Forced to be my roommate

Chapter One : My Best Friend Is a Problem

“If you touch my chips again, Theo, I will end you.”

Theo Bennett looked down at the chip between his fingers, then at Isla Collins, who was glaring at him from across the café table.

“End me?” he repeated. “That's a bit dramatic over three chips.”

“Those are my chips.”

“And yet, somehow, they're in my hand.”

“Because you have the self-control of a toddler.”

He popped the chip into his mouth.

Isla stared at him in disbelief.

“You're actually disgusting.”

“And you're actually welcome. I just saved you from eating too many carbs.”

She snatched the paper tray away from him. “One day, I'm going to put something in your food.”

“Like what? Your personality?”

“Rat poison.”

“See, this is why your dating life is struggling. You're aggressive.”

“My dating life is none of your business.”

“Your last boyfriend cried because you beat him at Mario Kart.”

“He said he enjoyed competition!”

“He said you called him a useless waste of oxygen.”

“He was being a useless waste of oxygen.”

Theo laughed so hard that the woman at the next table glanced at them.

Isla kicked him beneath the table.

He kicked her back.

She kicked him harder.

“Children,” the woman muttered.

“She's the problem,” Theo said immediately.

“He's the reason people lose faith in humanity,” Isla replied.

The woman shook her head and returned to her coffee.

Theo grinned.

Isla hated that grin.

Well, hated was a strong word. She had spent the past five years looking at it almost every day, which meant she'd developed a fairly high tolerance for his nonsense.

Unfortunately, the grin had only become more irritating with age.

At fifteen, Theo had been the boy who borrowed her maths homework and returned it with half the answers missing. At seventeen, he'd been the i***t who convinced her to sneak out of a school event for chips, only to get them both caught because he couldn't stop laughing.

Now they were twenty, second-year law students at a university in Manchester, and he still behaved as though the world existed primarily to entertain him.

Some things never changed.

Her phone vibrated against the table.

Mum: Have you sorted your accommodation yet?

Isla's smile disappeared.

She turned the phone face down.

Theo noticed.

Of course he noticed.

“What now?”

“Nothing.”

“Your face just did that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you look like someone has informed you that Christmas has been cancelled.”

“Maybe Christmas should be cancelled. It's financially irresponsible.”

“That's the saddest thing you've ever said, and I've heard you sing.”

She threw a napkin at him.

He caught it.

“What's wrong?” he asked again, this time without the teasing.

Isla sighed.

“My accommodation has fallen through.”

Theo stopped smiling.

“What?”

“The room I was supposed to move into. It's gone.”

“Gone where?”

“Spain, probably. I don't know, Theo. The landlord says there was an issue with the booking, and apparently somebody else has taken it.”

“Did you pay a deposit?”

“Thankfully, no. But I've already turned down two other places.”

She rubbed her forehead.

“I was supposed to collect my keys next week.”

Theo leaned back in his chair, processing that.

“Have you called them?”

“Obviously.”

“Emailed?”

“Yes.”

“Threatened legal action?”

“Theo.”

“What? We're law students. We have to start somewhere.”

“You haven't even passed all your modules yet. Please don't start threatening people with a law degree you haven't finished earning.”

He placed a hand over his chest.

“That was unnecessarily personal.”

“Good.”

She picked up her coffee, which had gone cold.

The worst part was that she had actually been looking forward to having her own place. A small room, a decent kitchen, somewhere she could study without being interrupted by Theo sending her videos of people falling down stairs.

Now she was back to searching through listings, trying to find something affordable before lectures properly resumed.

Manchester was lovely until you needed somewhere to live.

Then it became a city full of overpriced rooms, suspicious landlords and photographs that looked as though they had been taken before the invention of indoor plumbing.

“Don't panic,” Theo said.

She looked at him.

“I'm not panicking.”

“You're crushing your coffee cup.”

She loosened her grip.

“Shut up.”

He smiled, but his eyes remained thoughtful.

“Have you checked the student housing groups?”

“Three of them.”

“Spoken to Ruby?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because I wanted to enjoy one peaceful morning before telling the entire universe that my life is falling apart.”

Theo nodded solemnly.

“Fair. Personally, I think the universe has always had a problem with you.”

“I'm going to pour this coffee on you.”

“You wouldn't. I'm wearing white.”

She looked down at his white T-shirt.

Then back at him.

A slow smile spread across her face.

Theo immediately moved his coffee out of reach.

“Don't.”

“I haven't done anything.”

“Your face is planning a crime.”

“Maybe you should learn to read faces better.”

“Five years of friendship, Isla. I know your criminal expressions.”

“And yet you keep sitting near me. Interesting.”

“I'm a man of remarkable courage.”

“Or remarkably low intelligence.”

“Same thing, apparently.”

She laughed despite herself.

Theo watched her for a second longer than necessary.

Then he looked away.

It was becoming a problem, and he knew it.

Not the teasing. Not the constant arguments. Not even the fact that Isla had somehow become the only person capable of making him laugh until his stomach hurt.

Those things had always been there.

The problem was that, lately, he had started noticing other things.

Like the way her nose wrinkled when she was trying not to laugh.

The way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she concentrated.

And, this morning, the way she'd walked into the café wearing a fitted cream jumper, dark jeans and the little gold earrings he'd given her for her birthday.

She looked good.

Ridiculously good, actually.

He had noticed the moment she'd walked through the door.

He'd also spent the following thirty seconds pretending he hadn't.

“Why are you staring at me?” Isla asked.

Theo blinked.

“I'm trying to work out how someone can be this annoying before eleven in the morning.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“You were staring.”

“I was thinking.”

“About?”

“Whether I should report you to the university for disturbing the peace.”

She kicked him again.

He laughed, grateful that she hadn't noticed the brief silence that had followed her question.

Because the last thing he needed was for Isla Collins to discover that he had started thinking about her in ways that made absolutely no sense.

She was his best friend.

His favourite person to argue with.

The girl who had seen him with terrible haircuts, terrible fashion choices and an unfortunate teenage moustache he still refused to discuss.

He knew her too well.

And that, he had recently discovered, was precisely the problem.

---

By the time they left the café, Isla had searched through six accommodation listings and rejected four of them.

One was too expensive.

One had a bathroom that appeared to be located inside somebody else's bedroom.

Another had photographs so suspiciously bright that she was convinced the landlord had edited out structural damage.

The fourth had a review describing the kitchen as “an experience”.

She wasn't interested in experiences.

She wanted a room with a lock and a shower that didn't require emotional preparation.

Theo walked beside her, holding his phone in one hand and the remains of his stolen chips in the other.

“There's a room in Fallowfield,” he announced.

“Price?”

He told her.

She stopped walking.

“Is the room made of gold?”

“Maybe the landlord is a very successful gold miner.”

“Maybe the landlord can go and find somebody else to rob.”

Theo snorted.

“You're very hostile towards people who provide housing.”

“I'm hostile towards people who think a box with a mattress deserves half my student loan.”

“That's fair.”

They continued towards the bus stop.

Manchester was doing what Manchester did best: raining just enough to be irritating without properly committing to it.

Isla pulled her jacket closer around herself.

Theo glanced at her.

“You're cold.”

“Excellent observation. Have you considered a career in science?”

He took the spare umbrella from his bag and opened it.

“Come here.”

She moved beneath it without thinking.

That was the thing about them. There were a thousand little habits that required no discussion.

Theo automatically walked on the outside of the pavement.

Isla stole his drinks without asking.

He knew she hated walking in the rain.

She knew he always carried an umbrella and almost never remembered to use it for himself.

They had been doing this for years.

Neither of them thought much about it.

Or, at least, Isla didn't.

A man approaching from the opposite direction glanced at her, smiled and slowed down.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I know this is random, but I just wanted to say you look really nice.”

Isla blinked, pleasantly surprised.

“Oh. Thank you.”

“Are you a student here?”

“Yeah. Second year.”

“Same. I don't think I've seen you around before.”

“Maybe you've been looking in the wrong places.”

The man laughed.

Theo looked at him.

Then at Isla.

Then back at him.

Interesting.

“I'm Nathan, by the way,” the man said.

“Isla.”

“Nice to meet you, Isla.”

“You too.”

Nathan glanced towards the bus stop.

“Would you mind if I got your number? Maybe we could get coffee sometime.”

Before Isla could answer, Theo spoke.

“Depends. Do you always ask strangers for their numbers in the rain, or is this a special occasion?”

Isla slowly turned her head.

Nathan looked mildly confused.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing,” Theo said pleasantly. “Just curious.”

Isla stared at him as though he had personally insulted her ancestors.

Nathan gave an awkward laugh.

“I'm guessing this is your boyfriend?”

“No,” Isla answered immediately.

Theo answered at exactly the same time.

“Absolutely not.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Isla elbowed him.

“Why did you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like the suggestion offended your entire bloodline.”

“Because it did. Imagine the paperwork.”

Nathan laughed again, but the moment had become awkward.

“Right. Well, it was nice meeting you, Isla.”

“You too.”

He gave her one last smile before walking away.

Isla watched him go.

Then she turned to Theo.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Don't start.”

“I was making conversation.”

“You interrogated him like he was applying for a mortgage.”

“I asked one question.”

“You asked it like you were deciding whether he was allowed within fifty metres of me.”

Theo adjusted his grip on the umbrella.

“You're welcome, by the way.”

“For what?”

“Protecting you from a man who apparently has no fear of hypothermia.”

She stared at him.

Then burst out laughing.

“You are actually unbelievable.”

“I've been told.”

“You've been told by me, repeatedly.”

“And yet you remain obsessed with me.”

“In your dreams, Bennett.”

He grinned.

She shook her head, still laughing, and took his phone from his hand.

“Give me this.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to check something.”

“Isla—”

She turned the screen towards him.

“You have twelve unread messages from women.”

Theo snatched his phone back.

“Privacy!”

“Interesting. So you can collect phone numbers, but I can't?”

“I never said that.”

“You didn't have to. Your face did.”

He looked at her.

For a second, the teasing faded.

She was smiling at him, completely unaware of how much trouble that smile had become.

He wanted to tell her that the thought of her giving her number to another man had bothered him far more than it should have.

He wanted to tell her that he had noticed her earrings, her jumper and the way she'd looked when she walked into the café.

He wanted to tell her that, lately, being her best friend felt like standing outside a door he was terrified to open.

Instead, he nudged her shoulder with his.

“Don't flatter yourself, Collins. You're not my type.”

She scoffed.

“Good. I'd rather date a traffic cone.”

“Wouldn't blame the cone for running away.”

“Wouldn't blame your future wife for divorcing you.”

“She's going to have to get in line.”

“Behind your twelve unread messages?”

“Behind the woman currently insulting me beneath my own umbrella.”

She smiled.

He smiled back.

And just like that, the moment disappeared beneath another layer of jokes.

---

By late afternoon, Isla was sitting cross-legged on Theo's bedroom floor, surrounded by her laptop, two notebooks and enough open accommodation tabs to crash the university Wi-Fi.

She had initially come over to use his printer.

Three hours later, she was eating his biscuits and threatening to delete his gaming account.

Nothing unusual.

Theo sat at his desk, scrolling through his phone.

His own accommodation situation was not significantly better than hers.

The friend he had planned to share a house with had pulled out after deciding to move back home. The remaining tenants had already found replacements, leaving Theo with nowhere affordable to move into.

He had been pretending it wasn't a serious problem.

Mostly because admitting it would mean acknowledging that he was, in fact, a grown man who had somehow reached twenty without mastering the art of organising his life.

“Any luck?” Isla asked.

“No.”

“Same.”

“Wonderful. We can become homeless together.”

She threw a biscuit at him.

He caught it.

“Stop feeding me.”

“Stop being annoying.”

“Stop using my printer.”

“Stop having a printer.”

“That's not how ownership works.”

She ignored him and returned to her laptop.

For a while, the only sounds in the room were the clicking of keys and Theo occasionally muttering insults at whichever accommodation listing he was reading.

Then Isla groaned.

“What now?” he asked.

“Someone is advertising a room for rent, but the pictures show a family portrait in the living room.”

“Maybe the family comes with the room.”

“Theo.”

“What? Could be useful. Free emotional support.”

She closed the tab.

He watched her for a moment.

She was genuinely worried now, and he didn't like it.

Not because he thought she couldn't handle herself. Isla could handle almost anything.

He simply didn't want her to feel as though she had to handle everything alone.

“Hey,” he said.

She looked up.

“We'll sort something out.”

“You don't know that.”

“No, but I'm choosing to be optimistic. It's new for me. Be supportive.”

She smiled faintly.

“I'm proud of you.”

“Thank you. Your approval means everything.”

“Don't ruin it.”

He held up both hands.

She returned to her search.

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed.

A message from Ruby Shaw, their mutual friend and the unofficial organiser of everyone's life.

Ruby: PLEASE tell me you two have sorted accommodation because I cannot listen to either of you complain for another week.

Isla typed back.

Isla: We're suffering.

Ruby: Obviously. Have either of you tried doing something useful?

Theo: I am useful.

Ruby: You once lost your wallet in your own bedroom.

Theo: It was a complicated day.

Isla: He also tried to microwave a metal spoon.

Theo: IT WAS AN ACCIDENT.

Ruby: I hate both of you.

A moment later, another message arrived.

This time, it was a link.

Ruby: Wait. Actually, don't move. Look at this.

Isla opened it.

A two-bedroom flat in Manchester appeared on her screen.

The photographs showed a decent-sized living room, a small but functional kitchen, a bathroom and two separate bedrooms. The place wasn't luxurious, but it looked clean, bright and close enough to campus to make the commute manageable.

She scrolled down to the rent.

Then scrolled back up.

Then checked the price again.

“Theo.”

He didn't look up.

“If this is another photograph of a room with a suspiciously large teddy bear, I'm not interested.”

“Look.”

She turned the laptop towards him.

He leaned over her shoulder.

Their heads nearly bumped.

“Two bedrooms,” she said.

“I can read.”

“Shared living room.”

“Still reading.”

“Affordable if we split the rent.”

That got his attention.

He straightened and read the listing properly.

The location was good. The tenancy details looked reasonable. There was enough space for them to live independently without being on top of each other.

Most importantly, neither of them would have to pay the full rent alone.

Theo looked at Isla.

Isla looked at Theo.

“No,” she said.

“I haven't said anything.”

“Your face has.”

“My face is being optimistic again.”

“Your face is being stupid.”

“It's a very attractive face.”

“Debatable.”

He grinned.

She looked back at the listing.

Two bedrooms.

Separate spaces.

A shared kitchen.

A living room where they could argue over television choices and pretend not to care who sat beside whom.

They already knew how to share space. They had spent years studying together, visiting each other's homes and turning ordinary afternoons into competitions neither of them knew how to lose.

How difficult could living together actually be?

Theo leaned against the desk.

“It's not the worst idea we've ever had.”

Isla raised an eyebrow.

“Remember when you convinced me we could make pancakes without a recipe?”

“You ate them.”

“They were raw.”

“You said they were fine.”

“I was trying to be supportive.”

“See? That's friendship.”

She laughed, then looked at the photographs again.

It was practical.

That was all.

They needed somewhere to live, and they trusted each other.

Besides, they were best friends. If anyone could make a shared flat work, it was them.

Right?

Her phone buzzed again.

Ruby: The landlord wants to arrange viewings tomorrow. I told him you might be interested. PLEASE don't make this complicated.

Theo looked at Isla.

Isla looked at Theo.

He held out his hand.

“Shall we?”

She placed her hand in his and shook it solemnly.

“Fine. But if you leave dirty plates in the sink, I'm changing the locks.”

“If you steal my food, I'm reporting you to the police.”

“If you bring home someone who can't hold a conversation, I'm setting off the fire alarm.”

“If you sing in the shower, I'm moving out.”

She gasped.

“You love my singing.”

“I love peace.”

“You're a horrible person.”

“And yet, you're about to agree to live with me.”

She released his hand.

“Temporary insanity.”

“Obviously.”

Neither of them knew what living together would change.

Neither of them considered that sharing a flat might reveal feelings they had spent years unknowingly building towards.

For now, it was just a solution to a housing problem.

Two bedrooms.

One shared living room.

And one very, very bad idea.

End of Chapter One.