1. Dex

1

DEX

I lift my last box and head to the door. "Don't miss me too much."

Austin scrunches his nose. "Don't worry, I won't."

"Liar."

Austin and I have been best friends since grade school. We roomed together in the Franklin U dorms as freshmen and for half of our sophomore year. The plan was always for us to get out of the dorms, though I've been in more of a hurry than Austin. I've been on a waiting list for the political science house, known as Poli House, and didn't think a spot would open until next year.

When I got word that a bed would be available at the beginning of the second semester, Austin encouraged me to take it. But I feel guilty, like I'm abandoning him.

"Look at all the space I'll have." Austin motions to the empty bed on what used to be my side of the room. He's been gloating about scoring a single since I made my decision over winter break. That also makes me nervous because Austin has hermit tendencies. Not that I'm his keeper, but I am practically the organizer of his social calendar. Without me, he will never leave this room except for work and class.

That means I have to step up my plan to get him out more.

"You sure you don't want me to wait?" I ask, knowing full well he won't change his mind. He knows what a good experience it'll be for me, especially as I try for local internships. The other residents are as community-minded as I am, and I'll have a home base to work on any number of campaigns. The dorm room is too tiny for all that.

It was the same for me in high school. I was on student council and loved being active in the community. Austin is an introvert who always has something to read on his device—even in the middle of parties.

He's painfully shy and awkward around men he finds attractive, so even though he loves the idea of romance, he has always been too timid to follow that dream. But somehow, I can always get him to accompany me to any number of events. He admits it's because I'm one of the only people he likes being around, but if he wasn't so picky, he'd have more friends. He's smart and sweet and amusing too.

"Hell no." He frowns. "This is important to you."

"I'll just have to bug you to help with community-service stuff from Poli House."

He pumps his eyebrows. "Oh, you'll be doing plenty of community service at the Molly House. I mean Poli."

I huff out a laugh. I'm not any sort of hookup master, but I like to have a good time. I've never had an actual boyfriend because I suck at the long-term thing. Austin has tried to give me pointers from what he's read in his romance books, but I think all that stuff is ridiculous. Plus, I've never had serious feelings for anyone, and I've kept myself too busy to care. After seeing how many boyfriends my mom has been through since she divorced my dad, I know it's more important to make myself happy. And okay, Austin too because he's a significant part of my life.

"Think you got everything?" he asks, and I nod as I give the room a once-over. "Good. Now get out so I can jerk off without you hearing me."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"Don't you mean hear it?" he calls after me as I go out the door.

I grin as I descend the stairs and head across campus. It's a running joke between us that I'm the hornier one. Either he's really fucking quiet, or he hardly jerks off. Mind-boggling.

Poli House, a sprawling, brick, Tudor-style building, seems out of place with the rest of campus, but I think it's charming. Once I arrive, I'm greeted by a couple of housemates sitting with their laptops open at a long table in the dining area.

Ian grins. "Good to have you." I already know him since he's the FU student council president, and I'm serving as part of the student senate this year. Still, I was required to meet with him to make sure I would be a good fit with the other Poli House residents. Ian's cool—upbeat and friendly every time we've interacted. How he maintains that temperament is a mystery, but I suppose some people have brighter outlooks than others.

I like that Poli House does plenty of fundraising and generally frowns upon heavy partying. The no-hazing rule sold me too. I enjoy having a good time, but not to the point of passing out, especially not after hearing an old classmate died from alcohol poisoning on another campus. Plus, the other residents have similar political goals, as well as community connections. Milo, whom I know from my American Foreign Policy class, is the one who convinced me to put my name on the waiting list. And now Milo is my roommate.

On that note, I head up to our room at the end of the hall, which has a tad more space than the dorms.

"Hey! Welcome." Milo is folding laundry as I enter. "I know our room isn't much to look at?—"

"Are you kidding me? Compared to the dorm, this place is lit."

Milo grins as I set the box on the bed alongside random stuff from living with Austin for almost two years. My clothes and books are stacked in other boxes in the corner of the room.

"That dresser is yours, as well as the right side of the closet."

"Awesome." I start unloading my jeans and tees, realizing I accidentally took one of Austin's hoodies. I lift it to my nose for no good reason, then quickly lower it in case Milo sees me looking like some sort of creeper—or like I lost my best friend. But it has the desired effect because there it is, that apricot scent from Austin's hair and clothes.

"The laundry room is downstairs," Milo says, probably thinking I'm giving my clothes the sniff test.

"Cool, thanks."

The winter semester starts in a few days, so there's plenty of time to get myself organized. I'll show Austin that I can make it on my own. Generally speaking, he's kept me on track with my schedule. The fact that I now know how to use a calendar with alerts is all due to him getting tired of reminding me about stuff I've signed up for because I've spread myself too thin.

So essentially, I'm the yin to his yang. I get him out, and he keeps me orderly. It may prove harder to do not living together, but we'll make it work.

"It's okay to say no to things," he'd said, staring at my full calendar.

"Where's the fun in that?" I'd lobbed back.

Though Austin does have a point. He's way more deliberate than me and only accepts invites for events he thinks he'll enjoy. Or, let's be honest, if I twist his arm just enough. How else is he supposed to meet his dream guy from those romance books?

Scarred by bad experiences on apps, he's deleted all of them. The last guy kept comparing their bodies and tried convincing him to join him for workout sessions. It was an offhanded way of calling him out of shape, and though Austin fully admits he's not fit, he hates when people boil you down to size and appearance. He doesn't work out or shy away from junk food, and I love that about him.

But the experience that haunts Austin the most is when someone he was into called him a prude and ghosted him. I think his lack of experience is endearing and representative of who he is, but he'd roll his eyes if he heard me say that.

He's the whole package, and there's a guy out there who will appreciate him someday.

Once I put my clothes away, I arrange some picture frames on the dresser.

"That your mom?" Milo asks, motioning to the photo of me with my mom at my high school graduation.

"Yeah." Mom loves it most when we're mistaken for siblings, not only because we look alike but because Mom had me when she was only eighteen. I glance at the frame on his bedside table. "Yours too?"

"Uh-huh." He stands and stretches, his gaze catching on the other photo I set out. "Your boyfriend?"

I have no idea why my face heats. Austin and I have refereed these sorts of questions for years. "Nah, my best friend. Lives on campus."

"Oh, yeah, maybe I do recognize him."

I don't see how he wouldn't, especially since Austin works at the coffee cart stationed in the center of campus. He's taller than me, with wide shoulders, so he stands out. Plus, Austin has the best hair. It's thick and wavy and a distinct copper color I've rarely seen. It matches the freckles on his nose, shoulders, and arms, but he hates it when you point them out. Add in his striking blue eyes, and guys should be fawning over him. But he's very good at blending into the background and making himself seem small—or maybe invisible.

I smile. "He'll probably be around sometimes. Hope that's okay."

"Totally fine." He tilts his chin toward the wall beside my bed. "At least you two won't be banging the headboard like Craig and his girlfriend."

"Thanks for the heads-up." Okay, maybe that is more like the dorm. Some nights, Austin and I would lie awake, laughing and making fun of some of the sex noises we'd hear from other rooms.

Milo slips into his sneakers near the door. "Wanna head downstairs for lunch? Most of us still use the dining hall on campus, but sometimes we go in on stuff. Today, it's a sub tray. Sodas too."

"Sounds good."

I follow him out the door and down the stairs to the dining table, where the others are already gathered. I feel momentarily self-conscious, which would surprise Austin. I'm outgoing but not always as confident as I seem.

Though, there's a difference between being confident and arrogant. Take, for example, my housemate Carson, who scrutinizes me as I grab a paper plate. I recognize him from my Gender Politics class because his hand was always raised and he liked to argue with the professor. I don't mention we shared that class, nor does he, likely because he was too self-absorbed to notice. Or maybe I'm not giving him a fair enough shake and he's different once you get to know him. Like it is with Austin. He's pretty quiet until he's comfortable with someone.

As soon as we're all seated and eating around the table, I relax. Even more so when Craig introduces himself and Milo throws me a smirk like it's our inside joke. Everyone is nice and welcoming, even Carson, so maybe the decision to move in with these guys will end up being exactly what I've hoped for. Even if I do miss Austin.