More Than Roommates
The truth is, I just need air.
My room’s dim, the curtains half-drawn. I sit on the bed, open my phone, and scroll until I find one of the videos Seth sent us in the dorm, where he was trying to teach me how to dribble and me pretending not to give a shit about his favorite sport. He laughs at something I say, head tilted back, sunlight cutting across his jaw.
I hit play again. And again.
“Dude,” a voice says behind me.
I jump, turning to see Jamie standing in the doorway with a bowl of chips. She squints at the screen. “You and your roommate were close, huh?”