Keep Me Close
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Julie Mar
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76.1K
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43
Who knew getting an apartment could be so stressful? Callie has just finished high school and desperately needs somewhere to live before college starts. Fortunately, she finds the perfect apartment: close to campus, affordable, and surprisingly cozy. There’s just one catch—Adam, her mysterious new roommate. As Callie and Adam grow closer, strange messages begin appearing on her phone. Someone is watching them. And the deeper Callie falls for Adam, the more dangerous the truth behind his past becomes.
Chapter 1: I Have a Problem
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
“I’m sorry, young lady,” the man was telling me, annoyed. “But I’ve told you a thousand times already—I don’t know any Travis Olton, and there are no apartments currently for rent.” He let out a huff. “I think you got scammed, sweetheart.”
Up until that very moment, I thought everything would be fine. The landlord was mistaken, or maybe I was at the wrong address, or maybe Travis had messed up and confused one of his rentals with another. But now, hearing those words, my hopes plummeted completely.
“Wonderful,” I answered, trying to hold back my tears. “Just great.”
“Hope he didn’t get you for too much,” the landlord told me.
“I’d sent him the down payment,” I answered, mind still reeling. “Two grand.”
“Ah.” The man scratched the back of his bald head, looking like he had no idea what to say. “Could be worse.”
Oh, but it was. I had started my summer as any nineteen-year-old would: glad high school was over, still high off of my gap year, and eager to start college and my new life. I had signed up for student housing on campus since that seemed like the best option, and had been readily accepted.
Then, three weeks ago, they sent out a campus-wide email saying the building I was assigned had been flooded. Badly.
I expected reassignment. Instead, they were all “we regret to inform you” and refunded my deposit. That was it.
That was followed by two weeks of nonstop sleuthing online—Craigslist, Facebook groups, sketchy rental sites. Anything within an hour of USC. I wasn’t picky.
I just needed a roof, a lock, and a functional bathroom.
Finally, I found one. A cute little room, close to campus, not too expensive. The guy seemed legit, and we’d been emailing for the past week.
Cue the womp-womp sound.
“Thank you for your help,” I told the landlord quickly, holding back the hiccup in my voice. Without waiting for an answer, I walked back the way I’d come, quickly taking my phone from my pocket and dialing that prick’s number.
Nothing. I dialed it again. “Come on, come on, come on, you little fucking asshole,” I whispered to myself, praying to whatever deity in the sky Travis would answer.
When the call went to voicemail again, I wanted to scream. My grip tightened around the phone, and when the tears came, I wiped them with my hand and rushed to my car.
Well, my mom’s car. She let me borrow it to visit my future apartment and meet my landlord. Ha.
The drive home was uneventful, if you don’t count the myriad of curses that rang through my mind. And the desperation that was clawing at my throat. This had just been the cherry on top, hadn’t it?
What was I supposed to do now? College classes started in a week, and I couldn’t exactly drive four hours round trip every day. Finding an apartment this close to the beginning of the semester was going to be impossible.
Was my college career set to die before it had even begun?
***
It was a miracle I didn’t pull up to my driveway in tears. I stepped out of the car, completely drained, and headed toward the front door. My mom would be devastated; she had been so excited for me about this chance for me to—
“Congratulations on your new apartment, sweetie!” my mother yelled as I walked through the doorway. She was holding a cake in her arms, the candles lit and sparkling. “The rest of your life is right around the corner now.”
Suddenly, emotion clogged my throat. I couldn’t speak, but my expression must have been clear enough, because my mother’s face fell.
“Is everything okay, baby?”
“No,” I managed to spit out. “It was a scam.”
“What?” my mother exclaimed, placing the cake on the counter and rushing forward. “What happened?”
“It was a scam,” I repeated. “There was no apartment. Travis took the down payment and disappeared. I tried calling him, but…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Oh, Callie.” Her arms curled around me, holding me tight. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. Getting scammed like that is awful and unfair.” A pause. “For what it’s worth, this kind of thing happens to almost everyone at some point. It’s actually sort of a milestone—it means you’re officially an adult.”
“That sucks,” I answered grimly.
“Yeah, well, welcome to the rest of your life,” my mother joked. Then, carefully, she patted my back. “Come on now, you’ll be fine. We’ll figure something out.”
“How?” I asked, frustration rising up again. “School is in a week, Mom. I have nowhere to stay. And I can’t use your car to drive there since you need it for work, so…” My voice was just above a whisper. “What am I supposed to do?”
“I’ll ask around,” my mother said gently. “I have some friends in the city. Maybe they could host you for a few weeks? Just while you look for your own place?”
I sniffled. “I guess.”
“See? It’s already solved,” my mother said, releasing me from the hug. “Now, let’s celebrate you becoming an adult with the biggest piece of cake that is legally acceptable. How does that sound?”
At that, I even had the urge to smile. “Sounds amazing, Mom.”
***
I had been staring at the same page for at least half an hour. The cup of tea was now cold in my hands, and the blanket I had grabbed had haphazardly fallen to the floor, but I didn’t care.
My mind couldn’t focus at all—it was like whatever I did, whatever I thought about, it immediately went back to that scammer and how stupid I’d been to believe a single word of his.
After the catastrophe yesterday that might have ruined my freshman year—no biggie—I had spent my morning attached to my computer, refusing to quit until I found another suitable place to live. It was only at two o’clock that my mother checked on me before leaving for her shift and had found me bent over my desk, eyes red.
She was so angry that I’d neglected myself that she’d forced me to step away from my desk. And when I mentioned I hadn’t eaten yet, she’d locked my computer in the closet and told me to chill. Then she left.
Frankly, she should be grateful I hadn’t axed my way through the door yet.
Anyway, I had tried to chill. Really, I had. But I could not chill.
Not when other freshmen—ones who didn’t have the devil play with their lives—were currently moving into their dorms, getting psyched for classes, and meeting new people. Well, I didn’t really care for that last one, but still.
I was already behind, and I itched to do something about it. Just then, the front door unlocked, and I glanced up to see my mother walk inside, still in her scrubs.
“Hey, sweetie,” she called.
“Hi, Mom,” I answered. “How was work today?”
“Ah, same old,” she chuckled. “You tell a kid to keep his mouth open so that I can do his cleaning, and as soon as I bring out the dental pick, he bites down.”
“That is a perfect reaction,” I said back. “That kid knows the pain that comes with dental cleaning.”
“Ha ha,” she laughed, putting her purse down on the floor. “Have you eaten yet?”
“Nope,” I said. “But I can cook something while you shower?”
“That would be great, Callie,” my mother said. Then, with a suspicious twinkle in her eye, she smiled. “And make something good to go with the news.”
“News?” I asked, confused. “What news?”
“Ah-ah.” She wagged a finger in the air. “Not telling. It’s very good news, but I’ll only tell you over food.” With a wink, she wandered upstairs to wash up.
Twenty minutes later, the table was set, the pasta was being topped with parmesan, and we were sitting down at the table.
“This looks wonderful, Callie,” my mother crooned, quickly taking a first bite. “Mm, it really tastes as good as it looks.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I answered, starting to eat myself. “So, what’s the news?”
“So impatient,” my mother teased. She swallowed before going on. “I think I found a place for you to stay.”
“What?” I asked, the food forgotten in an instant.
My mother nodded. “You know Clara? From that Pilates class I took three years ago?”
“Not in the least.”
She rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t matter. She has a niece whose boyfriend’s mom is friends with this woman, and this woman’s son has a place.”
I blinked. “Huh?”
“This woman has a son who also goes to USC,” she repeated clearly. “He has an apartment close to the school, and his roommate apparently moved out a while ago.” My mother cleared her throat. “I know it’s not ideal and that you wanted a studio…but this is real. You’d just have to talk to this guy and see if you get along. I have his number right here.”
“That sounds…suspicious,” I told her. “How do you know this isn’t another scam?”
“Because I know these people!” my mother exclaimed, sounding almost offended.
“You know, like, the fifth person down the line,” I countered. “Are you sure this is real?”
My mom looked at me gently, then placed a hand over my own. “You’ll never get anywhere if you don’t try, sweetie. And I’m sure your father would say the same if he were still here.”
I held her stare for another moment before releasing a heavy sigh. She was right.
Dad would push me to do this kind of thing. To try.
“Fine. Give me his number. I’ll call him.”
