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After the assembly,I head to my room to grab my bag forclass.
But as I get to the top of the stairs and glance down the hall, I realize my door is ajar.Whatthe…?
I push itwide.
Inside is a girl with long, dark hair up in a giant topknot. She has on Beats headphones, and she’s brought a backpack and a single trunk that’s wedged at the end of the second bed that’s been untouched since I moved inyesterday.
“Hey,” I volunteer. “I’m Annie. I guess we’reroommates.”
The girl doesn’t answer or take off her headphones but reaches for an earpiece to touch abutton.
“Are you Raegan Madani?” I try again. This time, she cuts a glance over hershoulder.
“Rae.”
According to the scant roommate info form that included names, contact emails, and majors, she’s in contemporary music likeme.
Rae opens her backpack, takes out a bunch of tiny figures, and sets them on the top of her headboard. They’re little knitted dolls with yarnhair.
Before I can ask, Rae pulls something else out of her bag. “In or out?” sheasks.
When I don’t respond, she grabs a clean shirt, twists it into a roll, and lays it along the bottom of thedoor.
My eyes widen as she lights thejoint.
“I’ve heard stories of students getting expelled for less. It would be awesome if you could do thatoutside.”
Rae heaves out a sigh. “Whatever.” She grabs her keys off her desk and brushes pastme.
Shit. I’m not here to make friends, but I don’t want to commit social suicide on day one either. From the look Rae tosses me as she heads down the hall, my new roomie might as soon push me in front of a subway as ride it withme.
“Nice meeting you!” I call as I grab my things, then lockup.
With the help of the map on my phone, I find my way on the subway over to the Columbia campus for my firstclass.
The excitement that’s been missing since running into Tyler this morning slowly returns, giving my step extrabounce.
“I haven’t seen you since the weekend!” Pen wraps me in her arms when we spot one another outside our lecture hall, and I hug her back. “It sucked we came in on the same flight only to go different directions at the airport,” sheaccuses.
“Gah, I know. I’msorry.”
“Whatever. Gotta pursue your dreams, right? Anyway, glad you made it early so we can grab coffee. There’s a café in the same building as ourlecture.”
We head into the building, and she steers me toward a line of students in front of acounter.
Pen and I scored the same sociology section. I have that, plus English, at Columbia on Tuesday and Thursday. Their campus is only a quick subway ride away, and Vanier has some deal with them so Vanier can focus on arts education while still producing well-roundedgrads.
“My clothes don’t fit in my room,” she goes on. “I might have gone overboard now that we don’t haveuniforms.”
“At least you have a single,” I tell her as we order Americanos. “My roommate showed this morning, and I managed to piss her off by telling her to smoke her jointoutside.”
Pen waves me off. “Etiquette 101. Thou shalt not smoke up in thine dorm room without roommate consent. Or before eleven in the morning because it’stacky.”
I sigh. “I missedyou.”
“Have you talked to your dad and Haley?” she asks as we grab our coffees and head and toward the lecturehall.
