Eclipsed Love

THE HOUSING HICCUP

My life has never been a cakewalk. I've worked my ass off to be where I am today-New York University. There were countless hurdles, but I am proud of myself for overcoming them to be here. This is a brand-new beginning for me, and nothing in this world can take my future away. From now on, it's just me, my dream home, and the life I've meticulously planned. Nobody stands in my way.

I unload my luggage from my car, which I parked right in front of the dorm entrance. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a golden hue over everything. I check my phone: almost six p.m. I push it into the back pocket of my jeans before grabbing my purse from the passenger seat. I still need to visit the dorm officer to collect my keys and other instructions before I can take all my stuff to my room. The office closes in half an hour, which means I must hurry.

I walk briskly to the building, leaving my luggage by my car, praying nobody will steal it on my very first day. Confused by the labyrinthine design of the building, I wander through corridors for at least ten minutes before asking a group of girls for directions. They seem shocked that someone actually asked for the office location. Yes, I am that clueless. Sorry to disappoint.

I practically sprint to the office, panting by the time I get there. The stairs were brutal on my already weak physique. Ms. Harrington, who I spoke with a few weeks ago about accommodations, is younger than she appeared in her profile picture. Her beautiful red hair and hazel eyes are now squinting at me. She was packing up to leave when I burst in. Oops.

"Hi, I'm Tessa Newman," I say gasping "first-year student. We spoke on the phone a few days ago" barely finishing my sentence,feeling like I might black out, I collapse on the chair in front of her.

"Ah yes, the business administration student," she says, pulling open a drawer to retrieve a set of keys and handing me a university pamphlet. "I told you most of the details about the dorms over the phone. Your roommate is already settled in. The cafeteria is open twenty-four-seven, and you can join clubs if you have time. There's art, theater, and sports. It's all mentioned in the pamphlet. If you have any issues, you can contact me. You have my number." She rushes

through the information, and I don't blame her. Repeating the same spiel to thousands of students must be exhausting. I thank her, grabbing my belongings. Just as I open the door to leave, her voice stops me again."And Tessa, you are required to join a compulsory sports club for credit. "

Lord, no. I sigh and leave. Sports? I thought this school was all about academics. Anyway, that's a problem for later. I decide to check my room first and figure out where to put everything before hauling my stuff inside.

Ms. Harrington gave me my roommate's contact information, but neither of us bothered to get in touch. Cliché, right? I was too busy with my own preparations. Doesn't matter. New beginning, new connections. I locate my room on the third floor, where most of the freshmen are housed, though the buildings differ.

Taking deep breaths to calm my nerves, I step in. Socializing isn't my strong suit. I'm happiest with a small space and a book in my hand. I wonder what my roommate will be like. I hope she's sweet. Maybe, after all this time, I could actually make a genuine friend.

A strong smell of deodorant hits me as I open the door, revealing an empty, cluttered bed. I instantly recognize my side of the room. It's small but adequate for two people. There's a huge window with two desks beneath it, and beds on either side. The washroom door is to my right, probably with a walk-in closet since I see none here. Opposite the desks is a massive bookshelf, half-empty, the other half filled with amazing novels. I trace my fingers over my favorite books: "Pride and Prejudice," "Wuthering Heights," the "After" series, "Fifty Shades of Grey"-juicy reads. I have copies of these downstairs with my bags.

I place my purse and phone on my bed and dash back to retrieve my bags. Judging by the amount of stuff I have; I'll need at least two more trips. My first haul is just my books and novels. The box is heavy and overstuffed. I push open the door with the box in my hands, only to trip over a small, invisible step and crash to the floor.

"shit, damn it," I screech, hitting the floor with my palm. My books scatter everywhere. Looking up, I see big, bare, well-groomed feet. I follow my gaze up muscular calves, gym-toned legs. Before I can see more, a black, plush towel blocks my view. My eyes skip up to scan the abs, the towel hanging dangerously low on the hips. Then there are hands, veiny hands, like in the romance novels, on those cute hips. Finally, I meet the gaze of a very angry-looking guy. His curly hair is wet, fresh from a shower, and his deep hazel-gray eyes look down at me with disdain. Hold on a second. I push myself up, dusting off my clothes before taking in this god-like man again.

The guy bends down to pick up my copy of "Taming Stephanie" while I stand there, silently praying the towel would slip. It doesn't.

"Oh, dark romance drama, your type?" he says, flipping through the pages. Annoyance flares up. Why is he touching my books? I hate when people mess with my stuff.

I carefully step over the scattered books to his side and gently snatch the book from his hands, trying not to damage it but enough to give him a paper cut. I quickly gather the rest of my books, placing them back in the box.

"Hold on, missy... why the fuck are you here?" he asks, coming to my side as I drop the box on my bed.

"What do you mean?" I say, placing my hands on my hips, trying to look dominant.

"I mean, what are you doing here?" he repeats slowly, thinking I didn't understand him the first time.

"Your girlfriend and I are roommates. Actually, could you please call her?" I turn to pick up my phone from the bed. I check the time-it's seven already. I need to bring everything upstairs quickly before sitting down to organize my planner for next week before classes start.

I didn't realize this man was talking to me until he grabbed my elbow, turning me to face him. "Did you hear what I said? " he says thorough his teeth.

"No," I say, furrowing my eyebrows and jerking his hand away, stepping back to catch my breath.

He exhales, clearly frustrated with my attitude, and looks at me intently.

"I think there's been a mix-up because this is my room."

"What?" I stare at him, stunned.

This can't be right. The college couldn't have made such a huge mistake. Co-ed rooms aren't a thing here. Are they? I've been on this campus less than an hour, and things are already going south.

I immediately call Ms. Harrington while the guy disappears into the washroom, probably to put on some clothes.

"Hello, Ms. Harrington. This is Tessa," I say, waiting for her annoyed greeting. "I think there's been a mix-up because I've been given a room with a male. Can you please look into it? I want to settle in as soon as possible." I anxiously wait for her reply.

"There is no mix-up, dear," she says, and my heart sinks. "You applied for dorms last minute, and the university had to give you any available room. Also, our policy is to house students with the same courses together to help them bond. That's why you were placed with Cole. I gave you his contact information, didn't I?"

Fuck. I should have followed up. Shit.

I end the call and throw my phone across the bed before collapsing onto it. I'm too tired to deal with this. Six hours of driving has drained me. My back aches from sitting too long.