He Mistook Me for My Roommate, So I Called a Stranger Husband novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: We're Done
A screenshot shows June her online boyfriend mistook her for her roommate. She dumps him, takes Zara's gift pile in stride, and asks a stranger for his number. He says her name before she told him.
The screenshot reached my phone while I stood in the line at the campus coffee cart.
It came from a number I didn't know, with no words attached.
It was a text thread between Brett Bingham and a guy from his fraternity.
The fraternity guy wrote: "My fault, man. I gave you the wrong girl's handle. What are you gonna do now?"
Brett wrote: "Don't say anything yet. I followed her roommate by accident. Give me a few days to sort it out."
The fraternity guy wrote: "June is obsessed with you."
He added: "Mess around with the roommate, go back to June later, she'll be waiting on her knees."
I read it twice while the barista called out a name that wasn't mine.
Brett and I had talked online for six months.
We had never met, and a week ago he had gone cold just before we were supposed to.
Now I knew why, and what I felt was relief.
I was already tired of waiting for him to text back.
So I typed: We're done.
I blocked his number before it showed as delivered.
I deleted our shared playlist.
I paid for my oat latte and walked back to the dorm.
The room smelled like expensive flowers when I opened the door.
Three girls stood around Zara Danner's bunk, and the mattress under her was covered in orange boxes and black shopping bags.
There were Hermès scarves, a Cartier box and tissue paper spilling onto the floor.
Zara was my roommate, and the girl everyone on campus wanted to be.
She sat in the middle of the pile holding her phone out for a selfie.
"He said it was a little gesture," she told the room. "For the mix-up."
I knew about the mix-up from a screenshot. They knew about it from Brett.
In six months Brett had never sent me more than a hundred dollars in gift cards.
One of the roommates looked over at me and smiled with all her teeth.
"Some people have no shame," she said.
"You look a little like Zara, so you let a guy think you were her for half a year?"
"No wonder she never met him," said the other one. "She was scared of campus security."
"I never said I was Zara," I said.
"You just never said you weren't," the first one answered.
Zara slid off the bunk and came toward me with a folded scarf in her hand.
It was pale green with little gold horses on it.
"Junie, don't listen to them," she said. "He overbought. Please take one, I'd feel awful if you didn't."
Her voice was kind and warm, and she was already pressing the scarf into my hand.
She also said, "He told me everything you two talked about. I hope that's okay."
I looked at the scarf.
I had never taken a gift from a boy in my life, and I wasn't going to start with his girlfriend's hands.
"Keep it," I said. "I ended it with him ten minutes ago. You can have the rest of him too."
The roommates went quiet.
Zara's smile stayed exactly where it was. "That's so mature of you."
I picked up my gym bag and went out.
All week I'd had the feeling that someone was watching me in the humanities hall.
A heavy stare landed between my shoulder blades.
Every time I turned, I found a room full of laptops.
I told myself it was no sleep.
At the rec center I hit the heavy bag until my forearms burned.
Then I walked back with my head down, texting Roxie about the whole thing.
I walked into a man's chest.
The phone flew out of my hand and I caught it against my hip.
I looked up.
He was six-foot-two, with a straight nose, a sharp jaw and dark eyes under heavy brows.
He wore a leather jacket and an annoyed face.
My pulse jumped. He was the best-looking man I had ever stood this close to.
A month ago I would have said sorry and hurried away.
Today a boy had left me for my roommate's face, so I decided I was done hurrying.
"Hey," I said. "Can I get your number?"
He started to sneer. I watched the brush-off coming, the whole line of it.
Then he looked at my face and the sneer stopped.
He went still. The pause stretched until it was awkward.
"No worries if you have a girlfriend," I said, and turned to go. "Have a good one."
Leather creaked behind me, and a low voice said, "Wait."
I turned around.
"Give me your phone," he said.
I held it out. He typed for a few seconds and handed it back.
The new contact said: Quincy VanHorne.
"I'm not the one who's going to text first," he said.
"That's fine. I'm good at it."
He almost smiled and didn't. "Thanks, June."
He walked off toward the law building.
I stood in the middle of the path looking at my phone.
I hadn't told him my name.
Then I saw my student ID swinging from my tote strap, with JUNE HALLETT printed across it in bold.
That explained it, so I let it go.
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