Page 13 of A Deal with my Bully Roommate

I see her before Harper does. A woman in a tailored cream suit that probably costs more than my mother’s house, her hair pulled back into a bun so tight it looks painful. It’s Eleanor Price. She doesn't walk; she glides through the crowd like a shark in a koi pond.

"Harper," the woman says. Her voice isn't loud, but it cuts through the room like a piano wire.

Harper, who was currently laughing at a meme I’d shown her, goes absolutely rigid. The color drains from her face so fast I think she might faint. She stands up slowly, her chair screeching against the tile.

"Mother," Harper whispers. "What are you doing here?"

"Your father and I haven't heard from you in three days, Harper. Your phone goes straight to voicemail," Eleanor says, ignoring me entirely as if I’m part of the furniture. "The Sterling family is hosting a gala this weekend to announce the merger and your engagement to Marcus. We have a fitting at four. Grab your things."

I stand up beside Harper, my hand instinctively finding hers under the table. She’s trembling—a fine, violent shiver that makes my heart ache. I can feel the years of conditioning, the "Price" decorum, fighting against the girl I’ve come to know.

"I... I can't go, Mother," Harper says, her voice small but gaining a jagged edge. "I’m not marrying Marcus. I told Father I didn't want this."

Eleanor’s eyes flash, a cold, sharp blue. "What you 'want' is a luxury we don't indulge, Harper. You have a legacy to uphold. Now, stop this childish rebellion and come to the car before this becomes a scene."

A few students have stopped to watch. The silence is spreading. Harper looks down at our joined hands, and for a second, I fear she’ll pull away. But she doesn't. She grips my fingers so hard her knuckles turn white. She looks at me, and I give her a small, firm nod. I'm right here.

Harper takes a deep breath. She looks back at her mother, and this time, she doesn't flinch.

"No," Harper says. It’s a small word, but it ripples through the student center. "I’m not the daughter you want, Mother. I’m not the 'Price' asset.”

“Harper, where is this coming from?” her mom asks, taken back.

I see the fear in Harper’s eyes replaced by courage as I squeeze her hand. With a stubborn set to her jaw, she says, “There’s something you need to know, mom. Something I’ve been wanting to tell you for years.” There’s a long pause during which Eleanor’s eyes flicker between Harper and me. “I am a lesbian.” Harper meets her mom’s eyes when she says those words. “I like women, not men.”

The silence that follows is deafening. The espresso machine stops hissing. Every head in the center is turned toward us. Harper’s voice is shaking, but she pushes through the fear.

"A lesbian," Eleanor repeats softly, the word sounding foreign in her mouth. She looks at me, really looking at me this time, her gaze assessing and confused. “That is a surprise. And is she…?” She gestures toward me.

"Yes, Avery and I are together. Actually, I’m in love with her," Harper says, lifting our joined hands above the table for everyone—and her mother—to see. " I’m not marrying Marcus, mom, because I can’t. There is someone else I like, and I’m tired of hiding who I am. I want to be with Avery and stop hiding now.” If that’s a disappointment to the family, then... then I guess I’m a disappointment."

I hold my breath, bracing for the explosion. I expect the "Price" wrath—the cutting off of tuition, the disowning, the theatrical exit.

But Eleanor Price doesn't scream. She looks at our joined hands, then at her daughter’s face—seeing, perhaps for the first time, the raw, terrified honesty in Harper’s eyes. She looks around at the staring students and then back at Harper. Her expression isn't angry; it's... stunned. Disoriented.

Eleanor takes a slow, steadying breath. She adjusts the lapel of her blazer, the mask of the society matriarch wavering just for a second. "This is... quite unexpected, Harper. Your father and I... we were under a certain impression for nineteen years."

She pauses, the silence stretching out between them.

"I won't pretend to understand this," Eleanor says, her voice regained its polished edge, but the venom is missing. "And I certainly don't know what to tell the Sterlings. But... I suppose I’ll need some time to process this. We both will. If this is who you are, then, we have no coice but to accept it." She looks at Harper, a flicker of something—perhaps a trace of maternal recognition—passing through her eyes. "I’ll tell your father you’re staying here to study. We’ll speak next week."

Without another word, and without looking back, Eleanor Price turns and glides out of the student center.

The room stays silent for a heartbeat longer before the low hum of gossip begins to swell. Harper doesn't hear it. She collapses back into her chair, her chest heaving as she lets out a sound that’s half-sob, half-laugh.

"I did it," she whispers, her face glowing with a sudden, radiant elation. "Avery, I actually said it. I’m out."

She looks at me, and the transformation is staggering. The "Golden Girl" weight that has been crushing her shoulders for years seems to have evaporated. Her eyes are bright, her smile wide and real. She looks free.

"You did," I say, pulling her into a hug right there in front of the entire campus. "You were incredible."

"I feel... light," she laughs against my neck, her arms wrapping around me. "Like I’ve been holding my breath for ten years and I finally just... exhaled."

I pull back to look at her, my heart full of a pride I never thought I’d feel for Harper Price. She’s not my bully. She’s not my assistant. She’s a girl who just chose her own happiness over a kingdom, and I get to be the one she shares it with.

“It’s all thanks to you,” she says. “Without you, I’d never have found the courage to tell my mom who I was. Spending time with you, that deal…it helped me confront what really want in life.” Her clear eyes twinkle at me, and in that moment, I know what I want too. I want her. I want to love Harper without the baggage of the past.

"So," I tease, wiping a tear from her cheek. "Does this mean I still get my 6 a.m. coffee, or has the 'girlfriend' status retired that?"