The Silicon Valley Connection

1 | faith - so sue me

"Seriously, Faith? Are you still working on that little nerd hobby of yours when you can be living it up in college?" my roommate says in a condescending tone, her fake acrylic nails tapping annoyingly on the wood desk. After my computer crashes for the third time tonight, I sigh exaggeratedly and swivel around in my chair.

    "One, it's not just a hobby; it's my future. Two, contrary to popular belief, I know how to have fun; you just never care to ask," I snap back at her. Thank God my parents left before she came back because she reeks of weed. I angrily lean back into my seat. While attempting to upload my massive Solidworks file to my portfolio, my feet dig into the grey plush rug under my desk, not caring about how red they become from the continuous pressure and friction.

    Uploading files to 'Tech Portfolio'... 50% complete... 77% complete... 89% complete...

Here's the deal. I thought I would be more outgoing and sign up for a random suitemate when I transferred to SSU. Little did I know, I would end up rooming with Ryanne Coleman.

Both of our fathers are top lawyers at West Bay Law & Associates, so they thought it would benefit us to interact with each other. But befriending her is damn near impossible with her constant foul attitude. In my defense, I would consider myself an ambivert, but my wallflower tendencies often outshine my outgoing and personable side.

But through it all, Marcus makes it a bit more bearable.

"Come in! It's unlocked!" Ryanne calls from our suite's bathroom.

My notebook makes a soft plop on my desk, he makes a beeline for my bed, and I scoot over to make room.

"Hey, Faya! Thanks for letting me use your notes for the African American Lit seminar. You're the best."

"That much is obvious, isn't it?" Stretching my legs across Marcus' lap, I resume scrolling down Wayfinder Technologies' "Outreach" page.

There are forty-four other schools--including ours--along the west coast, Midwest, and Southwest that have registered for the annual WTC season. Every year around mid to late September, each school that has signed up by the August 25 deadline is placed in a lottery to have their campus be a potential host for the Western Regional. Four students at each registered school are then chosen at random to represent their college in the competition. The catch: only seven teams make it to Eliminations in Los Angeles, California; the other seven are reserved for the winners of the Eastern Regional.

Forty-four teams. Seven spots. You do the math.

And it's just my luck that this year, Seaside U is hosting the Western Regional, and it's the PHYS 03 students turn to participate.

The bathroom door swings open, and my mouth drops at Ryanne's outfit. White skinny jeans with a bright neon pink fishnet crop top and black Nike Air Force 1 shoes. Of course, she had the makeup to match. Not gonna lie, the pants were cute, but then I remembered that she never liked skinny jeans. Because the bitch was wearing mine.

It's time to switch rooms.

My phone vibrates on my desk, and I leap out of bed to reach for it.

Outlook Mail: Faith, you have mail waiting for you at the Housing Center.

The door slams shut behind me, and I shove my earbuds in as I make my way to pick up my package.

    Arguing with her about personal boundaries again is not worth the energy at this point.

Making the move from Pasadena to San Francisco was surprisingly uneventful. As much as I wanted to stay home and attend Caltech, between my mother's promotion to chief firefighter and my father's new job at Golden Law, I decided to tag along with them.