I Work For My Roommate’s Love Pool Chapter 06

I Work For My Roommate’s Love Pool Chapter 06

The next day, I didn’t wash my hair. It was a matted, oily mess as I slipped into my lucky “Larry’s

Septic Service” graphic tee. I sauntered into the university library.

This was Miles Huston’s sanctuary.

As the literary star of Arbor Ridge, Miles spent every afternoon in the Rare Books Room, cradling

some yellowed first edition.

He lived for that quiet, intellectual aura he thought had.

The System had leveraged my hard work to give Chloe Sterling a “manic pixie dream girl” vibe.

Even though she couldn’t quote a single line of poetry, Miles saw her as some ethereal muse.

I found him by the window. The afternoon sun hit him just right, making him look like a character

from a classic novel.

I didn’t say a word.

I sat at the table right behind him and pulled something out of my canvas bag, a tub of

self-heating, extra-pungent Blue Cheese Mac & Cheese.

I tore open the packaging, added all the sauce packets with practiced ease, poured in water, and

put the lid on.

Within minutes, a rich, complex, incredibly penetrating smell radiated from my table, colonizing the

entire Rare Books Room.

That smell… how do I put it?

Like someone set off a stink bomb in a public bathroom, then poured a tub of extra-pungent blue

cheese dip on top.

“Oh my god, what is that smell?”

“Who’s eating that in here? Have some respect!”

“I literally can’t breathe. My soul is dying.”

The students around me clutched their noses, throwing death glares.

Miles smelled it, too.

His brow furrowed. His fingers froze on the page.

He turned toward the source.

When he saw me-hair shining with grease, wearing a septic service T-shirt, noisily cracking open the lid of my self-heating meal, ready to dig in-his expression was indescribably priceless.

Shock. Confusion. Pure, unadulterated disgust.

Right then, his phone buzzed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the caller ID: Chloe.

Miles answered, his voice strained. “Chloe? What is it?”

Chloe’s voice was loud enough for me to catch every word.

“Miles, I’m starving. Take me to that new French place by the East Gate? I heard their foie gras is to

die for!”

Normally, Miles would’ve found her adorable. He would’ve closed his book and run to her.

But today, listening to her beg for food while inhaling the stench of my social-suicide mac&cheese made his face turn a sickly shade of green.

[WARNING! Miles Huston’s rose-colored filter is fading! Negative association ‘food waste’

detected!]

[Charm conversion channel blocked! Attempting to repair… Repair failed!]

[What is the side character doing? She’s nuking her own reputation!]

[Wait, anyone else notice her behavior feels weirdly familiar?]

“French food?” Miles’s voice was ice. “Chloe, is eating the only thing you ever think about?”

Chloe went silent. “Miles? What’s wrong with you?”

“Ha,” Miles let out a cold laugh, his gaze raking over the greasy, molten blue cheese mac and

cheese in front of me like a blade. “You know what I just lost my appetite.”

He slammed his book shut and walked out without looking back, looking like a man escaping a

crime scene.

I took a huge bite. Delicious.

Next up, Griffin Wilder.

Griffin was the star athlete, the campus bad boy who loved his adrenaline. He lived for my “resilient

wild rose” act.

The System had turned my grit into Chloe’s “precious” aura.

Even if she could bench press a truck, Griffin saw her as a porcelain doll that needed protecting.

Wednesday afternoon was the big varsity basketball game.

I timed it perfectly. I showed up right when the game was at its peak.

No dress. No makeup. Just the “Larry’s Septic Service” tee and a pair of cheap flip-flops.

One of them broke halfway across the court, the strap snapping clean off.

I kicked them both off and sprinted onto the hardwood barefoot, my feet covered in campus

grime.

“Griffin! Griff!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

The entire gym froze.

Griffin, mid-layup, nearly broke his ankle coming to a halt. He stared at me like I was a

hallucination.

“Evelyn? What the hell are you doing?”