Apparently, that’s the end of her spiel, because she paces several feet away and starts over again. “First years, please check in…”
As we walk through the tie-dyed apple to the courtyard in front of Aphrodite Hall, we try to do what she says. I take a second to look over the tables, trying to decide where we’re supposed to start. Room assignments? Meal cards? Schedules? Muse allocation?
“Come on. Let’s go get our room!” Fifi says, deciding for us. “The quicker we get in line, the more likely we are to be roommates!”
It feels good to know she wants to be my roommate. This summer, I spent more time than I want to admit worrying about no one wanting to room with me. Paris kept telling me to chill out, that everything would be fine. But I’m not very good at chilling at the best of times, let alone when I’m about to start a whole new everything.
Looks like he was right, though. Not that I have any intention of telling him that. Paris has a tendency to let those three little words—you were right—go straight to his head.
“What about Arjun?” I ask as the three of us head for thealready crowded room assignment table. I hate that he’s on his own just because he spent the whole walk with us.
But he just grins. “My cousin, Omari, is starting this year too. He said he’d request me for a roommate.”
I nod, happy to hear Arjun knows someone he can room with.
Five minutes later, Dr. Dione herself hands Fifi and me matching key cards for room seven-twenty-three before doing the same for Arjun and a boy I assume must be his cousin Omari, who are, conveniently, in room seven-twenty-six. Omari’s a little taller than Arjun and his hair is a little longer, but he’s got the same gentle smile. I feel comfortable with him right away.
“Those rooms are on the top floor,” she reminds us as she writes our names down with a rose-shaped pen that glistens with red and pink crystals. “After you get your schedules, meals, and muses, proceed through the front doors to the bank of elevators. From there, one of our upperclassers will help you find your room.”
As we move to the next table, I wonder what it’s going to be like to be roommates with Fifi. She won’t even call me by my real name because it’s too serious. What’s going to happen when she figures out I’m more serious than my name? As nice as she seems, I realize this just isn’t going to work. I’m not going to fit in at Aphrodite no matter how much she wants me to.
Just then, the upperclasser in charge of the table calls, “Next!” and Fifi pulls me to the front of the station with her.
The girl behind the table gives us an amused look as sheruns a hand through her bright blue hair. “I said next, not the next two.”
“We’re kind of a package deal,” Fifi tells her, wrapping an arm around my shoulders in solidarity. “Fifi and Ellie, room seven-twenty-three.”
“My name is Penelope,” I tell the upperclasser, just in case there’s another girl here who actuallyisnamed Ellie. I’m already in the wrong hall. The last thing I want is the wrong muse allocation too.
“Hey, Ellie!” The girl glosses over my explanation as she grabs a stack of bright pink envelopes from the table. I notice the envelopes are all blank, with no names written on them. “I’m Darcy. Here’s an envelope for you—”
She starts to hand the top envelope to me, but the moment I try to take it, a giant gust of wind blows through and knocks the whole stack right out of her hand. “What the heck?”
Fifi and I make a grab for them, but the wind whips them out of our grasps too, before finally dying down enough to scatter them under the table.
“Ye gods!” Darcy exclaims, dropping down to her knees to pick the envelopes up. “I’m so sorry about this. I don’t know what’s going on with this wind today.” She grabs the last of the fallen envelopes and stands up. She starts to pull one from the pile to give to me, but the wind isn’t having it. It knocks all of them away from us except for one—the very last envelope in the stack.
That one it deposits directly into my hands.
18.You Snooze, You Muse
FOR SEVERAL LONG SECONDS, WEboth just stop and stare suspiciously at the bright pink envelope currently clutched between my fingers. It’s strange the way the wind seemed to blow the envelope right into my hands—almost like it was supposed to be mine all along. But after the morning I’ve had, I’m not going to question it. At least I have an envelope!
“Huh.” Darcy looks a little confused, but she quickly gets back to business now that the drama is over. “Looks like that one’s yours then.”
“Looks like,” I agree with a rueful smile.
“My turn,” Fifi says. “Which one is mine?”
Darcy gathers the remaining envelopes into a messy pile in front of her on the table.
“Just pick one,” she says.
“But how do we know if it’s the right one?” Fifi asks.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not like the coins—muse allocation is totally random.”
“Random, you say?” Fifi stares at the envelope in my hand like she doesn’t believe the random thing any more than I do.
