I roll my suitcase into one of the barren bedrooms and then plunk down on the rock-hard, hideous orange sofa in the lounge. Simon takes a swivel chair from my room and slides it in front of me, where he then plants himself. “Why are you so worried?”
I cross my arms and look around the concrete room. “I’m notworriedat all. She’s probably very nice. I’m sure we’ll become soul mates, and she’ll braid my hair, and we’ll have pillow fights while scantily clad and fall into a deep lesbian love affair.” I squint my eyes at a cobweb and assume there are spider eggs preparing to hatch and invade the room.
“Allison?” Simon waits until I look at him. “You can’t do that. You can’t become a lesbian.”
“Why not?”
“Because then everyone will say that your adoptive gay father magically made you gay, and it’ll be a big thing, and we’ll have to hear about nature versus nurture, and it’ll be soooooo boring.”
“You have a point.” I wait for spider eggs to fall from the sky. “Then I’ll go with assuming she’s just a really sweet, normal person with whom I do not want to engage in sexual relations.”
“Better,” he concedes. “I’m sure she’ll be nice. This kind of strong liberal arts college attracts quality students. There’re good people here.” He’s trying to reassure me, but it’s not working.
“Totally,” I say. My fingers run across the nubby burned-orange fabric covering the couch, which is clearly composed of rock slabs. “Simon?”
“Yes, Allison?”
I sigh and take a few breaths while I play with the hideous couch threads. “She probably has horns.”
He shrugged. “I think that’s unlikely.” Simon pauses. “Although...”
“Although what?” I ask with horror.
There’s a long silence that makes me nervous. Finally, he says very slowly, “Shemighthaveonehorn.”
I jerk my head and stare at him.
Simon claps his hands together and tries to coax a smile out of me. “Like a unicorn! Ohmigod! Your roommate might be a unicorn!”
“Or a rhinoceros,” I point out. “A beastly, murderous rhino.”
“There is that,” he concedes.
I sigh. “In good news, if I ever need a back scratcher, I have this entire couch.” I slump back against the rough fabric and hold out my hands before he can protest. “I know. I’m a beacon of positivity.”
“That’s not news to me.” Simon’s blue eyes meet mine. His skin is tan and weathered from a summer spent sailing off the coast of Massachusetts, his brown hair lightened in places where the gray has not taken over. I should have joined him on these excursions more than the few times I did. Next summer, maybe next summer ...
“I think a back scratcher is a great luxury provided to you by Andrews College,” he says. “Enjoy.”
As I look around the concrete room, I make a resolution: I am going to give this unknown roommate a chance. I will push myself to be open and friendly. We might be very compatible. There’s no need for this collegiate relationship to become a be-all, end-all friendship, because I already have that with my one true friend, Steffi, and my heart has no room for more than one. But a good, working relationship with a roommate? That could actually be enjoyable.
Well,enjoyablemight be pushing it. I’d shoot fortolerable.
There is a loud knock on the door, and it swings open as a tall boy with a scraggly beard and rows of beads dangling around his neck pokes his head into the room. “Yo, are you Allison?”
I nod.
He beams. “Hey! Great to meet you! I’m Brian, your RA. Listen, my friend, welcome. We’re so happy you’re in Kirk Hall. Gonna be a rockin’ year.” He makes a little fist pump in the air, and I try not to recoil. “So, dude, one thing? Your roommate? Small hitch with her.”
“What do you mean byhitch?” I ask.
“Yeesh, she sorta isn’t going to be coming to school this year. Something about an Antarctic trip and a sea leopard.” His face contorts. “Sounds unappealing to me, but she’s gonna be holed up in a lab studying this creature for a few months before she takes off to see ’em in person.”
Simon wrinkles his face. “Sea leopards?”
“Dude, yeah.” The boy with the necklaces pinches the bridge of his nose. “I bet they smell. Guess you’ll be flying solo this year, little bird.” Suddenly he brightens. “But hey! We’ve got a killer welcome-back party here in this very dorm tonight! Third-floor lounge! See you there!” He points a finger at me and then vanishes, letting the door slam behind him.
While Simon looks stricken that I will not have a roommate, my spirits are undeniably lifted.I’m a little bird who is going to be flying solo this year!“Let’s go get some baklava,” I say with too much enthusiasm.
