HIS ROOMMATE

THE ROOM INHALE

CHAPTER 23

KAI'S POV

The doors open and warm air rushes out, smelling like perfume, punch, and too much hairspray. Chandeliers drip light over marble floors. The DJ’s already going — some remix that makes the whole room vibrate. Couples spin on the dance floor. Tables line the walls, loaded with those little desserts nobody eats but everyone photographs.

And then the room does that thing. That pause. Heads turn. Conversations dip mid-sentence.

Because two girls walked in without dates, wearing dresses that cost more than most people’s textbooks, looking like we owned the place.

Nancy squeezes my arm. Low, just for me: “Told you. We ruined it.”

My heart’s pounding, but not from nerves. From this. From walking into a room and not shrinking. From choosing this night, even when I swore I wouldn’t.

The DJ switches tracks. Lights sweep over us. And for one second, it feels like the whole prom is holding its breath, waiting to see what we’ll do next.

ADRIAN'S POV

After dressing up for the prom, I was about to call Kai to check up on her. She said she wasn't coming for the prom and I understand. I adjust my tie in the rearview mirror and tell myself I’m not disappointed, That Kai said no. She said she’s still dealing with Edward, and I get it. Trauma doesn’t work on prom schedules. I had my phone in my hand, her name on the screen, ready to check if she changed her mind. Ready to say “you don’t have to dance, just show up.” she is my friend after all I would like it if we can have this one night together. There is no other prom for us after this...

Then Valerie calls.

“Ready?” she asks, voice bright like she already knows the answer.

I exhale, drop the phone back in my pocket, and grab my keys. Some promises you keep, even when your chest feels heavier than it should.

Valerie opens her door before I even cut the engine. And yeah — stunning is the only word that works. Red dress, fitted, cut high enough to make me forget full sentences. Her hair’s down tonight, falling past her shoulders like she let it loose just for this. She’s always been beautiful. Since we were kids trading Pokémon cards on her porch. First crush. First girlfriend. Only girlfriend.

“Tonight’s memorable,” I say as she slides in, and I mean it. Tonight I’m doing it. Ring in my jacket pocket, small black box burning a hole through the lining. Official. Permanent. No more “boyfriend/girlfriend.” Just mine.

We pull up to Riverside Grand and the cameras explode. Flash, flash, flash. Parents, classmates, that one kid who runs the school i********: — all of them. Valerie and I, front and center, like we were designed for this shot.

She looks up at me, eyes wide and smiling like she knows exactly what I’m thinking. I smile back. Can’t help it. The crowd’s watching, the music’s thumping from inside, and suddenly it feels right.

I lean down and kiss her. Soft, quick, but enough that the crowd loses it. Clapping. Whistles. Someone yells “About time!”

Valerie pulls back giggling, cheeks pink under the flashes. “Someone’s getting possessive,” she whispers, but she’s not pulling away.

I grin, hand finding hers. “I can’t help it.”

The doors swing open and warm air rolls over us. Music, perfume, the buzz of a hundred conversations all hitting at once. For half a second the weight in my chest lifts. Prom looks exactly like it’s supposed to — chandeliers dripping light, the dance floor already crowded, tables full of those little desserts nobody actually eats.

We cut through the crowd and find the others.

Ash is holding court by the bar, suit jacket slung over one shoulder, smile dialed to “illegal.” He’s got three girls laughing at something stupid he said. Typical Ash.

Leo’s here with his date, arm slung around her like he’s afraid she’ll float away if he lets go. Mike too, pulling Cindy close like she’s the only person in the room. Couples everywhere. Perfect couples. Perfect night. Exactly how I pictured it when I was fifteen and thought prom was the end of something instead of the beginning.

We grab a spot near the railing overlooking the floor. Valerie’s hand stays in mine. Her thumb traces circles on my knuckles like she knows I’m thinking too hard.

Leo sighs, eyes scanning the crowd. “Kai should’ve been here.” His voice drops. “I mean… this is our first and last prom as a group. After graduation, we scatter.”

Mike nods, jaw tight. “I’m moving to the States next month. This was supposed to be all of us. One last night before everything changes.”

The words hang there. First and last. Before everything changes.

I swallow and force a smile. “Kai’s dealing with some stuff,” I say. “With Edward. She’s stubborn. If she says she needs space, we give it to her. Better than pushing her and making it worse.”

Valerie squeezes my hand. Nobody argues. We all know Kai. Know that look she gets when she shuts down.

And then the room changes.

It starts small — a gasp near the entrance. Then another. The DJ’s track dips for half a beat before he catches it. Conversations stutter. Heads turn in a slow wave, like the whole ballroom inhaled at once.

Something’s happening.

I turn with everyone else, Valerie still beside me, ring heavy in my pocket.

Two girls just walked in.

And the entire room turned.

“Is that—” Mike starts, but he doesn’t get to finish.

Ash beats him to it. He’s already leaning forward on the railing, eyes narrowed like he’s seeing a ghost. “Kai?”

The word hits me harder than it should.

Because yeah. It’s her.

I’ve known Kai since like months ago. Hoodies two sizes too big. Sneakers that survived more fights than I have. Hair tied up like she lost a bet with a hair tie. She’s the girl who’d rather dismantle a car engine than talk about prom dresses. Tomboy down to her bones. The one who rolled her eyes when I asked her to winter formal and said “I’d rather be at the garage, thanks.”

This girl standing in the doorway? Black dress that fits like it was made for her. Heels. Hair pinned up in a way that shows her neck, her shoulders. She looks sharp. Elegant. Like the city cut her edges and polished them.

I’ve never seen her like this. Not once. Not even for school photos.

My brain stutters. That’s Kai. My Kai. The girl who helped me change a tire in the rain and told me my jokes were “mid.” The same girl I ran over and brought to leave in my house. The girl who said she wasn’t coming tonight because of Edward. The girl who swore dresses were “a scam invented by capitalism.”

She’s here. And she looks like she owns the room.

The crowd’s still buzzing. Phones lifting. Whispers starting. But all I can hear is my own pulse.

Valerie’s hand tightens in mine. I didn’t even realize I’d stopped breathing.

“Kai,” I say again, quieter this time. Like if I say it soft enough, it’ll make sense.

She doesn’t see me yet. She’s scanning the room, expression unreadable, Nancy’s arm linked through hers like armor.

And I’m standing here in a suit, with a ring in my pocket and Valerie at my side, watching the one person I thought would never walk through those doors turn the whole night upside down.

KAI'S POV

The second those doors opened, I hated it.

The attention. The noise. The way every head in the room turned like we’d set off a fire alarm. Flashes went off. Conversations died mid-sentence. A hundred eyes pinned me to the marble floor and I swear my dress got heavier.

What’s so unusual? I wanted to ask. Two girls in dresses? Last time I checked, this was a prom, not a museum exhibit.

I dragged in a breath and forced my shoulders down. Calm. Breathe. Smile. If I didn’t, I’d bolt. Right through those doors, back to my apartment, straight into my hoodie and pajama pants where nobody stared and nobody whispered. That version of me knew how to handle rooms. This version in heels and black silk? She felt like a fraud.

I let my eyes sweep the room, looking for an anchor. Anything familiar.

TBC