3

Chapter Three

Living with the Enemy

Aria’s POV

Sharing a room with Luca Silver was like sharing a cage with the world's most arrogant tiger.

The first morning, I woke up at 5 a.m. to the sound of my own alarm, the harsh, electronic kind that could raise the dead. Well, that was the best alarm that could actually get me out of bed. I rolled out of bed, pulled on my running shoes, and shuffled toward the bathroom. I can’t show up for my first class late. That is a wrong way to make my first appearance in class.

I turned the door knob and was shocked to realize it was locked.

I knocked softly on the door. "Hello?"

There was no answer, but I could hear the shower running. And then accompanying the sound of water running in the bathroom was a loud humming. Off-key, arrogant humming.

I turned around to look at the other side of the room. He wasn’t in bed. I had been hurrying to the bathroom that I didn’t even notice he wasn’t in bed.

" Hey, I hope you know some of us have actual training schedules. "I shouted, knocking louder.

The water shut off, and I waited for the door to open. But instead, Luca's voice was muffled through the door.

"Well, some of us have actual championships to win."

"If you don’t come out right now, I will break down this door."

"Try it, and I will tell everyone you were desperate to see me naked again."

I pressed my forehead against the wood and counted to ten. When the door finally opened, steam billowed out, and Luca emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist again, dripping water on the floor I'd just cleaned last night.

"You're a menace," I said, pushing past him.

He caught my arm, just barely, his fingers warm and damp.

"You're a morning person. That's the real crime here."

I grabbed the nearest towel and threw it at his face. He laughed, catching it one-handed, and I slammed the bathroom door behind me.

By day three, we'd established a pattern. A terrible, petty, strangely rhythmic pattern, and I was certain that we would tear at each other’s throats before something is done about the accommodations issues.”

Whenever he stole my cereal, I made sure I hid his phone charger in places he would not think of. When he borrowed my shampoo and used half the bottle, I moved his hockey stick to the laundry room. He retaliated by eating the last of my granola bars and leaving the wrappers on my pillow like a psychopath.

"I woke up at 5 a.m. every morning to train," he complained every morning.

"Normal people sleep until eight," he groaned from his bed, face buried in his pillow, voice thick with exhaustion.

"Normal people don't snore like a chainsaw," I shot back, lacing my shoes.

"I don't snore."

"You absolutely snore. I have recordings."

He sat up, hair wild, eyes narrow. "You wouldn't dare."

"Piss me off one more time, and I will have your videos on the billboard. Trust me, that would sell better.”

"If you dare do that, I’ll make this academy a hell for you.”

I smiled, knowing that my message has sunk in. I grabbed my gym bag and left.

The bathroom became our battlefield.

I would be brushing my teeth, and he'd walk in like I wasn't there, reaching around me for his toothpaste, his arm brushing my shoulder, his reflection smirking behind mine in the mirror. I would be in the shower, and he'd bang on the door claiming he was going to die of toothpaste deprivation.

Then, one evening, my phone rang. I checked the caller ID; it was Mom. The screen glowed with her name, and my chest tightened in that old, familiar way.

Luca was sprawled on his bed, scrolling through something on his tablet, earbuds in. He didn't look up. I couldn't afford for him to hear my conversations with my mom. I grabbed my jacket and stepped into the hallway, pressing the phone to my ear.

"Hey, Mom."

"Aria." Her voice was thin, stretched tight. "I didn't want to call. I know you're settling in."

"What's wrong?"

She took a deep breath before speaking again. "It is Mylo, your brother.”

I could feel the tension rising inside of me. Mylo had an autoimmune condition, and ever since he was born, Mom had exhausted all her earnings and savings on his treatment.

"What about Mylo this time?"

"Mylo's treatment: they want to start the new protocol next month. And we don't have enough money. Not even close."

I closed my eyes, leaning against the wall. "How much?"

She named a number that made my stomach drop. It was more than my scholarship money and her salary for a year combined.

"Don't worry, Mom." My voice came out steady, practiced. "I'll find a way."

"Aria, you can't… you should focus on your studies."

"I will." I opened my eyes, staring at the hallway's industrial carpet. "I promise. Just... keep me posted on his numbers, okay?"

"Well, there’s more to let you know. I got mail yesterday.” She said and burst into tears even more.

I could feel my heart beating hard. I pressed the phone against my ear. "What was in the mail?”

"Your sponsors might be pulling out soon; they sent a warning."

It felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore. When I hung up, I stood there for a long moment, breathing in and out. I pushed off the wall and turned toward our door. Luca was standing in the hallway, leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed, earbuds dangling around his neck. He wasn't looking at me. He was looking at the floor, jaw tight, something unreadable in his expression.

How long had he been there? He opened his mouth to say something, but then he said quietly, not meeting my eyes. "I forgot my key."

I nodded, too tired to question it, and unlocked the door. He followed me inside, silently.

For the first time since we'd become roommates...

Luca Silver didn't have a single sarcastic comment.