The Necklace

Chapter 2: Roommates

"Shit," Diya whispered under her breath as she searched her entire room for the necklace. "Fuck!"

"Good morning to you too, roomie," Samantha grumbled from under the covers as she turned to look at her stressed out companion tossing her sheets around. "Are you okay?"

"No!" She whined, "No, Sam. I am not okay, I lost my necklace."

"So? Buy a new one."

Diya ignored her roommates suggestion and went to the closet to see if it was in her jacket or any other place. When she failed to find it, she left the room to search the bathroom down the hall.

In the midst of foggy mirrors and wet, probably fungus-covered, floors, Diya found a necklace. It was silver, or a pretend silver that someone probably got at Forever 21. Defeated, she returned to her dorm room to rest on her bed from all the anxiety she faced today.

"How was your first class?" Samantha asked her as she got out of bed and into some normal clothing for once. Samantha was a wild spirit, which was what Diya always admired. She didn't give a shit about what other people thought and wore the most offensive outfits. However, over the past few months she'd steadily grown to collect basic shirts. White, black, brown. Long, cropped, backless or turtleneck, you would find them all in her closet. She was growing up, as Diya always liked to tease.

"I fucked my teaching assistant..."

"What? New record. Let's go," she smiled proudly, lifting her hand for a high-five. Diya smacked her hand away and tried to explain the situation as best as she could remember it.

"So, I'm there at the party last night. You'd gone off with Jessica to get more beer and I was sitting on the couch," she started, twirling her hair with her index finger. She spread herself on the bed so she was laying comfortably on her stomach, as if she knew she would be there for a long time. Samantha sat on the edge of Diya's bed, close enough for her to whisper.

"And so, he comes up to me. He asks me how I like the college, you know the basics — what's your name, what year are you, blah blah blah," Diya continues, "and of course we get interrupted by Emina. Stupid bitch always trying to get the last word in any conversation she can," she rolled her eyes.

"Bro, I fucking hate that slut," Samantha groaned.

"So," Diya tried to push forward before Samantha could go on a rant. "I excuse myself and then once I reach the bathroom, I notice there is a line. The teaching assistant, Khalil, comes over and tells me there's a bathroom upstairs."

Samantha squealed, "No way. You? With him? In the bathroom? You're a freak."

"No, we didn't do it there. He just took me. Then after he's still there and he tries to talk to me. Of course I'm blasted at this point. And I just start looking at his lips. They're so nice, and plump....and just perfect. So I pull his shirt towards me and make him kiss me."

Samantha moved closer, as if she were going to enter into the past to see the scene unraveling before her. Diya laughed at her roommate's reaction and continued.

"Khalil is kissing me. Then he looks both ways and opens one of the bedroom doors. He tells me he's been living here for a couple of months and it's his room."

"What did it look like?" Samantha asked her.

Diya tried to recall the wall color, which was a faint baby blue and the trim coated a flat white. Obviously, the house was one of those cheap frat houses any guy can rent off of FaceBook, but it didn't really matter. It was neat, neater than most guys.

"He didn't have navy sheets though," Diya pointed out. "They were a nice light, I think gray?"

"Oh, so he washes his ass then?"

"Girl, he's brown of course he washes his ass," Diya chuckled at her remark.

"Nah, never trust a man. Go on," Samantha urged her.

"He's on the bed. His legs are spread open, just a little bit. And you could see, like, every muscle pressed against his clothes. Especially his bulge," Diya giggled and pressed her head to her pillow, as if she'd never seen a man so impressed or turned on by her.

"Was it big?"

"Oh my God," Diya whined, "Sam!"

"Bitch!"

"I think he was like maybe 6 or 7 inches," she tried to recount. "All I know is, the moment he started I couldn't get enough."

"Now, I need some. I need to grow my roster."

"Samantha, you have literally 10 guys on there," Diya complained to her friend. "How many more do you need?"

"As many as a bitch can get. Who cares? I'm twenty-two. Tell me to calm down when I'm forty," she replied. Sam got off her roommate's bed and walked towards the mirror to do her makeup.

"Anyways, I woke up and left after. It was terrible, he didn't even shave!"

"He didn't shave his balls?"

"His toes," Diya corrected.

"Ew, why is that like, ten times worse?" Sam gagged. "It sounds like sleeping with him went well otherwise though. Ten points for Hufflepuff."

Diya threw her plushy bear at Sam and rolled to the other side of the bed. She'd been through enough. All she wanted to do was nap which she planned to do until she was disturbed by a phone call from no other than her mother.

"Mom," she said in Bengali, trying to signal to Sam that she was in an important call. "How are you?"

"Diya, why haven't you been texting? I move back home and you stop talking fo me. What kind of daughter did I raise?"

"Sorry," Diya replied. Although it was clear she did not give a single fuck.

"Listen, I'm coming back home. Prepare for me to come next week. Next Friday, wait for me at JFK airport," she informed her daughter. Diya's heart fell to her stomach.

"What? Why?"

"Your brother is getting married, aren't you aware? I posted it today on Facebook. Tsk, tsk. What have you been doing?" She asked her daughter.

Diya immediately opened up her phone and went to search for her brother. There it was. Him standing with a girl, beautiful and way out of his league, with an engagement ring on. She was slight, and looked very innocent. Diya frowned and looked closer between them. There had to have been at least a ten year age gap between them.

Ekrem followed their mother's footsteps and became a doctor but a cardiac doctor instead of a neurologist. Their parents wanted them both to be doctors but Diya could never find a way to get past the potential to lose a patient. It bothered her and it bothered everyone else who wanted her to become a doctor.

"Who is this?" She asked her mother. Diya listened to the various stories that her mother heard from their village. The standard, good girl virgin bride marrying the elite, rich, American man. What a cliché. Ugh.

"Well, anyway. Just letting you know. We need to get on all the details later. It'll be great! You'll meet so many people. Maybe you can get engaged too," her mother joked. Diya groaned and told her she would pick her up. After hanging up, Diya scrolled once more through her older brothers profile and then screamed into her pillow.

"What the hell?" Samantha asked as she tapped her roommate's leg. "What happened?"

"My brother's ruining my life, as usual."