Heat Of A Different Fate

Natalie

I knew the roommate situation was going to be a crapshoot. I filled out the form the college sent me and hoped that they'd match me with someone I wouldn't kill. I didn't even hope that she would be hot. I didn't want to live with anyone I was fucking anyway. All I knew was her name, Lauren O'Dell, and that she was on the soccer team like me. I was picturing a freckled redhead who...okay I was picturing the Wendy's mascot.

I had, smartly I thought, broken up with my high school girlfriend before going off to college. She cried and I held her, but I think some of her grief was thanks to the fact that she was still very much in the closet, and I was a secret. I was tired of being a secret. I wanted to date a woman out in the open, kiss her in the sunlight, and all of those wonderful things straight couples took for granted.

Part of preparing for college was a makeover. I chopped off my long brown hair and styled it into a kicky pixie cut, then dyed it cotton candy pink. My mother rolled her eyes, but she said now was the time to do that sort of thing.

When filling out the housing forms, I was honest about myself, and I reasoned the only thing I really needed to worry about was taste in movies. This was film school after all, and if we didn't have movies in common, we'd be gearing up for a frosh year of tedious arguments.

Really, most of my anxiety over having a roommate centered around masturbation. I'd gotten into a once-a-day groove and wasn't sure how that was going to work. Or even where I was going to put my vibrator. I reasoned I could go bareback most nights and only break out the massager for special occasions. I hoped Lauren O'Dell had an active and varied dating life.

I made it into the school thanks to a soccer scholarship, and I'm guessing that's what the housing department looked at, considering that they stuck me with a teammate. Since it turned out okay, I wasn't going to complain. We had another teammate in the suite too.

I arrived on campus early on the first day, having taken a morning flight. Leaving my mother at the airport was a strange feeling. I had taken my first real steps to adulthood. I was outside, I was on my own. I liked the feeling, the way it made my heart light and fluttery. I was dancing at the edge of a rooftop with all the freedom of the sky around me.

I checked in at the welcoming desk and got a map to my dorm. The whiteboard on the door said NATALIE & LAUREN in blue marker. I snorted.

Let's hope not

, I thought to myself.

I found a narrow room with a pair of tiny twin beds on either side, with two desks at the foot. A closet with a mirrored sliding door ran along the left hand wall, and a sink with a mirror on the other. The room was small in a way that would feel exponentially smaller with every additional person in it. Designed as a passive aggressive way to stop parties from happening. I picked the bed on the left and unpacked my stuff, claiming a side of the closet and sink. I pulled some sheets over the hard mattress, a pillowcase over the pillow, then put my comforter over the top.

This is the entirety of my things

, I thought to myself, looking around this space where I would spend the next several months. Everything else was back home in Olympia, my room, filled with my childhood, dark and quiet. Untouched until I flew home in December.

The only toy I'd brought was Egbert, a stuffed otter I'd had since, well, forever. The one part of my childhood that would come with me to this new adventure. I looked into his plastic eyes as I set him next to my pillow.

Just you and me, buddy,

I thought to him.

I sat down on the bed, wondering what else I was supposed to do, when I heard a young woman's voice outside in the hall. "This is it!"

The door opened right as I processed that the source was right outside my door. I braced myself to meet Wendy. The owner of the voice came in, and I got my first look at my roommate, Lauren O'Dell. She was a little taller than me, with the expected slender, athletic physique of a college soccer player. Her hair was long, straight and black, and her adorable round face was lit with an engaging smile. Her bright blue eyes would have looked more appropriate on a Disney princess. She was dressed in a tank top and shorts, white tennis shoes and low socks.

"Hi!" she said, sticking her hand out. "Are you Natalie?"

I got up, taking the offered hand. "Yeah. Lauren?"

"It's so nice to meet you!" she said. Her grip was firm, her hand soft. "We're gonna have so much fun together."

Not too much

, I thought to myself, but one look at her and my resolve was already fading, Maybe dating a roommate wasn't so bad?

A handsome older man with Lauren's mouth came in, followed by a gorgeous older woman with her eyes, then finally a young man built like a football player and sporting a squarer-version of Lauren's features. He carried three suitcases.

"Where do you want it?" the guy asked. Then he saw me and puffed up his chest, trying to thread the needle between cool and flexed. "Hey."

The mother approached me with a confused smile. "Natalie Cho?" she asked. I knew the look. I got it from older people who saw the name and hadn't met me yet.

"That's me."

"You don't look..." she paused, then, lamely, "...like a Cho."

"Mom!" scolded Lauren.

"She doesn't! I just wanted to make sure you're in the right place."

"She is," I assured her. "My dad was Chinese."

"Was?"

"He passed away."

"I'm so sorry," Lauren's mom said. "I know he's with Christ now."

"Mom!" Lauren hissed.

I didn't mention that my father had been his own special blend of spiritual, taking religious beliefs with all the care of a drunk at a Vegas buffet. It was one of his best qualities. I gave her what I hoped was a genuine smile. "Thanks."

"Soccer player?" the dad asked.

"Yeah. Midfielder."

"Good. My Lolo is a striker," he said, and I had passed his test. Frankly, I preferred it to Lauren's mom's version. Her brother's version involved checking me out. He didn't try any lines, and I think I had her folks to thank for that. They helped Lauren move in. She had about five times the stuff I did and by the time they were done, it looked like I was rooming with Barbie. They kissed Lauren goodbye and left us to the first semester of our college life.

"Sorry about my family," Lauren said.

"I've gotten worse."

"Well, I'm still sorry."

"I'm not gonna hold it against you."

My gaze crawled up Lauren's body. Her back was to me, and she was partly bent over her bed as she hung postcards on the wall. Her long legs, tanned a golden brown, went up to a short pair of cut offs. They'd ridden up--not a long trip--and the lower parts of her ass peeked at me beneath a fringe of ragged jean innards. My eyes followed the peachfuzz at the base of her thighs. I tried to stop myself, but I was already imagining running my tongue over it.

I was going to need to figure out the masturbation situation. I hadn't seen her unpack a vibrator, but it wasn't like she was going to be waving that in front of her family. But if I was gonna spend the next couple months with her I was definitely going to need regular pressure releases. I forced my eyes away from those two wonderful creases.

"So, uh...you really like Paris?" I said mostly to say something.

She stood up straight, taking away the view, which was probably for the best, putting her hands on her slender hips to regard her handiwork. The postcards, most in black and white, were of Paris. "I went once, when I was thirteen," she said. "I've been wanting to go back ever since. Have you ever been?"

"My mom could never afford it."

"Oh," Lauren said, turning to me, those big blue eyes downcast.

"No worries. What's your major?"

"Undecided."

"Oh, that's a good one."

"What about you?"

"Film. Looking to go into production design."

We spent the next hour or so bonding. I learned that she was from a rich family and that she lived in the suburban beach sprawl between Los Angeles and San Diego. I kept looking for a reason to dislike her, maybe tamp down on some of the undeniable attraction that had me looking at her like a five-course meal. Problem was, she was spoiled sweet. I liked her immediately and the more I looked for things not to like about her, the more appealing she got.

We went off to the orientation activities and met the people on our floor. After dinner, we all gathered in the adjoining room in our suite. Melissa Rios was a pretty, dark-haired woman from out in the desert east of Los Angeles, while Willow Boone was a gorgeous redhead from somewhere back east. We were all asking and answering the same suite of questions, where are you from, what's your major, any brothers and sisters, the usual getting-to-know-you chitchat. Then came the question I was dreading.

Melissa asked Lauren, "Do you have a boyfriend?" The seed planted, that question would now make the rounds, leaving me with a choice to make. Saying no was technically honest, but it would be more honest to say that I was bi and more looking for a girlfriend than a boyfriend at the moment. Tell them now, and I could write off at least some of them. Or I could hide it and make friends with bigots and hope when they did find out they'd gotten to know me well enough that I'd be an exception.

"Natalie?" Melissa asked. She was staring right at me.

"Sorry, yeah. Got lost in my head."

"Got a boyfriend?"

"No. I'm actually bisexual. I had one real boyfriend back home, we broke up years ago, but most recently I had a girlfriend. Broke up with her before I got here. I'm single."

The room was silent, staring at me. One of the women in the room, her name was Farah something, raised her hand. "I'm gay too."

Everyone laughed, tension draining from the room. I guess I'd let the air out of a balloon I hadn't even known was there. I watched Lauren, who had gone quiet. She was watching the conversation unfold but she had taken a step back. Well, at least I'd come up with something I didn't like about her.

The conversation meandered for another hour before we were tired enough to all return to our rooms. Lauren and I got ready for bed in silence. I'd really stepped in it. This would make the semester uncomfortable. Maybe I could convince the housing department to move me in with Farah. We could be on the prowl together.

"I don't care," Lauren said, turning around.

"Don't care about what?"

"I don't care that you're gay."

"Bi, actually."

"I don't care about that either."

"You're sure? You seem a little tense."

She sighed, trying to relax and it just looked more tense. "I've known gay people. We have gay people in Seal Beach. It's just I've never lived with one."

"Again, bi. Queer's fine, if you're looking for a blanket term."

"Queer."

"You're okay living with me?"

"I like you," she said, then those gorgeous blue eyes widened. "I don't

like

like you. Like as a friend. You're cool, you're fun, we're gonna be on the soccer team together..."

"It's just a lot to get used to."

She nodded, sighing in relief as apparently I understood. "Right."

"Don't worry, Lauren. I know you're straight and I totally respect that."

"You're saying you think I'm hot?"

I had to laugh. "Do they have mirrors in Seal Beach?"

She struck a pose and preened. "Thank you."

"We're gonna be friends," I said. "That's all."

Lauren looked like she was ready to say something else, but thought better of it. She undressed over by the closet, just out of my eyeline, and returned wearing a long sleep shirt. I was already for bed, in my customary outfit of a t-shirt and a pair of soft shorts. We climbed into our beds, and soon, I listened to the sounds of Lauren's breathing softly on the other side of the room.

Ash

I first saw Lauren O'Dell at a soccer game. It was a blowout win, and the coach put in the frosh to give them some consequence-free playing time. I didn't see Natalie that day, because, I would find out later, she'd sprained her ankle in practice earlier in the week. Sometimes I wonder if anything would have been different had I seen Natalie first, or if things shook out the way they did because they had to.

It didn't matter. Things worked out how they worked out, and that was pretty well, though not without a few bumps in the road.

I'd gone to the game with my friend Elliott, as he had sensibly pointed out that we were both single, and women who played soccer were hot. I couldn't argue with that kind of logic. We were in the bleachers that fall evening when Lauren O'Dell subbed into the game. Her long black hair was pulled back into a tight braid, and though the ensemble of baggy soccer jersey, shorts, kneepads and shin guards was the least fetching thing I would ever see her wear, I was smitten. It was as though the smooth expanse of skin from the legs of her shorts to the tops of her kneepads told the entire tale.I read her name off the back of her jersey: O'DELL.

We cheered while our women put the game away. I was hung up on that mysterious raven-tressed frosh O'Dell, but I'd already written her off as out of my league. Elliott and I made our way from the bright lights of the athletic field, and my brainpower was occupied coming up with reasons I wasn't going to meet that gorgeous player who had danced with the ball.

"Party at Evans Dorm?" Elliott said.

"I don't know. I'm not great around people I don't know."

"You're not great around people you

do

know."

"Hey, thanks."

"Come on, you always do this. You say no, I drag you kicking and screaming, you end up having fun."

"You're not wrong."

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"You pick a fight with a mannequin and somehow get cut so bad I have to drive you to urgent care in the middle of the night."

"That happened one time."

Properly convinced, I went with Elliott over to Evans. I filed O'Dell under the heading of unobtainable goddess alongside such luminaries as Keira Knightley, Katherine Heigl, and the barista at the coffee place near my house. The party wasn't bad. Whoever had taken over the DJ booth had a hardon for cheesy '80s hair metal and frankly, I was good with that. I made my way over to the bar, which was a nice way of saying a folding table covered in solo cups, a keg of beer, and the cheapest liquor that could be bought, and wondered how I was going to poison myself.

"Don't know what you want?" asked a voice.

"Trying to decide how mad I am at my liver."

She laughed and I turned to introduce myself. O'Dell stood there, close enough to touch. She was dressed for the party now, in a minidress and some strappy sandals, her long black hair no longer in a braid. I stared at her, momentarily gobsmacked and blurted, "O'Dell?"

She blinked her big blue eyes and laughed. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. I came from the game. I saw you..." I mimed kicking a ball and nearly nailed a guy in the shins. "Sorry," I said to him. I was already making this weird. Elliott would be so proud.

"You watched us?"

"You were amazing. I don't know anything about soccer, but the way you...handled the ball?"

"Dribbled."

"Dribbled, really? Well, you're incredible."

"Thank you." She held out her hand. "Lauren."

"Yeah, that's better than O'Dell, probably. Ash."

"Ash?" she leaned in, like she hadn't heard. I got that a lot.

"Short for Ashley."

"Oh, that's cool. My brother's name is Leslie. He does

not

like it."

"Yeah, it was rough until I landed on Ash."

"What should we drink, Ash?"

"The punch is called Blackout Juice, so not that. Beer?"

"Sure."

I got us some beers from the keg and fully expected Lauren O'Dell to circulate around the party once she'd gotten her drink. She was certainly getting some looks. Hard not to, with her long, golden brown legs poking from her tiny dress. But she stayed with me.

"What's your major, Ash?"

"Film. Screenwriting concentration."

"Really?" Her eyes got big. Well, bigger. "That's so cool."

"What about you?"

"Not sure yet," her eyes went down, like she was telling me a secret. They were so expressive it was easy to see what she was thinking. Aside from being gorgeous, I loved their honesty. "Thinking about acting."

"You've got the face for it," I said without thinking.

"Thank you."

I shrugged. "Hey, if I get something made, I'll call you. I have to make sure to write something for you. Gorgeous Soccer Player okay?"

She blushed, and that plus the beer was giving me some confidence. I hung out with her the entire night. She was a frosh, told me all about growing up in Seal Beach, talked about how her school had done

Wicked

and she'd gotten the lead. That was the tape, she was convinced, that got her into college as a promising actress.

At the end of the night, her friends were leaving. "Yeah, give me a sec," she called to them. "Ash, it was so much fun."

"We should do it again sometime."

"Let me give you my number."

I blinked in surprise and handed over my phone. She typed in the number and blew me a drunken kiss before going off with the rest of her team. I looked at the name in my phone:

O'DELL <3

.

Natalie

The sprained ankle had been a bummer. Missing the game was worse. Missing the party afterwards was the cherry on top. The sprain was fresh, and though not bad on its own, it could easily get worse. So I needed to stay off it for a day. Which meant while Lauren and the other girls were having a blast, I was stuck in the room. I stayed in bed with my ankle wrapped, catching up on the reading I had to do for class.

I masturbated early that night because why the hell not. I had nothing else going on. Helped sharpen my concentration too. Images of Lauren danced through my head while I held the vibrator against me. It was always Lauren. Lauren in the locker room, Lauren wrapped in a towel after a shower, even just Lauren smiling. I had it bad, and though I was obsessively looking for someone else to distract me from the impossibility of my straight roommate, no one had stepped up.

By the time Lauren stumbled in adorably tipsy, I was running out of gas. My eyelids each weighed about a thousand pounds. I had finished all the assigned reading and now my face was buried in one of those salacious Old Hollywood biographies that can't possibly be true, but you hope they are. Egbert rested on my pillow, judging the various stars whose terrible behavior haunted the life of our heroine.

"Natalie!" Lauren hissed as she shut the door behind her. I think it was supposed to be a stage whisper, but it carried.

"You look like you had fun," I said, sitting up. She was falling out of her minidress. The damn thing barely covered her when it was on straight, and it was no longer on straight.

"I had an amazing time! I met a guy!"

"Dressed like that, I hope so."

She snorted, covering her mouth and widening her eyes in surprise, then broke into a gale of laughter. "Did you hear that?"

"I heard it," I said. It was impossible not to smile.

"He's so cute."

"What base did he get to?"

"He was a perfect gentleman." She paused. "If he made a move, I'd have let him get over the bra at least."

"Daring."

"Ask me on our third date."

"Already going on a third?"

"I gave him my number."

Lauren was happy at least. I tamped down on the tiny spark of jealousy in my chest. Lauren was my friend, and I wanted her to be happy. Well, I wanted her naked, but happy was more realistic.

She turned around and bent over undoing her sandals. Her dress, which barely made it below her ass when it was hanging properly, promptly hiked up. A thong ran up between her toned cheeks. The lacy strip vanished momentarily, only to reappear below, cupping her mound. A few black hairs peeked from the narrow strip of teal fabric. I could have let her keep giving me a show, but a friend has some responsibilities.