"I get it, Andrew," Jamie says, clearly holding back tears. "I kinda already figured as much, I guess I just didn't want to admit it to myself." He quickly wipes away an errant glob of water. "Sorry, I shouldn't be like this, it's not like you hate me or anything. Still friends, right?" You nod reassuringly, and a slight smile creeps to his lips.
"Thank you. Well, I mean, thank you for being honest," he says, and grips you in a fierce, brief embrace. "Man, I should have grabbed that drink while I had the chance!" Despite his slightly puffy eyes, you can tell that he's already feeling a bit better. He walks off, promising to see you at work tomorrow.
Taking a steadying breath and trying to ease the surprising amount of tension that has built up in your body, you turn the key and step into your studio. You are somewhat startled to see that Michael, your now ex-roommate, has yet to pick up his things - his ridiculously humongous size 15 shoes are still scattered across the floor, and his dirty laundry is still in his hamper, along with all of his other personal effects.
Huh, that's weird, you think. He said he'd grab the stuff when I was in class... You shrug it off, deciding to just roll into bed fully clothed; it seems that your headache is beginning to return. Breathing deeply and trying to ignore the slight throbbing, you slowly drift off to sleep.
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