Something About You

SHAY

I hurried down the third-floor hallway, pulling a large plastic storage bin behind me while balancing a cardboard box in my arm. I could’ve left the box outside the dorm where my Uber dropped me off. But, where I came from, you didn’t leave your things unattended or someone would’ve claimed them as their own.

“Ummmph,” I cried as the box in my hand flew up in the air and unceremoniously crashed to the floor sending my belongings scattering all over.

“Watch it,” the girl I’d collided with said as she continued down the hall without even stopping to help me retrieve my things.

I glared at her retreating form, making a mental note of the swaying hips, too short cutoffs, and perfectly curled blonde hair cascading down to her butt. I needed to know who I should avoid at all costs at Cranmore University.

As if reading my thoughts, she glanced over her shoulder for a split second. Of course, she had to be beautiful. Why did the mean ones always get good genes? “Loser,” she mumbled as she disappeared into a room on the right.

I shoved my glasses up my nose, only to have them slip back down as I dropped to my knees in the middle of the hallway. I glanced around me, but despite all the open doors lining the hallway and the music drifting through them, the hallway was empty. I grabbed the framed photo of me and my mom that had landed in front of me, careful not to look at it for too long. Today was supposed to be a good day. A new start. No need to let in the sad memories. I stuffed it into the box then scooped up my trophies for academic decathlon that lay on opposite sides of me. I quickly shoved them into the box, embarrassed two trophies brought me such pride.

“Excuse me.”

I glanced up to find a pretty brunette with her parents trying to get by me with boxes in their arms.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I pushed my things to the side so they could pass by.

“Need some help?” the father asked with pity in his eyes.

I lowered my head and mumbled, “I’ve got it.”

They didn’t force their assistance on me and moved to the girl’s room as I stuffed a few of my notebooks, the refurbished laptop I saved enough money to buy (praying it hadn’t been destroyed), and some small trinkets into the box.

I pushed myself to my feet with the box in my arm and searched the room numbers, spotting room 333 ahead on the right. I grabbed hold of my bin and moved to it. I halted in the doorway. The family who’d just passed me hurried around the room unpacking and decorating.

“Hey,” the dad said with a smile when he noticed me standing there. “We know you.”

I forced a smile before glancing to the brunette who I now realized was my roommate Kendall. Her social media account didn’t do her justice. She looked like she could be a model. Maybe she was. Given her wide eyes taking in my long brown braids and five-foot-two, ninety pounds stature, she was just as surprised by my meek appearance. We’d spoken via DM, but it didn’t take long to realize we were exact opposites. She’d be pledging a sorority, and I’d hopefully be volunteering for the science department in a lab until all hours of the night. “Hi, Kendall.”

Her eyes softened. “Shay?”

I nodded, trying my best to give off the impression that I was like all the other college freshmen super stoked to be living the college life. Don’t get me wrong. I was happy to be on my own and starting over. But not the way others were. They saw no supervision, late nights without questions, and parties. I saw freedom from daily stress and the unknown.

“What happened out there?” Kendall’s mom asked. “Did your box give way?”

“That’s what I get for using cardboard,” I lied.

She eyed my box and container. “Would you like help bringing up the rest of your things?”

I blushed. “This is all I have.”

“Oh,” she said, suddenly looking as uncomfortable as I felt.

“I’m low maintenance. I need very little to survive,” I continued, hoping I hadn’t insulted my new roommate who seemed to have triple the things I had.

Kendall’s dad smiled. “I tell Kendall all the time that less is more.”

Kendall rolled her eyes at her dad and then looked to me. “I’m relieved you’re a minimalist. Where would all my stuff go otherwise?” She smiled, and I realized that maybe having a roommate who was my opposite would work out better than having a roommate who was as neurotic about school and succeeding as I was.

“Kendall said you’re from Colorado,” her mother said as she unpacked Kendall’s bed linens.

“About thirty minutes from here.”

“Wanted to stay close to home?” her dad asked.

Nope. “I actually received a full scholarship, so it was a no-brainer.”

“Full scholarship?” Kendall asked. “I didn’t know that. What’s your major?”

“Biochemistry.”

Her eyes widened. “So, you can help me with my science classes?”

“Absolutely.”

“I sense the beginning of a great friendship,” her father said.

I expected sarcasm when I looked to Kendall. But, instead, she just smiled. “Me too.”

Relief swept over me telling me—despite the rude girl interaction—that this was going to be a great first year of college after all.

***

Bass of a rap song next door rattled our wall. I’d covered my ears with headphones hours ago. I’d tried to sleep with a pillow over my head. But nothing drowned out the sound—or the vibration of the wall against my bed. I grabbed my phone from the desk beside me. Two in the freaking morning. Now, I wasn’t opposed to other people having fun. I got it. This was college. This was the first time most of these kids had been on their own. But classes started in a few hours. And since I had all seven o’clock classes, I wasn’t going to be able to function if this kept up. Maybe they didn’t even realize how loud it was. I glanced to Kendall’s bed. She was sound asleep. The girl clearly slept like a rock.

The song ended and laughter drifted through the wall. I breathed a sigh of relief knowing I could handle laughter. But all too soon the familiar sound of bass returned.

That’s it!

I kicked my feet out from beneath my worn comforter and trudged into the hallway until I stood outside the room next door. I wasn’t trying to be a buzzkill, but it was late and I needed to sleep. I banged on the door with the side of my fist so they could hear me over the music. I waited. The music sounded even louder in the hallway. Hadn’t anyone else complained?

The door flew open and the blonde who I’d collided with earlier stood there in only a T-shirt glaring at me. “What?” she snapped.

“I was hoping you could turn down your music. I’ve got a seven o’clock class, and I really need to sleep.”

“No.”

My head whipped back. “No?”

“No,” she repeated before her eyes drifted over my pajamas. “Are those footie pajamas?”

I glanced down at my pajama choice. “Yes.”

She burst out laughing. “Oh. My. God.”

“What?” the guy in her room asked as he pulled her door open the rest of the way. “Oh.”

Whoa. His ruffled dark hair, very bare chest, sleeve of tattoos, and boxers set me off balance for a second. I’d never been that close to a nearly naked guy—not to mention one that good looking—before.

His blue eyes took in my red footie pajamas. “That’s something you don’t see every day.”

“I just need you to turn down the music,” I said to him, hoping to appeal to his sense of reason.

“This is college, Little One,” he said.

I gasped. “Little One?”

He chuckled as his eyes once again drifted over my pajamas. “If the shoe fits.”

“If the shoe fits,” I gritted out, “I’d be calling the two of you inconsiderate assholes. But, I didn’t do that, did I? I asked nicely.”

“Did she just call us assholes?” the mean girl asked.

“That she did,” he said to her before his eyes met mine. “Beat it, geek. You interrupted us, and if there’s one thing I find inconsiderate, it’s being interrupted.” And without the slightest show of remorse, he slammed the door in my face.

I stood in the empty hallway stewing. My cheeks pulsed with heat. How had I for even one second paid him the slightest bit of attention? There was nothing worse than people who thought they could do whatever they wanted.

But, they had.

And, the music continued to pound off my wall until I left for class the next morning at six-thirty showing me they had no plans to back down.

Great.