I Like You a Latte {Completed}

9 | Trying Something New

"Where have you been?" Beverly's roommate, Deb, asked suspiciously when Beverly walked inside their cramped dorm later that night. Her smile, which had been present since Griffin had walked her to the entrance of her dorm building, fell. He'd offered to walk her up, but she'd assured him that she'd be alright. The butterflies from the sweet smile he'd given her after murmuring, "I had a good time today, Beverly," were still bouncing around in her abdomen.

"Just out and about," she replied vaguely, throwing her backpack onto her bed and flopping into the swivel chair that sat in front of her desk. "Have a good day?" Not that the girl would respond, but being nice never hurt.

Sure enough, Deb simply scoffed and turned back to her textbooks, ignoring Beverly entirely. Holding back a sigh, Beverly turned to her own studying. She and Deb had only been roommates since the start of the fall semester, after Beverly's original roommate moved off campus and Deb's roommate petitioned for a new roommate.

"Deb's a nightmare," the girl had told Beverly in a hushed whisper. "Good luck." So far, those words had been true. Deb had sketchy young men and women coming by the dorm at all hours, was terribly nosy, avoided campus police like the plague, and seemed to hate Beverly more than anything.

Beverly could only hope to get a different roommate at the start of her junior  year, without getting caught up in whatever crimes Deb was committing in the meantime. In her peripheral vision, she watched as Deb texted almost frantically on her phone, before the other girl suddenly snapped straight up on her bed, eyeing the door as though it was about to explode.

"Shit," she muttered, and Beverly spun in her chair to face her roommate.

"What is it?"

"Shh!" Deb hissed, jumping from her bad and flipping off the light switch. "Be quiet, Beverly, or I swear to God—"

Beverly never found out what Deb was swearing to do, because the girl cut herself off when footsteps echoed down the hallway outside their room. Through the small sliver of light bleeding through the bottom of the door, Beverly watched with bated breath as a shadow appeared; the doorknob jiggled once, and then a male voice cursed before the shadow disappeared.

There was utter silence for several minutes, before Deb flipped on her lamp.

"What the hell was that?" Beverly snapped, all joy from her day forgotten as her eyes narrowed in on Deb's panicked features. "What are you getting into?"

The anxiousness shining in Deb's eyes was pushed away in the next second, replaced by the girl's usual mask of irritation. "Nothing. Mind your business, Beverly, God."

But Beverly didn't fancy getting caught as collateral damage. "It is my business, Deb—I get that we don't like each other, but if you're involved in some kind of trouble, you need to tell me before I get shot because of it." So what if she was being dramatic? For all she knew, Deb was secretly the leader of a mob.

And I might watch too much TV, but oh well.

"I don't need to tell you anything!" Deb snarled, flipping off her lamp once more with obvious finality. The bedsheets rustled as she no doubt turned onto her side, away from Beverly. "Quit being stupid, Beverly," was her huffed goodnight.

But Beverly wasn't stupid. Dramatics aside, she knew that something bad was happening where her roommate was concerned, and she would have to stay on high alert to avoid unintentionally getting caught up in it.

***

Hey.

Beverly grinned at the message. It didn't matter that it was only one word—anything from Griffin served to lift her spirits, especially now that Thanksgiving, quickly followed by finals, was coming up.