Screw Fate

Chapter 1

Oh, hey, you're still here!

Why are you still here? You shouldn't be.

Go away.

Scram.

Leave.

Skedaddle.

Get.

Out!

Ya know what, I don't honestly even care anymore.

WWWWAAAARRRRNNNN!!!!

There, you've been warned. Any sanity loss or marbles going missing is no fault of mine.

Let's continue, shall we?

Well, as you've guessed by now---or at least I hope you guessed---fate and I don't quite have a perfect relationship. And that's not the only supernatural force toying with me. No! Of course not! Good luck? What's that? Never heard of it. Take recent events for example.

Turns out power outages make it kind of hard to register for school online. I know, crazy, right? Well, believe it or not, they do.

Especially the oh-so-wonderful type that lasts a week! Specifically, the week allotted for telling the college, "Yep, I'm here, I'm coming, and you better not leave me out." And it's all because of a goddamn squirrel chewing on the power lines. What brilliant wildlife we have here.

So that's the story of how I ended up sitting here, waiting for some PTA fanatic to assign me one of the leftover dorms alongside someone else with enough misfortune to have had to deal with the squirrel.

And to cap it all off, I'm going to start off all of my classes with a reputation for being late or lazy or something, when I'm actually a straight A's student. I haven't had a B average in my life. I graduated with a 4.0 GPA.

Not like I'm bragging or anything. Just stating facts.

"Alexandra Rainwell?" A deep voice cuts through my self-pity.

"Allie," I mutter under my breath as I step into the dean's office.

"Please, sit," the balding old man I assume is the dean offers, gesturing towards a chair that looks like it could crumble if a ladybug sat on it too harshly. I take a hesitant step towards the chair and sit lightly, making sure my weight is actually balanced on my feet. Goodness knows I'd crush it with my luck lately. Not that I'm heavy. I'm actually pretty light. I've been teased for looking more like a freshman than someone going into college.

"I'm Dean Gordan." The man reaches to shake my hand. I oblige.

"Allie Rainwell." Why did I say that? He's the dean, of course he knows my name! Heck, didn't he call me in here all of thirty seconds ago?

"You go by Allie?" He asks. Is that judgement I detect in your tone, sir?

"Yes, sir. I have since I was little. It's what my dad always called me."

I smile at the memory. I was always Dad's little Allie-bug. That was, until he took up the job with the military. Dad was tall and strong, and he knew how to use a gun, so they put him in the front lines. You can probably guess what happened.

"And you're here with a scholarship?"

"Yes, sir." What is this, my interview again? Was I not judged enough the first time?

He nods and hands me a small piece of paper and a key. "This is your key, and this is your schedule. Your dorm number and class locations are on here too. Try not to be late again."

I press my lips together at that last jab. This fucking jerk! "Thank you, sir," I mutter coyly, resolving to be ten minutes early to my first class.

I stand up to leave, and speed walk outside to take a breath of fresh air. Now, where's my dorm? I glance at the paper. 367. Third floor. I lug my suitcases up the stairs, seeing as the elevator is out of order. Of course.

I stand outside the door and look at my card again. Shit. It doesn't have another name on it. Maybe I won't have a roommate? Psh, nope. Not that lucky, remember?

I knock on the door, and a girl a little taller than me with bright blond hair and a smile so big I'm afraid her face might fall off answers.

"Hi! I'm Lizzie!"

"Uh, hey. I'm Allie."

"Nice to meet you!" She takes my hand and shakes it. Oh god, she's friendly. Someone save me, please.

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