The Roommate, Kiersten Modglin [best books for 20 year olds .txt] 📗

at all. I can’t really let it slide because they were only able to do it a little bit.” He coughed into the phone, the sound growing quieter as I imagined he must be leaning away from the device to cough again. When he came back, he went on, “Look, I don’t really understand most of the technical side of things, as you know, but I can’t look weak right now. Someone didn’t do their job, and it’s Oliver who’s in charge of making sure they do do their jobs. I can’t just let this go.” His voice was filled with agitation, as if he were trying to convince himself as well as me.

“I understand what you’re saying. At the end of the day, you’re the one who has to make the decision, and it’s not one I envy.” I sucked in a breath through my teeth, narrowing my gaze on the scratch in the hardwood between my feet. “I’m just glad it didn’t end up as bad as we’d thought it could be.”

“You and me both,” he said with a heavy breath. “All right, well, I guess I’ll see you in the morning, unless you’re planning to come back in this evening.”

“Yep, I’ll see you in the morning.” I ended the call, ignoring the question in his last statement and clicking the button on the side of my phone to lock it. Just as the screen went dark, a noise from the television caused me to jolt. I looked over at it, staring at a computer-engineered man dressed in combat gear on the screen.

Elias held a controller in his hands, his legs crossed in front of him as he stared at the screen. He grinned wildly, then looked at me, his eyes widening. “Sorry, did I interrupt you?” he asked, talking loudly over the noise.

“Nope, I was just finishing up,” I called back, practically shouting though we were mere feet from each other.

“I thought so.” He grabbed the remote control and muted the TV. “What was that about?”

“Nothing. Just a work fire,” I said, tucking my phone into my pocket.

“No shit? The building? Or just a small one?”

It took me a moment to realize what he was asking. “Oh, shoot. No, neither. A figurative one. We thought we had a problem, but it’s taken care of.”

He let out a small laugh, and the amused look on his face as he chewed the candy in his mouth made me angrier than ever. Why was I feeling so frustrated with him? “You’re so funny,” he said, his tone chipper.

“Funny how?”

“So serious all the time.” He put his arms up near his chest and folded them in as if he were a marching soldier as he imitated me, his lips drawn into a tight circle. “We thought we had a problem, but it’s taken care of.”

I ran a thumb over my lips, not joining him in his laughter. If I didn’t know he was my age, I could swear he was still a teenager sometimes. The childish way he acted irked me beyond belief. “Yeah, look…I’ve gotta get going. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

He laughed again, reaching out to stop me as I turned. “Wait! Sorry, did I make you mad? I was just teasing. I didn’t realize you were so sensitive.”

“I’m not!”

“You’re not mad, or you’re not sensitive?”

“Either,” I snapped. “It’s just been a long day. I’m tired. I need to run a few errands.”

He held his hands up in defeat. “No worries. I should’ve read the room better. I’m bad about that, sorry.”

“It’s fine. Honestly.” I exhaled a calming breath. “Do you need anything while I’m out?”

I’d already turned away from him and was only half listening as I made my way toward the door, pulling my phone back from my pocket when he said, “What happened today?”

“Hm?” I spun back around, trying to keep my frustration hidden.

“That’s the second or third time you’ve said you had a bad day. What happened?”

None of your business. It was no wonder he didn’t have any friends. “Nothing really. I was just busy, that’s all. I usually take a bit to decompress after work.”

“Ah, okay. It just sounded like you might’ve needed someone to vent to. I don’t mean to be nosy, but with Addy not around, I thought you might want someone new to talk to. I mean, we’re friends, right? Friends vent to each other.” He paused. “At least, that’s what I’ve seen on TV. What do I know?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you. It’s just work stuff—”

“You think I wouldn’t understand?”

“No. It’s just private. Not really my business to talk about.” Or yours to ask about.

He was quiet for a moment, studying me carefully. Finally, he inhaled sharply, the amusement never leaving his eyes, and said, “You know, I had a girlfriend once who swore that there were no secrets that should be kept between best friends. She used to tell me that anything that happened between us was fair game to talk in depth about when it came to her and her best friend, Elizabeth.”

I was silent, unsure what that had to do with what we were talking about at all, but he left me no time to guess as he went on.

“Do you believe that’s true?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I guess, yeah. Addy’s like that with her mom. Vivienne. She tells her everything.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness from my tone. Though I’d never admit it to Addy, I’d always partially blame her mom for our separation. Part of that was due to the bitterness I felt about having no real relationship with my own family while her mother was her best friend. But a more significant part was just that I found it so unbelievably obnoxious that her mother was such a huge part of our life. Why should I be made to feel guilty about my job when her mother was practically her second job?

“So, why don’t you think