Psycho Roommates Novels & Stories

I feel like I’m cheating on Alex if I am with you. Eva didn’t say the words out of her throat. She opened and closed her mouth to say something but nothing came out. “Never mind. Sit down.” She finally said and walked away towards the kitchen. She rent a small apartment for herself. The living room was the main room of this apartment. To the left from the door is the kitchen with mini bar on it which function as the dining table with two chairs. Across the living room, the are two doors. One is for the bedroom and another for the bathroom.

Clutching her phone, she burst into tears and ran into the bathroom. From outside, I could vaguely hear her making a complaint call. Her voice was nothing like usual—pinched and cloying, unpleasant to listen to. Grinding her teeth, Joey dropped back into her chair. The other roommate, Carmen Radler, asked worriedly, "She isn't really dating Nick, is she? We really can't afford to offend someone like him." Joey snorted. "So what if she is? We're in the right—what's there to be afraid of? Does he really think he can bend the law? We got into this university on our own merit!"

“We got a fake medical report from her.” I silently hoped that wouldn't land the doctor into trouble. “You don't look yourself, man.” Silver sat next to me. “What's up?” “Nothing, I'm sure I look okay enough.” Mark sat on the other side next to me so I was in between them. “Tell us, money?” “No,” I debated on whether to tell them. “It's my roommate.” “What's up with her?” “She's a prude.” They laughed out loud. “So you've failed to bang her?”

Jude lifted his head away from his phone and answered. “159 opposite room 169.” “Wonderful numbering. It's right here. Identical shit!” Sean mumbled, which caused the three to send him a glance for his profanity. Room 159 is a private room. Room 169 is a well-soundproofed private party hall. No matter how loud the volume of a song or noise is, it can't spill out of the private room. Zenos knew, and the thought of it made him clench his fist.

The dorm room door clicked shut at 1:47 a.m., the sound cutting through the humid stillness like a snapped twig. Jake froze mid-stroke, fist wrapped tight around his thick, leaking cock, phone screen casting blue light across his bare chest and stomach. The tiny single-room double in West Hall felt even smaller tonight, bunk beds crammed against one wall, desks shoved against the other, barely enough floor space for two guys who’d spent eight months pretending they didn’t notice each other’s bodies in the mirrors, the communal showers, the way sweat clung after pickup basketball.

The ones nobody wants. The hallway smells like lavender detergent and fake calm—pheromone blockers trying to convince everyone to behave. Doors slam. Laughter echoes. Someone's playing pop music at war volume. I pull my hoodie tighter and keep my head down. Don't look at anyone. Don't breathe too deep. Don't give anyone a reason to notice you. Room 314. I stop in front of the door, inhale deeply, and turn the handle. Inside, the room looks like an IKEA starter pack—two beds, two desks, two wardrobes. One side already looks like a unicorn threw up on it—pink comforter, fairy lights, perfectly stacked textbooks.

I scrolled past all of it to the room allocations because that was the part that actually mattered the most. Room 2—Connie Reid. I scanned through for my other roommates, trying to guess who—among the girls I saw on the profile picture page—it would be. Room 2—Kyrian Maddox. My stomach dropped as I read it again to confirm if I read it wrong the first time. I didn't. I scanned through the other rooms and noticed the same pattern, a boy and a girl, the rooms were mixed. I sat completely still for a moment with my phone in my hand and the realization that I was going to be sleeping in the same room as a guy with a sexual assault record.

Her evening might have been more interesting if Olivia had attended, but the brunette was off on a date with her parents instead. Olivia's mom was amazing, Kaitlyn wished she could have went too. With a sigh, set down her glass. At least, she could enjoy the music playing thoughtout the large room. Kaitlyn had to admit the psychology department knew how to decorate. Rather than an expo, the large, conference room looked like it had been dressed for a party. The glass décor was pristine, and the sparkling champagne flutes set the mood. Each presenter was dressed in his or her finest attire and the guests looked as though they were going to the opera. Kaitlyn glanced down at her own pencil ski

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.”

" In an instant, her face went bright red as though she was being strangled. There was a series of mocking chuckles coming from the other end of the call. Theo was not the only person who heard her emotional speech. "I know that girl. She's always trying to seduce guys left and right. She's positively starving for a man's affection." "She's so manipulative and ugly. I knew she was rather sick in the head, but I didn't think she'd be like this while acting all meek and fragile in public." "What rotten luck to have such a roommate."