Track 7 Don’t Blame Me – Audrey
AUDREY
The private school’s campus greets me like an old friend—its lush green acres unfolding for miles, dotted with whitewashed buildings that line the cobblestone paths. In the distance, waves crash against a stretch of white sand.
It’s the type of view that washes away all thoughts of seeing He Who Shall Not Be Named.
“Thank you.” I smiled and stepped out, in utter awe that I was exactly where I wanted to be. For the first time in forever, life was going my way.
I took the elevator to the seventh floor and walked down the hall; the door to 7B was hanging wide open.
My jaw hit the floor at the sight of the panoramic windows in the living room, the all-white granite kitchen, and the hardwood floors that stretched from room to room.
Making my way down the hall to the bedrooms, a door on my left suddenly swung open—knocking me to the ground.
What the hell?
I jumped back up and found myself face-to-face with the last man on earth I wanted to see twice in one day.
Now out of his Bears jersey, his abs were covered by a white T-shirt that clung to his chest. His jeans had been exchanged for gray sweatpants.
For a split second, my brain short-circuited—registering his voice, his scent, the exact same tilt of his smirk from high school.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed.
“I live here,” he said. “At least while I’m in this program.”
“No.” I refused to buy into whatever trick my mind was playing on me. “You’re here for some type of bullshit photo op for the Bears or something…”
“I had no idea you’ve been keeping up with me since we last spoke.” His lips curved into a smirk. “I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be. Just get out before I call security.”
“What part of ‘I live here’ is difficult for you to understand?” He narrowed his eyes. “Shouldn’t be that difficult for an English major to understand words…”
I glanced down at his hand, noticing a wreath.
“It fell off our door,” he said. “I was fixing it before putting it back.”
As if I still couldn’t accept his words as reality, I squinted at the names jutting out from the frame.
No matter how hard my eyes strained, the truth was the same.
Taylor Wolff & Audrey Parker.
“Surely you can afford to stay somewhere else—anywhere else—with your ten-million-dollar contract.”
“It’s a twenty-million-dollar contract.”
“Thank you for making my point even clearer.” I crossed my arms. “You can afford to live somewhere else.”
“I’d rather stay on campus.”
“I’d rather you stay someplace else.”
“And I should care what the hell you think because?” He looked me up and down. “Instead of acting like a child, pretend to be an adult and get the hell over it.”
He stepped back and motioned for me to move past him, but I didn’t budge.
“I took the room on the right,” he said. “I figured you’d prefer the other one.”
I swallowed and walked down the hall, looking between the two rooms. Both were the size of apartments—decked out with floor-to-ceiling windows, built-in bookcases that stretched across the back wall, and an exposed brick wall.
His room was slightly smaller than mine, so I refused to believe there wasn’t a deeper, insidious reason he chose it.
Before I could ask him, a brown-and-yellow blur stirred between us.
“Oh wow!” A pretty brunette smiled at me. She had sleek, straight hair that fell to her elbows, and her tight-clinging floral dress looked like it belonged on the front cover of Vogue.
“I’m Stacey, Taylor’s girlfriend!” She extended her hand. “And you are?”
“Audrey.” I shook her hand out of politeness, but I refused to introduce myself as this man’s roommate. “I’m one of the scholars in the program.”
“Oh, well, cool!” She beamed. “Hopefully, you can convince him to give up his spot to someone else before this thing starts next week.”
I arched a brow.
“Come on!” She patted my shoulder like we were friends. “I’m sure everyone else in the cohort is gossiping about it.”
“I haven’t met anyone else yet.”
“Well, whenever you do, you’ll hear about it.” She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll have to wait on his roommate to try to—Oh! Audrey, you are his roommate. I’m sorry I didn’t catch that.”
“She was trying to be dramatic as hell about it…” Taylor muttered.
“I’ve heard a lot about you over the years.” She was completely oblivious to the awkwardness surrounding her. “It’s kind of cool that you’re coming full circle, especially after being Taylor’s little bully for so long, huh?”
“I’m sorry, his little what?”
“Bully.” She smiled.
That word hit harder than I expected. Like everything he’d done to me never happened.
“You bullied him so much that he still talks about how badly you hurt him back then,” she said. “I think you even made him cry a few times.”
Liar. I glared at Taylor, and he glared right back at me.
“But hey,” Stacey was still talking. “That was then and this is now. It’s all water under the bridge, right?”
We said nothing.
“I need to go check on something,” was all I could say.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, and I look forward to getting to know you more,” she said. “I’m sure Taylor feels the same.”
“Oh, I’m sure…” I stormed out of the suite, hoping I would wake up from this Twilight Zone-themed nightmare.
“Good afternoon, Miss.” A woman in all red greeted me the moment I stepped into the admissions office. “How may I help you this afternoon?”
“I’m having a personal crisis and an extreme emergency.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Miss Parker.” She frowned, motioning for me to step forward. “What’s wrong?”
“Well, I—” I blinked. “Wait a minute. How do you know my name already?”
“I know all the program attendees’ names.” She smiled. “I studied everyone’s social media after we sent out the acceptance letters, and I bet I could tell you what your status was four years ago to this day.”
I blinked.
“‘Audrey Parker at 3:26 p.m.—Is it legal for a therapist to quit on you in the middle of a session? Asking for a friend.’” She clapped. “Want to give me a random date so I can recite another?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I would like you to assign me a new roommate. Now.”
“Our system selects people at random,” she said. “It’s pretty effin’ good at matching people, and you signed off on that policy when you agreed to come here.”
“That was before I knew that I would be randomly assigned to an asshole,” I said. “I’m not working or sharing an apartment with Taylor Wolff.”
“‘Taylor Wolff, on this same day at 3:42 p.m.—That moment when a therapist finds out what the rest of us already know… You belong in an asylum.’” She tapped her lip. “Oh wow! What a coincidence, huh?”
“Oh, I’m sure it was.” I held back a groan. “Give me a new roommate.”
“That’s out of our hands, Miss Parker.”
“I refuse to believe there’s never been a roommate issue here before me.”
“That’s actually a fact… Never.”
I tapped my fingers against the desk, searching for another angle I could make my point. I glanced at her name placard—Lindsey Everett—but I hadn’t done my research on the staff anywhere near as well as she had.
“Not that I’m ever supposed to reveal this,” she said, “but Taylor Wolff was our number one pick. He had the highest scores and merits out of anyone. Well, anyone except you.”
She paused. “It was a tie, but he edged you out with his essay by half a point in the end.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Not at all. We were surprised as well, but his writing spoke for itself. Want to read the essay collection he submitted?”
“No.”
“I think you should.” She slid me a folder. “Now, on the other hand, if he ever makes you feel uncomfortable—”
“I’m extremely uncomfortable.”
“You can request that someone else trade with you, but—” She looked around. “Thanks to him, you have the nicest suite here, so you’ll probably have to change suites, not him.”
I nodded, then tried to force fake tears to roll from my left eye. I blinked a few times, did the “painful image” mental trick, but not a single tear came.
“Is something wrong with your eyes, Miss Parker?” Lindsey asked. “Should I get someone from Medical to see you?”
“No, I…” I threw one last Hail Mary. “I was promised that my roommate was a one-hundred-percent match, and that we practically filled out everything on our intake form in identical ways.”
“That’s true.”
“I said that I preferred a female roommate.”
“The scholarship dorms are coed, and they always have been.” She shrugged. “You have separate bathrooms, and you’re only sharing the common areas. I really don’t see the issue.”
“The issue is that I would like another roommate that I didn’t want to murder…”
“Are you making a threat on Mr. Wolff’s life?”
“I’m being sarcastic.”
“That’s not what it sounds like.” She furrowed her brows. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” I forced a smile and grabbed the essay folder she’d offered. “I’ll take this up with the group message board, thank you.”
She didn’t say “You’re welcome.” Instead, she eyed my every step until I left the room.
Sighing, I immediately headed to the closest campus café and logged into the private scholars group.
Taylor Wolff is attending?
OMG is this REAL?
I saw him!
I groaned. The top page of topics was all about him.
No—the top three pages.
The words Roommate switch request jumped out at me as I reached the next page, and I clicked—ready to make a deal.
I’m the 50th pick, and my place has a perfect view of the sea. I’m in the smoking section, since my roommate and I both smoke.
Looking to trade for whoever is rooming with Taylor Wolff LMAO
I swallowed a pent-up scream and shut my eyes.
If this was the universe’s idea of irony, it was nailing the assignment.