, E!” Alex called as I headed back into my room.
“Just watch me!” I called back before closing the door.
Chapter Six
Life went on. I continued to survive at Acacia Academy with Alex Landry for a roommate. Our prank war, by some unspoken agreement, was under a ceasefire order. That’s not to say we didn’t try to annoy each other, but we didn’t go to quite such extraordinary lengths, leaving it more to sassy banter and witty remarks.
Alex continued getting up before the sun and going to bed just when my brain started to feel properly awake. It was like living with Mum, so a nice reminder of home.
Mum and I exchanged texts on a regular basis. Nothing of import, just generic ‘this happened’ and ‘that happened’ and ‘love you, miss you’ messages. The same as we’d usually send each other, just more often now. Neither Mum nor I were really phone people, so we felt no inclination to actually speak to each other.
I spent my meals at the end of my table in the Dining Hall, my nose in a book. I spent breaks either in the dorm or library, perfecting my resting bitch face so no one talked to me. It worked. For the most part. Alex refused to be deterred by any face I gave him, and his friends followed suit.
It wasn’t just them, though. One lunch time, I was approached by a bunch of girls with perfect manicures and not a hair out of place. They looked me over like they didn’t find me particularly impressive or interesting. I’m pleased to report the feeling was mutual.
“You’re Alex Landry’s roommate, yeah?” one of them asked.
I looked over my book at them. “I’m Lottie,” I answered.
“Lottie, like as in Elliott?” she asked.
I sighed and put my book down. “Lottie as in Elliott,” I clarified, feeling like it’d be nice to be known as me for once rather than my relation to my roommate or my father.
“What kind of name is Elliott?” another asked.
“The one my parents gave me,” I told her.
The first one flicked her hand at the second one who’d spoken. I recognised a shushing motion when I saw one. “I hear you’re a legacy.”
I frowned. “Who did you hear that from?”
“Is it true?”
I looked around as though I thought someone was going to come and save me. “My dad was an Acacia alumnus,” I said carefully.
Suddenly, she smiled. “I’m Liz Spencer.” As if they were an after-thought, she pointed to the girls with her. “Annabelle. Victoria. Lauren.”
I nodded. “Lovely.” It wasn’t.
There was a pause and I didn’t know if I was supposed to be offering her more information or whether I was supposed to recognise something about her name. It sounded familiar, but I doubted it was because I’d heard of her parents.
“I’m Vice President of the Legacy Society Committee,” Liz said finally.
I nodded. “Good for you.”
“The Year Eleven chapter of the Society meets on Wednesdays after school in the Wattle House Rec Room.”
We looked at each other without saying anything more for a few moments. I looked to the three girls behind her as though they might know what Liz was waiting for. Eventually, it hit me.
“Oh!” I cried, unable to help smiling. “Oh, you think I’ll… Oh, no. Thanks, but no. It’s not for me.”
Liz frowned. “Not for you?” she asked, clearly wondering at the audacity of me.
“Thanks for thinking of me, but I won’t be there.”
“But you’re a legacy.”
“Isn’t half this school legacies?” I asked, waving around a nonchalant hand.
Liz’s nostrils flared. And I mean flared. “Forty-seven percent.”
I nodded. “There you go. So, you’ll hardly miss me.”
“But you’re Elliot Hopkins’ daughter.”
I nodded again. “I’m also Elliott Hopkins in my own right. My dad might have cared for all this legacy crap – my grandparents certainly do – but I don’t. It’s not you, it’s me.”
I could have sworn smoke was about to billow out of Liz’s nose or ears, maybe both. Maybe her arse. Either way, she looked none too pleased with me as a person.
“Fine,” she said. “It’s not like it’s compulsory. You’ll just be the only legacy in the whole school not involved with your chapter, but whatever.”
I think she thought I’d care more than I did. “That’s fine. Probably for the best. You’ll all have a better time without me.”
Liz flicked her hair over her shoulder, gave me the stink-eye to put all previous stink-eyes to shame, then all four of them turned on their heels and sashayed away.
I thought very little of it until I saw Alex later.
“I hear you defied Liz Spencer,” he chuckled as we passed each other in the hallway.
“Is that going to get me in a load of trouble?” I asked him, not actually concerned at all about what Liz Spencer might have thought of me.
He flailed his arms in an exaggerated shrug. “Time will tell.”
He managed to say it in such a way that I suddenly worried about what was coming. For the first time in my life, I second-guessed my mouth’s take-charge attitude. Would it have been better just to go to the damn meetings?
Alex laughed, “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t entirely reassured, but I decided to not let it get to me. I might have told Mum I was going to join a club or group or something, but that didn’t have to be some kind of Legacy Society where I was probably going to have to endure some kind of weird initiation rituals.
No.
It’d be fine.
Liz Spencer would forget about me by the end of the day when some new excitement came along.
Whether she forgot about me or not, I suffered no repercussions and got though the rest of my day safely. I was in my room studying when I heard the boys arrive to hang out with Alex. They weren’t quite on their loudest behaviour, but they didn’t sound like they were trying to keep it down either.
I ignored them for the most part. Their conversations revolved around sport or girls or homework; boring standard stuff. That was until my name came up.
“You know, for a self-professed swamp witch, she looks good,” I heard Birdman say.
“She’s hot,” Zac agreed. “Alex, don’t you reckon she’s hot?”
“She’s all right,” Alex answered.
“Distance-wise, she’s extremely tappable,” Zac said.
“Looks-wise, she is also extremely tappable,” Birdman added.
“You haven’t thought about it even once?” Fret asked.
Alex laughed. “She’s not my type.”
“Okay,” Luke said. “Pretend she wasn’t a kick-arse devil may care young woman who doesn’t have a very attractive ‘come bite me’ personality–”
“That sounds pretty good to me,” Birdman commented.
“Pretend,” Luke continued, “she’s not awesome, what about then?”
Alex laughed again. “Sure. If she wasn’t awesome, she’d be tappable.”
“Shame I’m so awesome, then,” I joked, leaning in my bedroom doorway.
They all turned to look at me with expressions ranging from ‘crap’ t
o ‘lols’. Birdman, Fret and Alex were changed into casual clothes and Luke and Zac were still in their uniforms. Pretty standard Acacia protocol for post-lesson time during the week, I was discovering.
“Bold of you to say all that where I can hear it,” I commented dryly.
Alex shrugged, alarmingly casual. “It’s hard to have secrets in such a close living space.”
The way he said it was just a touch foreboding. Like he was going to slowly peel my secrets away from me layer by layer until no two people in the universe knew each other better. Which I knew, as soon as I thought it, was ridiculous.
“True,” Zac noted as I started getting myself a cup of tea. “Like I know my roommate likes Rule 34 porn.”
I felt my nose wrinkle. “How do you know that? What is that?”
“Ha!” Alex crowed. “Something you don’t know.”
“Wait,” I said. “Is that the one where ‘if it exists, there’s porn of it’?”
Alex deflated. “You do know it.”
Zac nodded. “That’s the one.”
“Is nothing sacred anymore?” I asked.
“Why?” Alex smirked. “You worried I’ll find out what kind of porn you like?”
I picked up my cup of tea and smirked back at him. “I have no shame, Sasha,” I said as I went back into my room.
I heard them talking about what kind of porn they thought I’d like, but it quickly shifted back to sports. I managed to tune them out for the most part and lost track of time.
At some point, Alex knocked on my open door. “You coming to dinner?”
I was learning it was just easier to lean into their niceness. It saved me a whole lot of extra talking. “Sure.” I hit save on my file and closed my laptop lid.
“I’m so hungry,” Zac was saying as we walked back out to the living room.
“I’m so hungrier,” Fret said, rubbing his stomach.
Zac shook his head. “I’m so hungry, I’m getting everything.”
“Nuh-uh. I’m getting everything.”
“Children,” I laughed. “I’m sure there’s enough everything for everyone.”
The six of us started walking towards the Dining Hall. Zac and Fret were ahead, still arguing about who was hungrier. Luke wandered along behind them all strong and silent like. I somehow ended up at the back between Birdman and Alex.
the Roommate Mistake Page 5