29. Kali

CHAPTER 29

Kali

“Still haven’t talked to him?” Amy asks, helping me put away some of my new dishes.

Today is move-in day. The apartment building is booming with laughter, excitement, and moving boxes lined up and down the hallways. Multiple people have peeked in as they passed my room and said a quick hi. I’m anxious about meeting my roommate. We’ve only talked through texts to tell each other what we’re bringing to the apartment, so we don’t have a lot of doubles.

I shake my head and sigh, irritated with myself that I’m letting a broken heart ruin the moment. I’ve wanted this for so long.

I’m going to college!

When I told her and Ted what happened when I got home that night, Ted told me he could help me find out what happened with my parents’ accident. I didn’t want to find out, but I needed to. I owed it to Paxton to learn the truth. We both lost a lot from that accident.

When I allowed myself to think about it, I already knew what the report was going to say. Why would he lie to me, knowing I could debunk his story? All it took was a simple request to see the accident report, and I had my answer. I’ve wanted to call him and tell him, but something deep down is stopping me. It’s been two weeks since we talked.

“I think it’s better that you don’t,” Ted says in his stern voice, dropping the last box on the kitchen table. “I don’t like that he lied to you.”

That makes two of us. At least about the lying part. The other part is where the lines blur. I’m mad at him for lying to me, but I also miss him—the way he touches my hair, his chaste kisses when I least expect it, and when he calls me Kalico. I won’t believe that he’s the person who hurt me, but until he’s cleared, it’s best that we take a break.

Two hours later, I can’t stop staring at my room. This is my freaking room!

When Amy asked me what theme or colors I wanted for my room, I stared at her like she had two heads. It never occurred to me I should decorate my room, and even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t know where to start. I’m used to ragged, mismatched old furniture. She told me to leave it up to her, asking me only for the colors that I liked. There was a bedspread that I found while out shopping that was turquoise, gray, and white, so she planned the entire room around that. I’ve never been a girly girl. In fact, I can count on my hands the number of times I wore a dress outside work, but this room makes me want to go put a dress on.

“I love it!” I wrap my arms around Amy’s shoulders, staring at the room over her shoulders. There’s a fuzzy white rug on the floor, with matching pillows on the bed. The artwork on the walls ties in all the colors of the room. “It’s amazing,” I whisper.

“I figured you didn’t want a yellow room,” she teases.

“I would’ve loved it too. And it would have reminded me of you.”

Her eyes soften. “I expect you to keep in touch with us. Tell us how class is going. And you’re welcome to the ranch anytime.”

Ted comes over and wraps his arm around my shoulder. “And if you ever feel in danger or need help, you call me immediately. I’ll be here as fast as I can.”

This. I’m going to miss this so much .

With a tearful goodbye, they wish me well on my exciting journey.

I’ve kept the front door open because I’m enjoying meeting my neighbors. And it seems to be the thing to do. Two girls from across the hallway brought me cookies already. In the five years I lived in my apartment, my neighbors kept to themselves, and no one ever made me food. But this is college , I keep telling myself. It’s different. Being social is part of the deal. That’s the part that might be the biggest change for me.

I just sat down with my new laptop when I hear a voice. “Please tell me you like pineapple on your pizza and Dr Pepper.” A woman breezes into the apartment, balancing two boxes. One covers her face. She drops them in the entry and blows out a breath before I can offer to help. A petite platinum blonde with lively eyes greets me. She’s wearing blue scrubs. “Also, I don’t do messes or crying. Please don’t be a crier. I get my fill of tears at work.”

I stare at her, first wondering if she’s my roommate, and then blink, thinking, am I a crier? Sure, I’ve cried a lot in the past three months, but I had a reason for every tear that fell from my eyes. When I conclude I am not a normal crier, I reply, “No, to the pineapple…” Because, gross. “Yes to the Dr Pepper, I’m a tidy person, and crying isn’t my thing.”

She claps her hands twice as if she just won a prize and then walks over to me, her hand stretched out. “That just means more pizza for me. I’m Zoe.”

I stand and meet her handshake with a warm greeting. “Kali.” Zoe exudes an energetic vibe. Totally opposite to me, which surprises me because, hello, we filled out a compatibility questionnaire. I was expecting someone more grounded…not bouncy.

She buzzes around the apartment, looking at everything with so much energy I wonder how much caffeine she’s had today. “Do you need help with more boxes? I’m all moved in, so I can help.”

“Oh my gosh!” she exclaims when she gets to my room. “Your room is to die for. You need to help me decorate mine.”

“Ahh…” I stare at my room, still not believing it’s mine, and shake my head. “That is not my doing. A friend did that for me. Give me a blank room, and it’d be worse than it started.”

“Oh well. I’ll just spend all my time in your room.” She laughs, but I have a feeling she’s not kidding. “I saw that you’re a freshman, but we’re the same age, right?”

When I chose her, it was because we were the same age. I couldn’t imagine living with an eighteen-year-old, and we have nothing in common. “Yep. I had to save up some money to come to school.”

She hands me a box, grabs the other one, and I follow her to the kitchen to unload it. “Good for you! They say if you don’t go right after high school, the odds are that you’ll never go.”

That’s me. Breaking all the odds.

She’s easy to talk to, given she likes to talk. After thirty minutes, I know her entire life story. All she knows about me is that I’m from Blackburn. Which is fine. There isn’t much more that I’m comfortable disclosing, so I’m happy to let her do the talking.

She sets out two plastic cups and pulls out a bottle of red wine, showing it to me before pouring. Like I care what it is. After handing me a cup, she raises hers and says, “Here’s to a new exciting year with a new friend.”

“Cheers,” I say, the excitement bubbling up inside me as this new adventure awaits. Dream number one is about to begin.

“Since we’re getting to know each other, is there a man?” She wags her brows. “Not that I care, but I like to walk around in my panties and bra sometimes, and I’m certain you don’t want your man seeing that.”

I bob my head from side to side. “Yes. And no?”

“So, complicated?”

That about sums it up in one word. I nod. “We’re taking a break. It might not work out.”

She lifts a brow. “You sound like you miss him. Are you sure it’s over?”

How do I tell her he’s the prime suspect in my torture case? At least she’d understand the complicated part.

“That’s a loaded question, Zoe,” I say, wrinkling my nose, staring at my cup. I don’t want to start off our first day together talking about all my drama. “We’ll get to that another day. Tell me more about what you’re studying.” I swallow the rest of my wine as she easily jumps into telling me about her nursing degree.