Venmo Me for That Breath,Surviving My Psychotic Roommate

My scholarship-kid roommate sucked at basic math. Whenever there was a BOGO coffee deal, she’d claim the free cup was hers, and that I had to split the cost of my own drink with her. When she got food poisoning in the middle of the night, I rushed her to Urgent Care. But afterward, she crossed her arms and said: "I didn't even want to go to the clinic. I just wanted a two-dollar pill from CVS. You’re the one who forced me to go. I'm not paying for the Uber, and I'm only giving you one dollar for the meds." Knowing she came from a poor background, our dorm cut her some slack. Until she got a boyfriend who was just as obsessed with splitting bills down to the cent. She once asked him how many slices of a Swiss roll she could eat from an eight-pack. Her boyfriend replied: "Babe, you can eat however many you want—as long as you Venmo me for every single bite." I warned her to run, but she accused me of being jealous of her ‘perfect relationship’ and pushed me down the stairs to my death. My other two roommates secured fast-track grad school spots by keeping their mouths shut and calling it an "accident." Now that I’ve been reborn, I’m going to make sure they stick together. Let's see who Brenda leeches off of when I’m no longer her personal piggy bank. The second I saw the coffee order screen in front of me, I realized I had actually traveled back in time. In my previous life, my roommate Brenda wanted to split a BOGO coffee promotion with me. Seeing how eager she looked, I agreed. Yet, after bringing the drinks back, she tossed one to me and said, "The free one was mine. Yours was $6.50." Before I could even process what she just said, Brenda added, "Oh, and you owe me a $3 delivery fee for picking it up." Before I could object, my other two roommates shot me warnings with their eyes. Knowing Brenda was struggling financially, I swallowed my pride and paid up. That very night, Brenda started throwing up and had violent diarrhea. I rushed her to the hospital, paid for the Uber and the medical bills, only for her to turn around and call me a busybody. She only Venmo’d me a pathetic $1.50. Her excuse? "I only needed a three-dollar generic pill. If you hadn’t made me drink that coffee, I wouldn't have gotten sick. Giving you a dollar fifty is me being generous." After taking that hit, I completely cut her off. But soon, she slapped a self-diagnosed depression sheet onto my desk. "Your cold attitude gave me depression. You should cover my therapy and prescription costs." I had never met anyone so unhinged. Fueled by the instigations of our other two roommates, we ended up in a massive brawl. Brenda grabbed a fistful of my hair and shoved me straight down the dormitory stairwell. My roommates didn't even bother calling 911 first. Instead, they coordinated their stories, telling everyone I tripped and fell on my own. In the end, all three of them made a scene with the dean and walked away with coveted grad school recommendations. One of them even said, "Brenda comes from a poor family; it's natural she needed the money. Chloe was just petty. She deserved it." Yet, whenever Brenda demanded cash back in the dorm, those two always buried their heads in the sand like ostriches. In this life, without me playing their financial shield, I want to see if they can still talk that big game when they’re forced to foot her bills. Swallowing the fury in my chest, I flashed Brenda a sweet smile: "Oh, what a shame! I just placed an order for myself. Why don’t you ask Taylor and Ashley?" Since it was the start of the semester, nobody wanted to turn down a friendly roommate invite. Soon enough, Brenda and Taylor ordered together. Brenda deliberately sauntered past my desk, sneering in a passive-aggressive voice: "Oh Chloe, you look so skinny, but you drink two full cups all by yourself? Must be nice having rich parents. Unlike me, who actually has to split orders to survive." Taylor and Ashley instantly jumped on the bandwagon, nodding along. Ashley scoffed, "Money burning a hole in your pocket, huh?" I merely smiled and said nothing. Wasting words on these parasites was just a waste of breath. The delivery arrived quickly. Before I could even step outside, Brenda kicked the dorm door open, holding two bags. She announced loudly, "I’m exhausted! Pickup fee is $3 per person." With that, she shoved her Venmo QR code right into my face. I crossed my arms and stared back at her coldly. Taylor’s face twisted in disgust as well. I knew Brenda was testing my boundaries. The standard campus rate for grabbing someone’s package was barely a dollar. Brenda had grabbed my order without asking, and now she was demanding triple the market rate. I took a deep breath, feeling my blood pressure spike. "Brenda, I never asked you to pick up my drink, and you didn't ask before taking it." I kept my voice calm. "Besides, campus runners charge a dollar. Asking for three bucks is pure extortion." Brenda’s face darkened immediately, stepping up aggressively. "I did you a favor, and you’re complaining? You know I'm on financial aid! Your family is loaded, what's wrong with paying a little extra friendship tax?" A 'friendship tax'? That was rich. I didn’t want to blow everything up just yet, but I wasn't going to be a pushover either. I sent her exactly one dollar—not a single cent more. "We’re roommates, Brenda, not besties. You get market price. And if you touch my deliveries without permission again, don't expect me to be this nice."The moment the money hit her account, Brenda put on her signature victim face. Right on cue, the other two roommates swarmed her like vultures smelling blood, comforting her while throwing jabs at me. "Brenda already has it so rough, why do you have to be so stingy? Typical rich girl acting all petty." "Don't worry, Brenda, I'll send you five dollars. Carrying two bags all the way up must’ve been so exhausting." With memories of my past life, I knew exactly what Brenda was. Give her an inch, and she’d drain your bank account dry. I just hoped they’d keep that same energy later tonight. Their little pity party didn't last long. Right around midnight, Brenda and Taylor were both doubled over, violently vomiting and running to the bathroom with explosive diarrhea. Ashley sat on her bed, frozen in fear, too terrified to speak. History was repeating itself. But this time, I wasn’t going to be Brenda’s financial sponge, nor would I indulge her insane math. I lay in bed, listening to the groans outside. Brenda, of course, wasn’t going to leave me alone. She yanked my bed curtain open, standing there pale and sweaty. "Chloe, can you drive us to Urgent Care? Our stomachs are killing us." I frowned. "What does your bad stomach have to do with me? And ripping open someone's privacy curtain is disgusting." Before I could even finish, Brenda burst into tears, wailing like a siren. "We’re roommates! How can you be so heartless? Helping someone in an emergency won't kill you!" If I hadn't lived through this once, I might have felt bad. But now I knew that driving her to the clinic was just the first step down her financial rabbit hole. This time, I was happily handing that golden opportunity over to my "generous" roommates. Faced with my icy wall of silence, the three of them had no choice but to call an Uber themselves. Before leaving, Ashley glared at me with pure venom. I held her gaze unflinchingly until she looked away first. The next morning, they still weren't back. Instead, our dorm was greeted by a furious Dean Miller. "Chloe, your roommates fell sick in the middle of the night. How could you just lie there and watch without lifting a finger?" "You just started college. Your character is still forming. You can't be this self-centered, do you understand?" I almost laughed at the sheer audacity. In my previous life, the only reason Brenda got away with pushing me down the stairs was because our academic advisor, Mr. Miller, helped cover it up alongside my roommates. It wasn't until later that I found out they were actually distant relatives, and Brenda’s financial aid slot had been illegally funneled to her by Miller himself. I felt sick looking at him, but I forced an innocent, frightened expression onto my face. "Mr. Miller, I didn't think it was that serious. I was just so exhausted, I couldn't keep my eyes open." Seeing my submissive attitude, Miller nodded in smug satisfaction. "Admitting your mistake is the first step. I’m taking you to the hospital now. You need to apologize to Brenda properly. Your family is well-off, so it’s your responsibility to look out for underprivileged students." He might as well have just jammed his hand into my purse and taken my wallet. I kept a polite smile on my face, discreetly ensuring the voice recorder on my phone was still running. When we reached the clinic, Brenda and Taylor were both hooked up to IV drips. Ashley was sitting nearby, glued to her phone. The second Brenda saw me, she rolled her eyes so hard they nearly fell out of her head. "Thought my business had nothing to do with you? What are you doing here crawling back?" Before I could reply, she shoved a crumpled bill into my hands. "The doctor said it’s acute gastroenteritis from spoiled food. I thought about it, and it must have been that coffee I drank from your desk. You have to cover part of this bill." "Of course, I’m not unreasonable. I'll split it with you. I usually just buy a two-dollar pack of stomach pills from Walmart. So I'll split that two dollars with you. I wouldn't want to take advantage of you."I raised an eyebrow. "Let me get this straight. You stole the coffee off my desk, decided it made you sick, and now you want me to pay your hospital bill?" Brenda sneered, entirely devoid of shame. "Exactly. It was your coffee, so it’s your fault." I glanced down at the $400 clinic bill, then turned to Taylor. "And you? Did you also only budget two dollars for meds?" Taylor looked away, refusing to meet my eyes. "Yes." Miller chimed in right on cue, applying pressure. "Chloe, apologize to your roommates and pay the cashier. It's just a few dollars, don't make a scene over nothing." Ashley muttered under her breath, "Don't forget the Uber ride here." They claimed they didn't want to take advantage, yet they were trying to pin the ride-share bill on me too. The sheer hypocrisy was breathtaking. Even a saint would snap, let alone someone who had already been murdered by them once. I smiled, nodding cheerfully, then waved over a passing nurse. "Excuse me, could you pull their IVs out?" Brenda shrieked instantly. "Chloe, are you insane?! Who gave you the right to pull my IV?!" I crumpled the paper bill into a tight ball and jammed it straight into Brenda’s wide-open mouth. "I did," I whispered with a toxic smile. "Because I'm the one who's supposedly paying for it." Taylor lunged forward to shove me, but I sidestepped and shoved her hard, sending her crashing back into the plastic chair. I turned to the bewildered nurse, smiling sweetly. "Please pull their needles out. Thank you." Despite my smile, my eyes must have looked murderous. The terrified nurse hurriedly pulled the needles from Brenda and Taylor’s arms and scurried away without even handing them a cotton swab. Miller was a tall, bulky man, but seeing me turn completely unhinged, he froze in place, too cowardly to step closer. As for Ashley, she curled into a ball like a trembling quail, flinching every time I raised my voice. Miller swallowed hard, trying to regain authority. "Chloe! It was just a small fee! Do you have to cause such a scene? Where is your sense of community?!" I grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the payment desk. "Oh, Mr. Miller, since you love community so much, why don't you pay for Brenda and Taylor?" "Oh, and don't forget their Uber ride! After all, I'm just a poor student without that kind of cash. If I end up starving to death, you might just find me on the roof of the campus building." Having his own sanctimonious words thrown back in his face, Miller turned purple with rage. I could practically hear his teeth grinding as he tapped his Apple Pay. Once the transaction cleared, he glared at me. "Happy now? Now apologize to your roommates!" I pulled two blister packs of Imodium from my pocket and slapped them into Brenda's lap. "Now that your bill is settled, let's settle mine. These are for diarrhea—sixteen dollars a box. Since you and Taylor both need them, that's eight dollars each." "Eight minus your two-dollar budget means you each owe me six bucks. Plus the Uber fare, plus the coffee you stole from my desk..." I pulled up the calculator on my phone. "All in all, you guys owe me twenty bucks each." Brenda stared at me in disbelief, utterly shocked that I was using her own twisted math against her. Her trembling finger pointed at me, stuttering, unable to form a coherent sentence. I flashed my Venmo QR code right in front of her contorted face. "Come on, pay up, my 'generous' roommates."