The college had so many courses, I found it odd that she was in this very one. She pushed forward in her chair and put her head on a swivel. I dropped my gaze when she got near me. She was looking around, and then I put it together. She would pick this class because I was here. In her head, I bet I'd be doing her work for her and her dumbass boyfriend.

Maybe it was a jump and I was slightly paranoid, but as the professor went over the last chapter, Roberta shifted in her chair. Peter looked equally out of place.

After class ended, I tried to hightail it out of the lecture hall, but Roberta was standing at the end of my row.

I turned to go in the opposite direction, and Peter was on the other end. They both walked toward me, and the theory I had been thinking about seemed like more and more of a possibility.

“Your naked ass friends made a mess of my room.” Roberta crossed her arms under her boobs.

“It was our room, and there’s not a thing in the world that I do that you approve of. So maybe move on.”

Peter started patting on the backs of the chairs behind me like he was playing a drum solo to a song that only existed in his head.

“My room. I never asked for you to move in.” She sneered at me.

“That’s not how any of this works. If you wanted a single, you should've asked the college for that.” I had to take a roommate. Single rooms were an expense that was a luxury.

“Well, you need to pay me back for all the cleaning I had to do.” She started tapping her long, pointy fingernails on her forearm.

“I do not.” I put my messenger bag over my shoulder.

“All you need to do is study with me a few times a week. That’s all you have to do.”

“It’s only fair,” Peter spoke up behind me.

“I can’t even get my head around how you can do the mental gymnastics to make that a normal thing to think.” I realized that I was hemmed in by them, but I had long legs. I stepped over the back of the lecture hall chair, not caring if they saw my underwear as I made my move. Roberta reacted like I was an escaping pet guinea pig, skittering back out of the row to try to catch up with me.

I stepped over two more rows before moving toward the center aisle.

Peter was following Roberta’s lead and trying to catch up with me.

The anthropology professor stopped his meandering pace out of the hall to watch us over the top of his readers. “Everything okay?”