Page 21 of How I Ruined Everything by Kissing My Roommate

"We're done here," I snapped, my chest heaving. I didn't wait for a rebuttal. I shoved past her, the weight of my portfolio suddenly feeling like a leaden anchor.

"See ya, Iris!" Riley called out, her voice returning to that cheerful, public mask.

I didn't look back. I practically ran the rest of the way to the dorms, my mind a chaotic blur of Riley’s words. A lot of work. Bored of the gloom. An experiment.

By the time I reached Room 418, the joy of the gallery date felt like a lifetime ago. I stood outside the door, my hand trembling as I reached for the handle. I could hear Sophie inside—she was humming a pop song, the sound of her opening the fridge clinking cheerfully.

She was light. She was sun. And I was the girl who had spent the last year building a fortress out of turpentine and resentment.

Was I leading her on? Was I just a 'project' to her, a way for her to feel good about herself by 'fixing' the broken girl in the room?

I didn't open the door. I couldn't. Instead, I leaned my forehead against the cool wood of the hallway, feeling the old walls I thought I’d torn down starting to rise again, brick by agonizing brick.

The hum of the heater in the room felt like a low-frequency warning. Since my run-in with Riley, the walls of the dorm had started to feel less like a sanctuary and more like a pressure cooker. Riley’s words—experiment, bored, gloom—were on a loop in my head, a poisonous soundtrack to every moment I spent with Sophie.

Sophie, oblivious to the ghost I’d encountered in the hallway, was in high spirits. She was humming as she packed a small duffel bag, her energy light and expansive.

"So," she said, turning toward me with a bright, hopeful look. "My parents called. They’re doing the whole massive turkey dinner for Thanksgiving, and they told me I should bring someone. I was thinking... maybe you’d want to come? It’s only a two-hour drive."

I felt my heart skip a beat, but not in the good way. It felt like a tripwire. "Your parents?"

"Yeah. And if that feels like too much too soon," she continued, undeterred by my stiffening posture, "Mark and Maya are doing a serious movie marathon this Friday. They specifically asked if 'the couple' was coming. It would be nice to just... be out with them. Officially."

Officially. Couple. Parents. The words hit me like stones. My breath hitched. This was the visibility Riley warned me about. This was the part where I became a real person in Sophie’s real life, not just a secret kept behind the door of Room 418. If I went, I was in. And if I was in, I could be thrown out.

"I can't," I said, my voice sharper than I intended.

Sophie paused, a sock halfway into her bag. "The movie night? That’s fine, we can—"

"No, Sophie. All of it," I snapped, standing up so abruptly my chair scraped harshly against the floor. "The parents, the double dates... it’s too much."

Sophie’s brow furrowed, her confusion quickly sharpening into concern. "Iris, it’s just a dinner. I thought we were doing great. I understand if you don’t want to meet my parents yet, but after the gallery, I thought—"

"What did you think?" I barked, the panic finally boiling over. "That we’re some perfect little pair? You’re moving way too fast, Sophie. We haven’t even defined this yet and you want me to go home with you for Thanksgiving? Are you sure you're trying to slot me into your perfect life like I'm just another trophy for the shelf."

Sophie flinched as if I’d slapped her. She stood up straight, her hands dropping to her sides. "A trophy? Is that really what you think is happening here? Iris, where is this coming from? I thought we were past this."

"I think you're bored!" I yelled, Riley's poison finally leaking out. "I think you like the challenge making me open up, but what happens when the novelty wears off? What happens when you realize I’m actually just gloomy and difficult and work? You’ll go back to your bright, sunny world and leave me in the dark, just like everyone else."

For the first time since I’d met her, I saw Sophie’s patience shatter. Her eyes, usually so warm, flashed with a deep, searing hurt.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," she said, her voice trembling with frustration. "I’ve spent weeks walking on eggshells for you. I’ve waited for you to be ready. I’ve let you set every single boundary. You kissed me, Iris. You went on a date with me. You showed me your paintings and let me into your world, and now you’re mad because I’m trying to let you into mine?"

"It’s not the same!"

"It is exactly the same!" Sophie stepped toward me, her voice rising. "You’re using the lack of a label as a safety net. You think if you don't call me your girlfriend, then it doesn't count when you push me away. You're using your past as an excuse to avoid being accountable for the person standing right in front of you!"

I opened my mouth to defend myself, to tell her about Riley, my fears, but the words died in my throat. I was paralyzed. I was the one who had built the fortress, and now I was trapped inside it. I retreated into a cold, stony silence, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. I didn’t know how to trust her completely.

Sophie waited. She searched my face for a crack, for a sign that I was going to reach out. But I stayed frozen.

"Fine," she whispered, the anger replaced by a hollow, devastating disappointment. "If you want to be alone so badly, I won't stop you."

She grabbed her duffel bag and her keys. "I’m staying at Mark's tonight. I can't be in this room right now."

The door clicked shut behind her. The sound was quiet, but in the sudden vacuum of the room, it sounded like a cannon blast.

I stood in the center of the floor, surrounded by my canvases and the faint, lingering scent of her citrus shampoo. The silence was absolute. For a year, I had wanted this—to be left alone, to be safe. But as I looked at Sophie's empty desk and her unmade bed, a terrifying realization settled over me.