The Roommate from Hell

Mom would be right, too -- there was no reason for her to throw in the towel when she'd done nothing wrong. But why did Professor Dundee suspect her?

It all made no sense whatsoever. Hours of pent-up frustration and rage overcame Carrie, and she flopped down on her bed and burst into tears.

She almost -- but not quite -- had herself under control when there came a knock at the door. "Carrie?" It was Frances, which reminded Carrie about the gloves anyway. "Carrie, are you okay?"

"Come in," Carrie said, sitting up and drying her eyes as best she could.

Frances stepped in. "Honey, what's wrong? I heard you crying, I know it's none of my business..."

"No, it's fine," Carrie said, standing up and enveloping her friend in a grateful hug. "This is why we got rooms near each other, isn't it?"

"Are you okay?"

Carrie took a deep breath. "I think so," she said. "I think I will be, anyway, I mean."

"Carrie, what's wrong?"

"I just got some bad news today, but I think it'll pass."

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" Frances asked with a knowing smile. "I mean, that's fine, but if you do want to talk about it..."

"Frances, thank you. But honestly, it's better if you don't know just yet. Oh! And I almost forgot...what can you tell me about Rob?" As soon as she'd said it, she remembered she'd be able to give him the gloves herself that evening anyway. But it had slipped out.

"Rob Wharton?" Frances' eyes lit up. "Oh, that's a sad story, Carrie. But he's matured a lot since freshman year. He's a really nice guy when he's in a good mood, I'll put it that way. And I guess he is in a good mood more often these days."

"What do you mean?" Carrie asked. "I mean, I've only seen you with him that one time, too."

Frances shook her head. "You weren't here freshman year, Carrie."

"Don't remind me! I sure wish I had been!"

"Me too, but...Rob and I were close, then. We used to take long walks through town and have these super-honest, soul-baring talks. But he...well, he never quite admitted it, but I think he wanted to be more than friends, and I just didn't see him that way. For one thing, he was awfully moody. He hated it here, you know."

"I wouldn't have guessed that," Carrie said.

"How well do you know him?"

Carrie let out a bitter laugh. "Well, not much at all. I just -- yesterday I dropped my bio book in a puddle and got my gloves all wet fishing it out, and Rob loaned me his. He was just passing by and just like that, he gave them to me!"

Frances nodded. "That's Rob. Heart of gold, but he's too good at hiding it sometimes. But it sounds like he wasn't yesterday. Carrie, you're not thinking..."

"Well, you don't have designs on him, do you?" Carrie was terrified all of a sudden.

"No!" Frances said. "I can't imagine he'd give me another chance anyway! I just don't want you to get hurt, and Rob -- he can be awfully moody sometimes. But he has matured a lot, like I said."

"Thanks," Carrie said. "That's good to know upfront, I guess."

"Carrie, I had no idea!" Now Frances looked delighted. "Honestly, I'd love to see the two of you together! Did this really just come out of nowhere yesterday?!"

"You could say that, I guess," Carrie said, pleased to realize her eyes were dry.

At least until she realized what Frances would think of her after the first of April.

Losing a friend beat getting expelled, she told herself again and again as eight o'clock approached. It wasn't much consolation, but it made the time inch by as she tried to focus on her studying and hoped there wouldn't be many people passing by in the hallway. Even on an all-female floor, Carrie wasn't big on being seen less than fully clothed. But then, she reasoned as her clock-radio flipped to 8:00 and she reluctantly stood up and pulled her top off with her door still wide open, she didn't think Rob would really show up anyway.

She was wrong, for at that very moment Jerrod arrived home from the lab to find Rob studying on his bed and listening to the oldies station on the radio. "Rob, remember those signs we posted announcing the English tutoring club?" he asked as he switched off the radio.

"We?" Rob asked. "I posted them, not 'we'."

"Right, I had real work to do," Jerrod replied. "In any event, I was just in Cloverton Hall and they all seem to have been taken down there. I need you to go down there and post some new copies on all the bulletin boards."

"You're just as capable as I am," Rob said.

"Nonsense, my time is much more precious than yours. Besides, you volunteered for that club too, and it's in your best interest to get as many volunteers as possible. How many have you gotten so far?"

"I don't know offhand," Rob said. No need to tell Jerrod there'd been plenty of interest; the bastard would just take credit for it himself.

"Exactly," Jerrod said, in the tone of voice he always used for that word when implying that Rob was a liar. He pulled a stack of the flyers out of his backpack. "Here, I made the copies, I just want you to post them."

"I will, later."

"Do it now, Rob, you'll forget if you don't."

"Says who?"

Jerrod played his ace. "Do you think I don't know what you forgot about yesterday? Phone call? Important?"

Rob laughed and didn't look up from his book. If the asshole thought he'd missed an important message, so much the better.

"If I have to piss you off to get you out of here, I will," Jerrod threatened. "These need to be put up and they need to be put up now!"

"Didn't you just walk past Cloverton on the way here?" Rob demanded. "In fact, didn't you have to come back past it on the way back from the student union after you copied those?"

"I noticed it earlier today, and I made the copies next time I was in the union for a business meeting!" Jerrod snapped. "Are you calling me a liar? Now I've got a lot to read here, I'm already probably gonna be up till four again, and you're a member of the committee too!" Jerrod was almost crying in outrage now as he waved the flyers in Rob's face.

Rob, though he almost welcomed the opportunity to move Jerrod to tears, was in no mood for the verbal abuse he knew was coming if he didn't take the flyers. "Fine," he stood up. "But next time, you see the missing flyers, you replace them."

"Don't count on it!" Jerrod needled. "We read Bartleby in American Lit last week, so, 'I'd prefer not to.' If you don't know what that means --"

"I've read Bartleby," Rob grumbled as he tied his shoes. "But remember, 'I'd prefer not to' applies to me putting up these flyers."

"Don't you threaten me," Jerrod snapped.

"Only one way to see if I do put the new ones up," Rob said, and he was out the door.

He was not even a little bit surprised to find every floor in Cloverton Hall had the flyers displayed exactly where he had posted them last week. The bastard just wanted him out of the room. Since he had received plenty of interest already in the club, Rob seriously considered tearing down the flyers just to spite Jerrod; but he decided that would only be sinking to his level. After checking all four floors in Cloverton proper, he almost didn't bother checking the annex, which had a separate entryway across the path from the rest of the dorm. It was an all-female floor, and since it had no direct access to any other floor, a man couldn't pretend to be just passing through on the way to his own floor. So Rob had always felt a bit of a pervert on the few occasions he'd set foot in there. Besides, Frances was living there this year and he'd been trying so hard to leave the past in the past.

But if there was one thing Jerrod's dishonesty had taught Rob, it was the joy of being able to always tell the truth with someone who couldn't be trusted with the same. Rob admitted to himself that it wouldn't hurt just to step in and check the bulletin board. He bit his lip and opened the door.

The floor was mercifully deserted, with only one door open, across the way from the bulletin board. Rob deliberately avoided looking into that room as he approached, lest it be Frances'; but his eye nevertheless managed to catch sight of a woman who definitely wasn't Frances. It took but an instant to realize who it was - none other than Carrie, whom he'd spent last night daydreaming about -- and another instant beyond that to realize she was in the midst of undressing!

"Ay!" Gentleman that he did his best to be, Rob turned away and shielded his eyes. "Carrie! I'm sorry! I was just hear to check on a flyer I posted here!" Looking safely away from Carrie, he scanned the bulletin board and saw that it was there just like all the others had been.

"Oh, it's okay, Rob," Carrie said. Though she felt utterly humiliated, she was also flattered by his efforts to give her some dignity. "Really, I don't mind!" she lied, feigning confidence. "I spilled tea on my blouse and I was just changing, and hey, this is home. If I want to go around in my bra, so what, right?"

Rob turned around and grinned, and did his best to look only at her face. "Excellent attitude, Carrie. We should all be so comfortable like that."

"My thoughts exactly," she said, relaxing a bit now that the shock was over with. "Oh, I need to return your gloves anyway." She turned and went into her room. "Come on in!" she called over her shoulder.

Though he was sure it was all in his imagination, Rob followed Carrie in. Once again he was amazed at how similar a woman's room looked to a man's, nothing like his fevered imagination back in high school. "Nice room," he said. "I like the way you've decorated it."

"Thank you," Carrie said, turning around and still showing no sign of discomfort at his presence.

At long last Rob allowed himself an unapologetic look at Carrie in her bra. "I like the way you've decorated you, too," he quipped.

Carrie laughed and cupped her breasts in her hands. "Why, thank you!" Figuring she had him hooked, she opened her bureau and pulled out a t-shirt. "Want some tea?" she asked, gratefully putting the shirt on. "I won't spill it on you, I promise!"

"That'd be great." Rob helped himself to a seat on the floor.

"Don't be silly, Rob, sit on the bed!" Carrie got a second mug from her collection, and realized a moment too late that she hadn't poured herself a cup to back up her story. "Guess I've got to make a fresh one for me, too," she added hastily, hoping he wouldn't notice there wasn't a wet spot on the floor or a stained blouse anywhere to be seen. She handed him his gloves, and then pulled the teabags out of both mugs. "So what was it you were looking for on the bulletin board?" She just had to know how Jerrod had lured him to her door.

"Oh, gee, I'm sorry, Carrie," Rob said. "If you've compared notes with Frances, you know I have a bad habit of whining. I've been trying to stop that, I really owe her a lot for teaching me that."

"That's sweet, Rob, and she has noticed," Carrie reassured him as she handed him the hot drink and took a seat just a little too close to him on the bed. "But does that mean what you came here to look for was something worth whining about? I can't see how!"

"You don't know my roommate," Rob said with a wry grin.

Carrie didn't know whether to laugh or cry. But she did know enough to play dumb. "Who's your roommate?"

"Jerrod Leff." Rob sighed. "We were best friends last year, and I had the bright idea of taking a roommate as a junior because I could get a bigger room that way. Big mistake."

"I'm sorry," Carrie said. "I do know Jerrod, and he is...yeah, I know him." She smiled conspiratorially, though she felt horribly guilty. "But what's he got to do with the bulletin board?"

"We're both on the committee for this new tutoring club." He handed her a copy of the new flyer that he now knew wasn't needed. "He told me he was in Cloverton and saw they'd all been taken down, so he sent me down here to put up new copies. Because he's too busy and important to do it himself, you know?"

"I do know," Carrie said. "Yeah, I'm a bio major, you know."

"Then you know all about him!" Rob chuckled. "Anyway, it turns out they were all still right where I put them. He just wanted me out of the room so he could study alone there. He pulls that kind of thing a lot."

"I believe that," Carrie said. Truer word was never spoken! At least she really was enjoying Rob's company so far. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad -- for the moment at least. "Well, you know, Rob, you're always welcome to come here to study. Just don't expect me to be in my underwear usually!"

When they had both finished laughing, Rob said, "That's really nice, thanks." An awkward pause, and he went on, "Honestly, I've been hoping to get to know you a little better anyway. I know Frances and I don't spend a lot of time together anymore, but any friend of hers, you know..."

"Well, that's nice to hear, Rob," Carrie said. "I think I'd like that too, so why don't you tell me something about you that Frances probably hasn't?"

"I might have to think a while about that one," Rob said. "Frances and I used to really bare our souls to each other. But that was two years ago." He sipped his tea. "Okay, here goes. It took me most of freshman year to adjust to this great place because I'm a scholarship kid from a crumbling New England milltown and I got here with a chip on my shoulder. Frances probably told you about that."

"Not exactly," Carrie said. "Really, we haven't talked that much about you."

"Well, that's good, I guess," Rob chuckled. "Anyway, I'm afraid it's true, I did have a lousy attitude freshman year, I see that now. I had this idea that everyone here was super rich and in love with everything about school and studying, when, you know, with me it was more like I had to study just to get out of my crummy neighborhood."

"But you did," Carrie said. "I'm impressed."

"Well, it wasn't as terrible as I used to imagine it," Rob said. "Just really working class, and my mother was a real bohemian type who romanticized it like you couldn't imagine. I guess I learned to do that, too, you know, dodging bullies on the way home from school, you learn to think of it like some big adventure."

"Good attitude," Carrie said, though she wasn't at all sure of that. It wasn't something her upbringing in a posh Twin Cities suburb had taught her.

"The thing about growing up like that," Rob said, "Is you really learn to be on the defensive all the time, then when you finally get on that train and you're free, only then do you realize how crummy things really were before."

"You took the train all the way out here?" Carrie asked.

"Oh, sorry, no," Rob said. "It's just something I used to imagine because of one of my mom's favorite records and the front hall of our house. We lived on the first floor of a two-family place, and the hallway outside our apartment was long and dark with a banister that reminded me of train tracks, and there was this song Mom loved about --"

"The freight train in the hall?!" Carrie's face lit up. "Tom Waits! I have that CD here." She sang the next -- and last -- line of the song, and Rob joined in with her. "And we'll slide all the way down the drain, to New Orleans in the fall!"

"Yes!" Rob touched her hand, and she felt a burst of genuine joy. "I used to imagine doing that so many times, just hopping a train to anywhere but there! Anyway, God knows why I didn't appreciate it here when it was my big escape. But I do now, honest. It's just too bad I messed things up so much with Frances. But we're on decent terms again, at least."

"Did you have a crush on her?" Carrie asked. "I mean, if you don't want to answer that, I'll understand, but it sounds that way."

"It was that way, all right," Rob said, in spite of himself as he could feel himself falling again now -- but at least Carrie wasn't dating his best friend. No need to mention Rebbie, though. "But, I got over it. That's why I don't want to come across like I'm whining about her, you know. Jerrod, though, well, some things are worth whining about."

"At least you know you're in the right there, Rob," Carrie said, desperately wishing she could come clean -- and it did occur to her that she could do that. But she didn't. "He's crazy, everyone who knows him well knows that."

"But most people don't," Rob said. "He's really good at hiding his true colors until you've got something he wants. You should hear some of his stories about the way he manipulated his friends in high school. And probably here too, he just hasn't told me because then word would get out."

"I believe that," Carrie managed to say with a straight face. "Listen, if you ever need to talk about him...I can sympathize."

"Well, thanks!" Rob downed the last of his tea. "I appreciate that, but I really wouldn't want to impose when we barely know each other."

He stood up to leave, and Carrie figured she had no choice. "Well, if you'd like to get to know each other better, Rob..." And she gave him the most flirtatious grin she could muster.

Rebbie spotted Rob first when he appeared in the dining hall the next afternoon. "There he is," she told Mark. "Now, are you going to have a man-to-man talk with him, or am I going to have to stop being Miss Congeniality?"

"He's got no place else to go," Mark said. "Besides, you're the one who's always flirting with him."

"It's not flirting! He knows you and I're going out."

Mark laughed.

Rebbie didn't. "Do you not want us to have any time alone tonight?!" she demanded.

"Of course I do," Mark said. "I mean, look, we can go to the lounge and sit in on whatever video they're watching, and you get up to go to the bathroom and don't come back, and I'll sneak up to your room."

"That's so manipulative!" Rebbie said. "He's our best friend, isn't he?"

"Project much?" Mark asked.

Rebbie didn't get a chance to respond before Rob arrived with his tray. "Happy Friday," he said, taking his seat beside Mark.

"You're looking radiant today," Rebbie said.

"Thanks," Rob said, looking down at his freshly-ironed button-down shirt, which he didn't recall having worn all semester. "Got a date tonight. I guess I should've waited to wear this, but I was just feeling too festive to hold off, you know?"

"Congrats," Rebbie said.

"Who's the lucky one?" Mark asked.

Rob opened his mouth to answer, but Rebbie interrupted. "Mark! It's not appropriate to ask!"

"Hey, we're all friends, aren't we?" Mark said. "Besides, it's a small campus."

"Careful who you date, Rob," Rebbie said. "You see what I get stuck with?"

"And who I get wuck stith?" Mark shot back. Rob joined in on the laughter at one of their favorite inside jokes.

"Oh, not that again!" Rebbie protested.

"Yeah, there's wothing nurse!" Rob rejoined.

"Wothing nurse than guiss thame?"

"Gay the plame!" Rob could barely get the words out over Rebbie's disapproving glare.

"Shake a tit!" Mark said.

Rob's laughter stopped. "Aw, that's disgusting!"

"Either way!" Rebbie added. "God, Mark, you're such a little boy sometimes!"

"That's what you love about me, remember? Mark said. "I don't make you feel fifty, like everybody else?" Rebbie had taken two years off for reasons even Mark didn't know about, and rarely missed a chance to remind everyone she was older.

"You asshole." Rebbie looked as angry as Rob had ever seen her, and he was almost happy about that -- anything to get her off that pedestal. She stood up and picked up her tray. "Good luck with the date, Rob."

Rob nodded his thanks and looked straight ahead, wondering if he ought to get up too and leave Mark alone.

But Mark was having none of it. He picked up a spoon and started laughing again. "What's this?" he asked.

"A spoon?"

"No. What's this?" Now he pointed at the saltshaker.

"I guess it's not a saltshaker."