Page 12 of A Deal with my Bully Roommate

I feel like it’s a final goodbye. Our deal ends tonight, and with that, perhaps our troubled connection. I turn to the crowd, my heart hammering against my ribs like it’s trying to escape. I see only once face that matters—Avery’s. She’s standing there, watching me with those intense, dark eyes that look right through me.

“I’m sorry, Avery. If I could go back and undo everything, I did to you in high school, I would. I know you’ll never forgive me, and that’s okay. I just want you to know I regret everything I said. I was afraid, and I was alone, and you were like a ball of light that I wanted to grasp.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Chloe looks like she’s seen a ghost. I don't wait for a rebuttal.

Avery takes a step forward, and to everyone’s surprise, she grabs my hand. I look up, stunned, as she says, “We need to talk, Harper.”

And then, she drags me out of the party, away from all the prying eyes.

Back in Dorm 111, the adrenaline has faded, leaving a raw, vibrating silence. We haven't turned on the lights. The moonlight through the window is enough. Avery lets go of my hand, and I stand a few inches from her.

"The thirty days are up, Harper," she whispers, her eyes finding mine. “I guess that means you’re a free bird now. No more pleasing me. No more 6 a.m. coffee runs. No more acting as my assistant to pay off a debt."

My heart sinks. A cold dread washes over me. This is it. The debt is paid. The contract is over. I’ve made my public declaration, and now she’s going to tell me that she’s satisfied, that she’s seen me crawl and now she’s done.

"Yeah," I say, my voice thick with unshed tears, not at all happy at the prospect of not being Harper’s secretary. Truth be told, I liked helping her. Liked always hovering around her like we belonged together. This month helped me see everything I did wrong. I saw Avery smile, saw the way her face flushes when she’s passionate and kissing me like it’s just us in the world. I saw how smart she is, how hard she works, how ethereal she looks when she wakes up next to me in the morning. I can’t un-see any of those things, which is why I must do this. "I’ll... I can move my things out tomorrow if you want. Hersha and I talked about switching rooms. After all that I’ve put you through, you might want to forget me.” I raise my eyes, fearing what I’ll see there. Avery is still as a stone. “I know I’ve been a lot. And I know you haven't forgiven me for everything. Thanks for not telling the dean about my trying to steal your paper, again. I…I’m grateful for that." My voice trembles, but I remain steady in my resolve. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

I make a move to get away, but Avery grabs my hand and pulls me toward her. My eyes are teary when I look up at her, and she knows. Knows that I’ve fallen for her.

"God, you’re an idiot, Harper Price. Did you think I wanted you to move out?”

“Didn’t you? I know it’s hard for you to live with your bully, no matter how amazing the sex is. You said understanding isn't forgiving," I mutter. “And believe me, I get it.”

"It isn't," she agrees. "But—”

I look down at my shoes, the silence feeling like a death sentence.

"But," Avery continues, stepping closer until our chests are touching, "I don’t want you to go.” I blink at her, my heart speeding up. “I see you’ve been trying to fix everything. What you did at the party tonight, I can’t imagine you doing that a month ago.” I smile. "I know you’re trying, Harper, and that’s enough for me. This room isn’t the same without you. The truth is, I like spending time with you, more than I thought I could. Our shared conversations, all those kisses, the way you purse your lips when you’re annoyed…I look forward to it all. I don’t want to go back to being enemies. I don’t want you to move out.” She swallows. “Now that you’ve graduated from being my assistant, I have another role open for you.”

“What’s that?” I ask, my heart hammering in my chest, hope flooding me.

“Be my girlfriend, Harper Price.” She stuns me by saying. “For real. No deals, no debt, no blackmail. Just us."

I freeze. I look up, my eyes filling with tears that I finally can't stop. "You... you want to date me? After everything?"

"I want to date the girl who just told the whole college she loves me without even using those words," Avery says, a genuine, beautiful smile breaking across her face. "I want to date the girl who draws me in secret and cooks great steaks, and dislikes unfinished music. I want the real Harper. I think she and I get along pretty well."

A tear rolls down my cheek before I can even catch myself. “You should change your major to Literature,” I say, wiping it off. “You’re so good with words.”

Avery laughs as she takes a step toward me. I fall into her arms naturally, holding her like a koala as more tears flow down my cheeks.

“Thank you,” I whisper, burying my face in her shoulder. For the first time in my life, I don't feel like I'm performing. I don't feel like I'm being measured. I'm just Harper, and for some reason, the girl I’ve loved since I was sixteen thinks that’s enough. “I didn’t want to leave either. I love you, Avery. It’s okay if you don’t love me back, but you’re the only one who sees me from who I am and can tolerate the real me.”

Avery squeezes my shoulder. “Between us, the real you is much better than the fake you.”

I hug her tighter, unable to believe this is real. I’ve been given a second chance, and I plan on making the most of it. As we stand there in the quiet of our room, the weight of the last four years finally feels light. The cage is open. And for the first time, I’m not afraid to fly.

CHAPTER 5

Avery

If you had told me a month ago that I’d be waking up every morning with Harper Price’s blonde hair tickling my nose, I would have checked you into the psych ward. But here we are.

Dating Harper—the real Harper—is like finally solving a complex case that’s been haunting me for years. We aren't just compatible; we’re a perfect, chaotic match. In the library, we’re a two-woman power cell, debating the finer points of Contract Law until the librarians give us the death stare. In bed, the fire we discovered during the "deal" hasn't flickered once; if anything, it’s turned into a steady, intense heat that leaves me breathless.

She doesn't just banter with me; she gets me. She knows that when I’m stressed, I need silence and a very specific type of sour candy. She knows that when I’m proud of a paper, I need her to challenge my conclusion just so I can prove her wrong. The word "bully" has finally started to fade from my mental dictionary, replaced by "girlfriend." I’ve forgiven her. Not because I’ve forgotten the past, but because I’m too busy loving the person she’s become when she’s with me.

The student center is buzzing with the usual mid-morning energy—espresso machines hissing, students frantic over finals—when the temperature seems to drop twenty degrees.