ARIELLE

Chapter3

After making a few wrong turns and asking for directions twice, I finally found East Hall. The students I asked were kind enough not to laugh at my bad sense of direction. East Hall was a four-story brick building that looked like something built in the 1970s, which gave it a charm similar to that of a hospital. The building was busy with students moving in, some with their parents' help, while the RA tried to manage the check-in process with a clipboard and increasing frustration. Cardboard boxes were everywhere, telling the story of each student's personal choices.

After getting the rest of my things, I stood outside for a moment, mentally preparing myself.

Then I took a deep breath and walked in.

The check-in process was surprisingly efficient. I found the check-in table, provided my name, and got a folder with my key, floor assignment, and a welcome letter. My room was Room 307, located on the third floor. The RA, a senior named Luke, explained the building's basics in a way that suggested he'd done the same thing many times already.

"Quiet hours are from 12 am to 5 am," he said, highlighting important points on a document. "Guests of the opposite s*x are allowed, but there are guidelines to control such visits. Fire drills are mandatory. And please don't block the doors with furniture, that didn't end well for someone last year."

I nodded my thanks, took the papers, and headed up the stairs. The third floor had a strong smell of fresh paint and cleaning supplies. My room, 307, was halfway down the hall, and the door was already open a bit, which meant my roommate had beaten me to it. This made me a little anxious, since I'd never shared a room with anyone except my mom.

My internal voice tried to reassure me: "You can do this."

I pushed the door open.

The room was small, but not too small to look cramped—two twin beds, two desks, two tiny closets that couldn't fit a full winter wardrobe even if you tried. Someone had already set up their side of the room with a coordinated look: soft lighting, a cream and gray throw blanket, and a plant that looked alive. Pure evidence that people had the gift to make spaces feel like home. People whose name obviously wasn’t Arielle.

No offence, by the way, to every other Arielle out there.

And on the bed, sprawled with the casual confidence of someone who belonged exactly where they were, was a girl with curly red hair and a beautiful smile which didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"Oh my god, you're here!" she said, sitting up immediately. "I was already getting worried that I was going to be alone. Last year, my friend had a roommate who transferred in the middle of the semester, and it was so depressing for her. I'm Star, by the way, from California. Where are you from?"

Where are you from, not what is your name? Interesting.

The assault of her personality was overwhelming in the best possible way. She seemed like someone who could generate her own energy, as though plugged into an invisible outlet.

"Arielle," I said, giving her my name anyway, while I stood in the doorway, unsure if I should come in. "About five hours east of here. Nowhere interesting."

"All places are interesting if you know the right people," Star said, gesturing to the room. "I didn't know what your vibe was, so I took the side that had more light. But if you would like to switch, we can definitely do that. I'm very flexible about spatial arrangements."

I looked at my side of the room. The wall caught the afternoon light, yes, though not as much as hers. I also got the better view. My window faced a courtyard, so I’d be able to see the rest of campus. Perfect observation material.

"This is perfect," I said, meaning every word.

I methodically unpacked my things, assigning them to their respective places. I put the duffel bag into the tiny closet. The books got organized on the desk, not alphabetically like my mother would have done, but in a way that made sense to me. The plastic bin became my under-bed storage while the cardboard box got broken down.

By the time I was finished, the room looked like someone was living there. My corner was still pretty bare since I didn't have many personal decorations like photos, posters, or string lights, but it looked a bit more occupied.

"I'm going to grab dinner from the dining hall," Star said the moment I was done. "You want to come? I can’t promise the food isn't terrible, but at least it’s better than eating nothing." She had been quietly observing me as I unpacked, not saying anything. We just sat in comfortable silence.

I appreciated that more than anything.

“Sorry, but I’d pass,” I heard myself say. I got some snacks on my way here, so that should do for the night. I'll eat real food tomorrow. Star, not discouraged by my reply, waved goodbye before stepping out of the room.

I moved to the window and looked out at the courtyard below. Students continued moving between buildings as the day transitioned into night. The campus was settling into its evening routine, with lights coming on in windows and creating cozy spots against the darkening sky.

Star got back later and filled me in on the conversations she had in the dining room and the new people she met. My day had been super hectic, and it was taking a toll on me, so I decided to have an early night.

After we said our goodnights and turned off the lights, I lay on the unfamiliar bed and stared at the ceiling, which was covered in acoustic tiles that seemed to hold the memories of a thousand late-night conversations. The sounds of the dorm surrounded me — distant laughter, music from a speaker somewhere, and the quiet hum of a building full of people trying to become something new.