Member-only story
“Never Again,” She Said
It was no time for second-guessing.
I couldn’t tell you how long I had pined for my roommate Allie. Two years had flashed by, but I could still remember moving day and her bubbly exterior when I met her outside of a Zoom call for the first time. Little things stood out from that long-ago in-person meeting, imprinted on my memory: the white streak of paint on her left cheek, her loose baby blue overalls that made her seem like a farm girl trying to acclimate to city life, and the hint of gold streaks in the depths of her green eyes.
“Laura!” she had exclaimed, rushing forward and enveloping me in a hug. The smell of lemongrass — her shampoo — invaded my senses. She felt tiny and strong all at once. Yet I stood there, frozen, too unaccustomed to prolonged human contact — particularly when a stranger crossed the invisible boundary line I had set in place. “Did you find the place okay?”
“Yeah,” I said as she pulled back to assess me, her head tilted at an angle as if she were an inquisitive little puppy. “Yeah, no trouble finding the building.”
“Did anyone come with you?” Allie asked, craning her neck to look out the open door as if she expected a horde of people to appear out of thin air in the hallway.
“Nope,” I replied, holding up my small suitcase. “I put everything else in…
