Brenda wanted a normal school year. Instead her mom died.
Salma needed space from her sister and terrible ex. Or else she'd lose her mind.
Delilah didn't think she'd have any more problems after moving far from her hometown. That was until she becam...
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❝The universe runs on the principle that the one who can exert the most evil on other creatures runs the show.❞
― Bangambiki Habyarimana, Pearls Of Eternity
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🗝DELILAH🗝
When a neon green piece of paper caught my eye, I was settling into the idea that I'd be homeless by the end of the week. I was in the middle of listing out the pros and cons.
Pros: I wouldn't have shitty roommates.
Cons: Everything else about homelessness.
The list wasn't very encouraging.
The dismal thoughts faded as I focused in on the piece of paper that stole my attention. Examining it closely, I saw the words 'ROOMMATE NEEDED' in bold, black print. I had found hope in the form of a flyer, flapping against the wind and tapped on to an electrical pole that had too many staples and nails dug into the wood.
I was so excited after seeing it that I didn't bother calling up the number. I ripped it from the post and ordered a ride off my phone to the address on the paper, arriving in fifteen minutes. I couldn't believe it was so close to campus.
"Thank you." I waved to the driver and hopped out the car, fixing my pink skirt and white V-neck. Giving myself one look with the camera on my phone, I inhaled sharply and jogged up to the porch.
The house was painted a warm yellow, almost orange, and was a two-story structure with white window frames. The white against the yellow made it pop more. Its front porch had a wooden rocking chair and a welcoming mat that read: Doorbell Broken! Yell 'ding dong.'
I squinted at the mat, moments before repeating what it had written on under my feet. But a small blue Post-It under the doorbell stopped me, written in sloppy, slanted handwriting there were four words: "Just Kidding. Ring it."
Cautions on if there was another prank attached to touching the doorbell, I slowly pressed it and waited. I sounds of someone on a set of stairs echoed. I couldn't tell if they were getting closer or further away. The door swung open. Two boys emerged from inside the house.
"You didn't yell ding-dong," said the one with tattoos.
"Huh?" the other one said. He looked at the mat the other was pointing at. "When the hell did you bring that?!"
"When I brought back the flyers. I got it out of my car and placed it there before I rang the door bell. I thought it would be a nice house warming gift, giving this place a bit of character." He yanked off the Post-It before the other boy could see. "Hello." He extended his hand out to me, offering a handshake. I obliged, shaking it firmly. "I'm Jaxon Miller. And you are?"
"I'm Delilah Park."
"I'm sorry, but you're not anywhere on the list." The other said, reading whatever was inside of his manila folder. "Are you sure you called?"
"Oh. I didn't know I was meant to call first," I gulped, holding out the flyer I had collected from the streets. "When I saw this, I rushed here as soon as possible."
"You're that desperate for a place to stay," Jaxon said, sounding more like a question than a statement. "Do you attend Richmond University?"
"Yes, I do." I retorted. "I'm a freshman."
"How are you without a dorm? Most facility members tell freshmen to dorm on campus."
"I had a dorm for a few weeks," I revealed. "But then I joined a sorority. I don't want to get into the messy details, but I'm no longer welcomed at my sorority."
"You're homeless?" Jaxon jumped in.
"Not exactly," I informed. "All of my things are still in my room back at the sorority house. But my Sisters are making it more than obvious that they want me out sooner than later."
"They don't sound like sisters at all," the other one snickered. "I figured the Greek Life oriented portion of the campus was close like family."
"Yeah, I was under that impression, too..." I trailed off, sighing, "until one of the head members put all of my belongings—including my bed, with me in it—on the front lawn. The sprinklers woke me up at six in the morning."
"Damn, that's awful." The one with the folder shook his head in disbelief. "Well, I'm Scott Owens. Nice to meet you Delilah." He gave me a handshake. "Jaxon doesn't live here. He's my cousin; he's just helping around."
"But I plan on being around often," Jaxon winked.
"Don't mind him." Scott rolled his eyes. "I'm the one conducting interviews. I'm sure I can squeeze you in before the next scheduled interview. Especially considering the circumstances you're under. Come on in."
"Do you want a tour of the house?" Jaxon suggested.
I denied his offer, shaking my hair hard enough that the bow on my head became lopsided. "Maybe later." I said, readjusting the bow.
My skin crawled at the thought of being left alone with him. Mainly because of the way he kept eying my body like I was some kind of meal, specifically placed on this earth for him to devour. I didn't know how I was going to survive this interview without shrinking into the seat.
I knew my Sisters liked to think I was some kind of smooth talking male magnet, but truth be told, men terrified me. Not in the same way spiders and a possible zombie apocalypse scared me to death. Boys petrified me more so in the same way public speaking and babies scared me. A nervousness bubbled inside of me, setting up camp in my heart and filling me with anxiety. My mouth would turn to sandpaper and my knees transformed into jelly in the presence of boys.
I think, above all the rumors created by Rebecca Thompson, I hated the fact that my sorority sister had conjured up false stories of getting frisky with Noah. It was like stealing an experience right from under me. It spoiled the anticipation I had for when I'd have my first boyfriend. Which, at this point, was still blank.
Rebecca and the other girls wouldn't believe that if I told them, though. There was no point in trying to convince them otherwise. They would call me a liar and go on to spreading falsehoods about me. I had prayed for a drama free life in college, growing tired of it in high school. It was sad to see that I only faced worse drama queens here than at my previous school.
"Take a seat here." Scott pointed to the sofa. He took the recliner, flatting out the manila folder on to his lap. "Now, Delilah, tell us about yourself."
