Just Roommates Charity Ferrell Novels & Stories

I looked at Raihan and scoffed. “Trust me, I noticed.” "Try not to cross paths with Raihan and his friends," Ethan said, lowering his voice slightly. "Trust me, he's not someone you want on your bad side." A faint smile tugged at my lips. "That's unfortunate." Ethan frowned. "Why?" I shook my head, amused despite myself. "Because he's my roommate." For a moment, the table fell silent. Then Ethan blinked. "You're kidding." "I wish I was."

The vodka-punch-mess I’m drinking. Then— “Seth would hate this playlist,” Ramon mutters, scrolling through the queue. “Guy’s got the music taste of a divorced dad going through a crisis.” My body tenses before I can think. Cup halfway to my mouth. Tracey glances at me. “You good?” “Yeah,” I say too quickly. “Just didn’t expect… that name to come up.” “Oh. Right. Roommate situation,” she says casually, then turns to the others. “Alex lives with my cousin.”

“I know.” “Be nice, Allison!” Charlie chides before smiling at me. “You good? Ally forwarded your text to me.” Of course she did! I intentionally did not text Charlie. After what Ace did to him, I didn't want to include him in my “escape” plan. “I think I am going to be homeless soon. I don't know what to do, guys. I have no money.” “You can stay with me.” Charlie blurts. “My roommate is really nice.”

"Who's this?" The little red head dipped under his chin, and reached up to smack his arm with vengeance. It was cute, that she thought she was scary, and he simply waited for her to introduce him. Curious what she would say. "This is Jackson, he's our new roommate, Randy invited him." She said it simply, and Jackson felt oddly disappointed. Well, that was lame. He always liked a little spice. Leaning his elbows down over her chair, with arms cradled innocently on either side of her silky strands, he cooed. "Don't let the princess fool you, I'm also her very, very, best friend. Why, we're almost inseparable now."

—cheesy as hell, but the room roared anyway. When the host called for a break, Mara grabbed the mic again. “Okay, listen up,” she said, voice carrying over the chatter. “We’ve got a special guest tonight. Not reading—just here. Dante Cruz and Eli Summers. They’re the reason we’re all crammed in here instead of doing normal Friday shit. So if you’ve got love, give it. If you’ve got questions, keep them to yourself. And if you’ve got hate… door’s that way.”

“Roddy, don’t be crude. This counts as charity, a good deed, just like how you donate to our next-door neighbors. “What? You can be the only good guy draining our savings for a poor widow and her daughter, but I’m wrong for helping an even more struggling college student?” As his face went red, I poured fuel on the fire. “Why is it charity when you do it but not when I do? Are you coming at me because your neighbors are a young, beautiful widow and her daughter, while I’m sponsoring a guy?” “As if!” I must have struck a nerve because, caught in a moment, Roddy raised his hand at me. Looking up, I narrowed my eyes at his suspended arm. “Hit me, Roddy. I dare you to.”

Hayden Jensen—the rich kid I shared an apartment with—had gone off to Kingsley City, leaving the whole place to me. I wasted no time calling over Brock Hayes, a tanned six-foot varsity jock, Julian Reed, the gentle campus heartthrob, and Noah Bennett, a sweet underclassman with puppy eyes. That made four of us—just enough to get a poker game going. Julian suggested that the loser post an ugly selfie on social media. Before long, their photos were flooding the feed.

When I entered my car I heard my phone ring seeing the caller ID I knew who shall I go to now. “Hey man. It’s been a while since we have done this” Fred said hugging me. We were at the club. The basketball court to be more specific. We came here a lot to have fun and to distract ourselves from the stress of work. “Yeah. It’s really been a long time” I said. “Did something happen? Something seems off with you today” he said. Fred is one of my very best friends. He was there with me through it all. When I and Sarah broke up, I was seeking for money so I worked as his tutor after my own work and we became the best of friends. He knows everything about my story with Sarah except that he doesn’t

"Avis, could you grab my body wash? It’s on my desk. I'm busy showering; I can't go over to get it." On the balcony, my roommate, Linda Lowe, was indulging in her cold shower, basking in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Our dorm wasn’t on a high floor, and anyone passing below could easily glance up to enjoy the view. But Linda didn’t care. Far from it—she seemed to revel in it, swaying her body with exaggerated movements as though she couldn’t wait to flaunt herself.

"Coach actually believed us! He expects us to move our stuff into an apartment that doesn't fucking exist!" I am literally going to go to jail for fraud. Can you go to jail for lying to a hockey coach? God, my head hurts. "I mean, it's pretty funny," Marcus snickered, grabbing a bacon bagel from the bag. "You two as domestic roommates in a private pad? What, are you guys gonna split the grocery bill and buy matching bath towels?" While Marcus was cracking up, Fred remained standing by the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. His sharp, dark eyes drifted slowly from Liam's flushed neck to Raphael’s quiet, unbothered posture.