First Chapter: Holdout by Jacqueline Snowe
Ryann
Beggars couldn’t be choosers. It would be fine. Probably. I chewed the inside of my cheek and traced the rim of my coffee mug, weighing my options of which one is worse. The smell of coffee filled my lungs as I took a deep breath, gazing around the café. The constant sound of happy chatter eased my mind a bit, and I leaned back onto the wooden chair.
The choice narrowed down to agreeing to this very detailed ad, or staying in the dorm with my live-on-the-edge roommate. The temptation of joining her on the wild side was too much, and with the scholarship being my lifeline to school, I couldn’t chance having it taken away. My purple nails made a small clacking sound on the wooden surface of the table, and the muscles around my neck pulsed with tension.
Another mess-up in the dorms meant losing the scholarship, which wouldn’t only defeat my dream of becoming a counselor, but it would leave me homeless. That wasn’t something I ever wanted to experience, and god, I could only imagine how my older brother Michael would react. He’d lose it, mess up his scholarship on the team, and try to take care of me.
Yeah, that could not happen.
I stared at the ad in front of me.
Searching for roommate who is:
Clean
No parties
Takes school seriously
Not a sports fan
Split rent
No noise
Can move in ASAP
I was clean-ish. I never let my milk dry up in cereal bowls, but I’d been known to leave a shirt on a chair. Still, that was an easy fix. No parties was a no-brainer, since they’d gotten me into trouble in the first place. I took school very seriously. So seriously, I was searching to get out of my bad dorm situation one week into the year when every lease and dorm was taken. So yeah, not a problem.
Not a sports fan. Hmm.
I sucked in a breath and took creative liberty with that one. I only watched hockey because my brother was a senior on the Moo U team. It wasn’t like I was a fan—hockey had been shoved in my face since birth and part of who we were as a family. Hockey. It was a way of life, ingrained in who we were. So, I technically wasn’t lying.
Moving in ASAP was the least of my problems. It would be impossible to find a place closer to campus than this three-story house. Every apartment was booked or already leased so I couldn’t be choosy. Getting out of the dorms was essential, and if I had to live in a closet for the year, so be it.
I’d shoved my stuff into two duffel bags after our RA did room checks, and I’d sweated so much I had pit stains on my red shirt. She didn’t find my roommate’s stash of weed or whiskey, but the sheer panic, no, terror causing my body to freeze wasn’t worth it. I refused to live like that all year. Not with my academic scholarship on the line. I already had a slap on the wrist from the year before, and one more incident would ensure I’d be out of school, alone, and without a plan.
Yeah, that’d devastate my brother.
With a quick stretch over my head, I tilted my neck to the right and left, getting two cracks in before I typed out my response.
Hey Daniel,
I’m in. Where do I send the deposit?
The email sent, making a whoosh sound, and I waited. If I could move in, get settled, and gain my ground, then I would tell Michael. Not a second before, because I didn’t need him playing the father card and trying to take care of me or freaking out. Either option was just as likely, and I needed my brother, not the parental role he tried to fill after we lost our parents.
My email pinged in less than a minute, and I took that as a good sign.
Ryan,
Here is my account. Once the payment is received, I’ll set the key under the doormat. I’ll be out this afternoon, but feel free to move in. Your bedroom is empty. Text me if you run into any issues.
D
Thank you, baby Jesus. I did it. I found a new place when there was nothing available and all without bothering Michael. I relaxed into the wooden chair. He needed to stop viewing me as helpless, and getting my own place would be the first step. Money would be tight until I could find a way to make a few dollars, but I had at least a month to worry about it.
The scholarship covered room and board in the dorms and classes—not off campus living, so this new arrangement meant I needed a job.
“Good news, huh?” My barista, Hannah, walked by with another glass of water. Our campus on the northeastern part of Vermont was beautiful, and the summer air breezed through the open windows. She owned the small café—Beans N Books-- attached to our school’s library. “Your smile is bordering on terrifying.”
“Like Joker terrifying or you’re so jealous of my smile, it terrifies you?” I replied, jutting my chin to the chair across from me. She sat and yawned for a good ten seconds before she shook her head. Her red hair hung loose around her face in an effortlessly beautiful way. “Hannah, be honest with me,” I said, leaning onto my elbows. “Do you live in the café? Like, is there a sleeping bag in the back room or something?”
“It would save me money on gas if I did.” She rubbed her upper left arm. The bags under her eyes seemed darker. She took a deep breath and leaned onto her elbows. “I need good news, so, the smile. Explain it.”
“Found a new place to live,” I said, appreciating the fact our friendship was simple. She was in her late twenties but definitely had an old soul. We were both too busy to hang out beyond the café, but we offered each other an ear, someone to talk to about life. I knew about her struggle being a newly single mom and how her son’s father was awful, while she knew about my scholarship and how much was at stake if I lost the money.
Trusting each other without showing every card or vulnerability was my safe zone. It was where I kept most people besides my brother, and I was okay with that.
She arched one eyebrow, a talent I always wanted but never had, and said, “Is it close to the cafe?”
“Six blocks, don’t worry, I’ll still be here every day annoying you and drinking all your coffee.”
She rolled her eyes, but her lip quirked up on one side. “When do you move in?”
“Tonight.”
“Uh, that’s fast.” She tilted her head and frowned, worry lines forming around her eyes. “Shouldn’t you meet them first?”
“There’s nothing else in my price range. Nothing. It’s not ideal, but I doubt Captain America needs a roommate, so I can’t have it all.”
She snorted and rubbed her palms against her eyes, reminding me again of how tired she looked.
“Hannah, seriously, you need some time off.”
She blew out a breath and looked a bit helpless. “All my workers are temps or students who are here for a few months at a time. I can’t trust them.”
An idea took root in the back of my brain, starting as a little flicker, and it grew. “Hire me.”
“What now?” She blinked, slowly, and her nostrils flared. “Hire you?”
“You’ve heard me complain about needing a job the past thirteen months, and I think I can manage my time better this year. You know me more than my roommate did. I’m trustworthy and loyal as hell.” The flicker billowed into a fire in my mind, and I clapped twice, making her jump. “We can compare your schedule with your kiddo and my classes and arrange it so you get some damn time off to rest. Seriously. This is a totally appropriate example of quid pro quo.”
Her pale brown eyes crinkled on the sides as a smile stretched across her face. “Yes. Yes. This could work.”
“No lie?”
“I trust you. Really.” She leaned into the chair and closed her eyes. “The thought of taking a night off makes me want to weep with joy.”
“Let me get settled in at my new place today, and I’ll be back tomorrow with my schedule and planner.” My words tended to slur together when I got excited, partly due to my slight lisp but also because my manic energy caused my brain to move faster than my mouth.
Hannah sighed and reached over to pat my hand, making me freeze. Overt displays of emotion got me queasy and nervous, but I remained quiet when she said, “Thank you, Ryann. I… I need this.”
“You’re welcome.”
She removed her hand, my muscles relaxing, and she got up as a line formed by the counter. “Good luck with the new roommate tonight.”
I winked at her and logged back into my laptop, pulling up my bank and sending the required amount to Daniel. It was only then that I realized Daniel was not Danielle. Daniel was typically a male name, but their gender didn’t bother me. I grew up with hockey players and Michael. My worry stemmed from the typo I missed in the email.
Daniel had typed Ryan. With one N.
Not Ryann, with two.
The second N was essential.
Shit.
He might think I’m a dude.
The momentary bliss of finding a place evaporated, and nervous energy had me biting my fingernail and chewing on the skin until I tasted blood. I could send the money to at least guarantee a place for thirty days, but I needed a contract first.
Daniel,
To protect myself, I’d like a contract that can be used in court.
R
R seemed honest enough, right?
Wouldn’t even know how to write one up. We’ll figure it out tonight. I really need the help with half the rent, and I’m assuming you need a place, so it’ll be fine.
He wasn’t wrong. I did need a place, so I had to take a chance that this wasn’t totally going to blow up in my face. My knee bounced up and down as I said to hell with it. I sent him the money, closed my laptop, and packed up my bag.
Daniel was going to have a roommate for thirty days, that was for damn sure. Now I needed to move in and figure out a way to break the news to him that Ryan was very much a girl.
* * *
Before I headed over, I called Hannah and told her the address of the place so someone knew where I was, to be safe.
The old Victorian house had a wooden staircase up the back to the third floor. It creaked as I put my weight on the first tread, and I gripped the railing, more than a little afraid the structure would crash down, bringing me with it.
My arms hurt from carrying my bags, but I got to the top and reached under the plain doormat with our school’s logo to find the key. Here goes nothing.
I fumbled a few times but got the key into the handle and pushed my way inside. “Hello? Daniel?”
Nothing. Silence.
Probably better that way. Gave me time to scope the place out and move in. It would be harder for him to kick me out if my stuff was here. The first thing I noticed was the smell.
Clean. Lemon-scented cleaner hung in the air, almost like it was masking something. Michael’s room always smelled like that, disinfectant and gross equipment. I turned on the light and made my way past the small foyer to the living room and mini kitchen. One small table with two chairs sat under a low-hanging light. A TV and large couch were the only things in the living room, and there wasn’t a single item out of place. No pillow askew, book left on a table, or cup left on the counter, half-filled with water.
“He wasn’t kidding about being clean,” I said to myself. There were two doors on the right side, one containing a pristine, wrinkle-free bed. I snorted. I could count on my hands the number of times I’d made my bed in my entire life. If this guy expected me to make mine, there would be a war.
The second bedroom was empty besides a bed and mini dresser. My new home, for at least thirty days. Might as well unpack. I blasted some Taylor Swift from my phone and got to work. I didn’t consider myself a slob, but I wasn’t on the same level as this guy. I might have dust on my shelves, but organizing made me inexplicably happy.
I lost myself in the music, dancing as I put my clothes away and struggled to put sheets on the bed. I wasn’t one to decorate walls with photos, but I did tape up the last family photo we had of Michael, me, and our parents. We wore large smiles and stood in front of our hotel in Florida. Our last family vacation.
Grief hit me, hard. My counselor had told me this could happen the rest of my life. I’d be fine, and then bam, sadness grew inside my chest and spread through my body, paralyzing me like hundred pound weights were in my shoes. I would never have my parents at my wedding. They would never see me graduate, find a career, or have children. I couldn’t call them just because.
The thoughts got sadder, and I collapsed onto the bed, exhausted from everything. I could take a mini nap before Daniel got back. Yes, that was a good idea. I lay on my side and took three breaths before sleep came.
“What the hell?”
I bolted up from the bed, a deep voice penetrating my dreamlike state. I moved. I napped. New roommate.
“Daniel?” I rubbed my hands over my eyes, the sleep burring my vision for a few seconds. Once I cleared them, I got a view of my roommate as he stood outside my door, hands on trim hips, and a dark angry scowl on a face I knew well.
Very well, in fact. It was hard to not recognize the sophomore on the hockey team when his face was plastered on billboards and his infamous scowl was a hot topic in the gossip mill.
“Your name is not Daniel. You’re J.D.” Annoyance had my neck tingling. The severity of our situation made the weight on my chest double. My roommate was a hockey player. Shit.
“You’re not a dude,” he fired back, nostrils flaring as he huffed out an angry breath. “Is this a trick?”
“You tell me.” I got up from the bed and mirrored his battle stance. His jaw tightened as he stared me down, no doubt trying to intimidate me. He had another think coming if he thought a hockey guy could scare me. “I thought Daniel was someone in a pinch who needed a roommate.”
“I thought Ryan was a dude.” He ran a hand over his jaw, distrust and worry flashing across his face like fireworks in the heat of summer.
“Look, J.D.” I used his nickname because that’s how I knew him, as the young player with a chip on his shoulder and a determined grit that intimidated other guys on the team. Michael had told me a few times that J.D. was almost too intense. “I really need a place to stay. I paid for the month. Give me thirty days to try and find somewhere else.”
He paled and mumbled something under his breath. “I can’t afford distractions. You’re a girl.”
“Wow, well stated.” I laughed, and my breath came out heavier with emotion. “You can’t afford the rent either, so we can figure it out.”
His mouth was set in a hard line, and he glared at me for a beat. “You said you weren’t a sports fan. You know who I am, so you lied.”
I pointed a finger between us. “Neither one is innocent in this. You lied too.”
“Yeah, because I can’t have some puck bunny trying to live with me and mess up my game, alright?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, and when he opened his eyes, there was fire behind them.
I tried to stop the laughter, but the more I tried to muffle it, the harder it came out. I giggled, slapped a hand over my mouth, and soon enough, I had a full-belly cackle going. “Puck Bunny. My god.” I laughed harder. “No, just… no.”
“What’s so goddamn funny?”
“Ask me my last name, J.D.,” I said, stopping the giggle attack and wiping the tears from my eyes. “Do it.”
He looked like he’d rather eat dog food, but he growled, “What is your last name?”
“Reiner. Ring any bells?” I said, smiling as the realization hit him. He furrowed his dark brown eyebrows, studying me, then his eyes widened, and he stood tall enough that his head almost hit the top of the doorframe. “Well?” I wiggled my brows at him. “Want to retract that asinine comment?”
“Michael’s sister. Michael Reiner’s sister.”
“And you get the grand prize.” I clapped my hands, making a real scene about it. “I’m not a puck bunny. I’m not a sports fan. Hockey runs in my blood. I technically wasn’t lying.” I shrugged, waved my hand around the room, and waited for him to say something. The puck was in his possession.
His hands curled to fists at his sides as he stared at the one photo on the wall. “Does he know about this?”
“No, but he will when I want to tell him and not a second sooner.”
Jonah Daniels did not like that answer. He sucked in a breath, swore, and marched into his room before slamming the door.
Awesome.
This went great.