The Freshman No One Dared Room With Chapter 2

I had literally just saved the guy from a medical emergency. He knew I was a decent person. Even if there were some insane rumors floating around, he wouldn't believe them.

Mr. Harrison and I had practically knocked on every door in the building except for one. I had been too heartbroken to try the last room on the list.

I never expected Noah to be living in that exact room.

I held my breath, waiting for him to nod and save me from this nightmare.

Instead, the color completely drained from Noah's face the second the word "roommate" left my mouth.

"No. We're full."

His friendly smile vanished, replaced by a look of absolute terror. He stepped back, putting distance between us. "My roommates would never agree to it anyway."

"Noah, why? Why does everyone hate the idea of living with me?" My voice cracked. I gripped his jacket, completely breaking down. I did not even care about moving into his room anymore. I just wanted the truth. "You know I'm a good guy. Just tell me what's wrong with me, and I'll fix it."

He yanked himself out of my grip, his eyes darting around nervously.

"There's no reason. We just don't want you there."

Feeling entirely hopeless, I took to an anonymous college advice forum.

I poured my heart out. We are all freshmen, we are all strangers, so why am I the only one being treated like a monster?

The internet was quick to offer theories.

One comment caught my eye. "Did someone start a rumor that you have a severe contagious disease?"

A chill ran down my spine. It made horrible sense. Lately, there had been some privacy controversies on campus regarding students with severe bloodborne viruses. To protect their identities, the school never released names.

Did someone point the finger at me?

I did not waste a single second. I booked an appointment at the local hospital and requested a full panel. I tested for every communicable disease under the sun.

The agonizing wait took days, but the results finally hit my inbox. Everything was negative. I was perfectly healthy.

I was so relieved that I literally projected my medical records onto the smartboard before a lecture started. Just to prove I hadn't photoshopped anything, I logged into the hospital portal live in front of thirty people and pulled up the official documents.

I thought the nightmare was over. The misunderstanding was cleared up.

But when I asked around the room afterward, people just looked at the floor. Still, nobody would take me in.

I posted the update online, begging for more advice.

"Maybe they think you're psychologically unstable? Like, an actual psycho?" another user suggested.

Back to the hospital I went. I sat through hours of rigorous psychiatric evaluations.

The results were crystal clear. My mental health was perfectly stable. No disorders, no red flags.

I showed these papers to everyone. I even had my childhood friends record video testimonials swearing I was the most normal, harmless guy on the planet.

It didn't change a thing. The mere mention of me moving in made guys threaten to pack their bags and leave the state.

At this point, the internet turned on me. Since neither health nor sanity was the issue, the anonymous crowd decided I was the villain. The comments shifted from helpful to brutal.

"Bro is definitely leaving out the part where he's a total creep."

"You don't get universally hated for zero reason. You're definitely hiding something messed up."

"Engagement bait. Block this clown."

My inbox flooded with death threats and vile insults. Completely defeated, I deleted the post and locked my phone.

‘3

The bizarre legend of my rejection bled into other majors.

People who didn't even know me started whispering when I walked through the quad. Some claimed I had committed an unforgivable crime in my hometown. Others swore I was a walking biohazard. Every time I stepped into an academic building, I could feel the heavy, judgmental stares burning into my back.

I had been living in a cheap motel for half a month, and the daily rates were bleeding my bank account dry.

With zero options left, I had to do the one thing I dreaded most. I had to ask my parents for more money.

But when I FaceTimed them, I saw them sitting on the dusty tailgate of a rusted pickup truck at their construction site, eating cold, dry sandwiches. The words died in my throat.

My parents had me late in life. Terrified that they wouldn't be able to provide enough, they decided I would be their only child. We were never rich, but they worked their fingers to the bone to give me everything. They did not have fancy degrees and couldn't pull strings to help me in the real world, but their love was the only thing keeping me sane.

"Arthur, honey, how are the dorms? Are you getting along with the boys?" my mom asked, wiping dust off her cheek.

"We know you're a bit quiet, but try to put yourself out there. Order a pizza for the room," my dad chimed in. "Making a few solid buddies will make the workload way easier."

My mom squinted at the screen. "Are you eating enough, sweetie? You look so skinny, and it's only been a few weeks."

Hearing the pure, unconditional love in her voice against the backdrop of my living nightmare almost broke me. Tears pricked my eyes.

I made up an excuse about being late for a study group and hung up fast. Even though I didn't ask, a notification popped up a minute later. Mom had transferred a hundred bucks with a note telling me to buy something nice for dinner.

I had to get out of that motel.

I begged Mr. Harrison to look outside our major. Anywhere. Any building.

Finally, his relentless emailing paid off. He found a single open bed.

"It's a suite full of seniors from the engineering program," Mr. Harrison explained, looking visibly relieved. "Most of them are off doing internships, so the place is pretty quiet. Both their RD and I talked to them. They know your situation, and they actually agreed to let you move in."

I literally cried. I thanked him over and over. Finally, someone was willing to treat me like a human being.

I packed my bags with a massive smile on my face, moved into the suite, and spent three hours deep cleaning the entire place. I scrubbed the floors and wiped down the counters, hoping to give my older roommates a great impression whenever they returned.

I didn't have to wait long. I had only enjoyed two peaceful nights of normal college life when I got a text saying one of the seniors was coming back from his internship.

I didn't sleep a wink that night. The next day, I was a nervous wreck, terrified he would take one look at me and demand I leave.

But my fears were completely unfounded.

Chris, the senior, was incredibly chill. He walked in, tossed his duffel bag on the couch, and handed me a box of fancy donuts he brought from the city. When he saw the spotless kitchen, he acted like he had won the lottery, calling me the greatest freshman to ever exist.

For the first time since stepping foot on this campus, I felt the warmth of actual friendship.

Chris and I clicked. Everything felt like it was finally falling into place.

Until Thursday.

I had just finished my afternoon lab. I bought a huge pizza and a massive watermelon, excited to crush some video games with Chris like we planned.

But when I turned the corner to our suite, the hallway was completely packed.

Chris was standing there with his arms crossed. Next to him were Mr. Harrison, the engineering RD, and two guys I didn't recognize. Judging by the aggressive body language, they had to be the other two seniors living in the suite.

"No way. He packs his trash and leaves tonight."

4

"We're seniors, man. Why the hell did you dump a random freshman in our space?" one of the strangers yelled.

"We will literally pay for the empty bed ourselves. We'll split the cost three ways. Just get Arthur out of here."

I stood frozen. Chris, the guy who had been laughing and eating donuts with me yesterday, was currently glaring at the door like he wanted to physically throw my belongings out the window.

My brain short-circuited. My grip slipped.

The heavy watermelon crashed onto the hard linoleum floor. It shattered into pieces, the bright red juice bleeding across the tiles like my own fractured heart.

"Chris... what's going on?" I stammered, my voice trembling. "I thought we were cool. We were just hanging out."

"Why is everyone doing this to me? What did I do?"

I completely snapped. I dropped the pizza box, ran over, and grabbed Chris by his hoodie, begging him to just talk to me. I was practically on my knees in the middle of the hallway.

Chris just looked at me with eyes as cold as ice. He yanked his hoodie out of my hands.

"Pack your stuff and leave, Arthur. Now."

He warned me that if I didn't willingly walk out that door, they would blast music and scream until the entire dorm building called campus security.

Even when Mr. Harrison threatened them with disciplinary action right before graduation, the seniors didn't flinch. They would rather face academic penalties than sleep under the same roof as me.

Not wanting to cause a scene that would get me expelled, I silently packed my bags.

Mr. Harrison pulled me aside, looking completely defeated. He admitted there was literally not a single room left on campus that would accept me. He promised to expedite a full refund of my housing fees so I could rent a cheap apartment off campus.

I was too numb to argue. I accepted defeat. I found a grueling part-time job at a busy campus coffee shop to cover the rent of a tiny studio apartment.

Thankfully, between my fast-tracked refund and the coffee shop tips, I was able to make ends meet without begging my parents for cash.

A week later, I was wiping down the espresso machine when a familiar face walked up to the register.

Noah.

Ever since he rejected me outside his dorm, we had avoided each other like the plague.

But today, seeing me in the apron, he actually initiated a conversation.

"Arthur... I just wanted to say thank you again. For that first day." He rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to make eye contact. "If you hadn't caught me, I probably would have cracked my skull on the pavement."

"Anyone would have done it. Don't worry about it," I replied, my voice completely flat. I slid his iced latte across the counter. The relentless rejections had drained every ounce of empathy out of my body. I was done trying to be the nice guy.

"Look, Arthur, I..."

Noah looked agonizingly guilty. Gone was the panicked, defensive guy who had backed away from me in the hallway. He paced around the pickup counter for several minutes, clearly wrestling with something massive. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come.

Eventually, the shift manager yelled at him to clear the line, and he bolted out the door.

"What was his deal?" my coworker asked, raising an eyebrow. "Looks like he owes you a thousand bucks with that sad puppy expression."

I just shook my head. Truth be told, I was noticing a really bizarre shift in the campus dynamic.

The moment I moved off campus and officially gave up on the dorms, the invisible wall around me started to crack.

Guys who used to sprint the other way when I walked past were suddenly nodding at me in the library. When professors assigned group projects, I wasn't the last one picked anymore. People actually invited me to their study tables.

Noah was the most obvious. He constantly hovered around me in lectures, clearly desperate to mend fences, but always choking up before he could explain himself.

I couldn't figure out the logic, but honestly? I didn't care anymore.

If playing the role of the off-campus loner got me through the next four years in peace, I would gladly take it. Once I grabbed my degree, I was leaving this weird, toxic place behind forever.

I had made my peace with it. But someone else hadn't.