𝐈 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Althea

  My dorm mate was in fact not home when I returned; she did however move her things in during the time I was at the rink. Everything sat in a cluttered pile on her side of the room.

  Was she avoiding me? My stomach twisted and sank at the thought.

  I wanted people to like me, just not to the point where they would ask me a thousand questions about myself. I didn't want her to dislike me without even having met me first. She at least owed me a chance, especially since we would be spending the next nine months in close quarters together. She could decide to hate me after we've had a proper introduction.

  I sat on my bed and took a moment to look over to her side of the room, hoping it would give me a clue as to who she could possibly be and what personality I would be dealing with.
I wondered if she had been someone I had passed in the hall, or skated past in the rink.

  There were fake green vines above her bed and the walls were covered with pictures of plants and various animals; a happy looking golden retriever wearing different accessories was in many of the pictures. Several stuffed animals were tucked in the corner of the bed while the rest of it was covered with clothes.

  There was a sleek black electric guitar standing in one corner of the room and many different literature books sat on the desk. I recognized a few of the authors; Anthony Doerr, Susan Wise Bauer, and several others.

  Maybe she's also a book nerd, like me. I let out a sigh and turned to look at my own side of the room and then back at hers. Everything on her side was chaotic and nothing looked as if it was in its rightful place whereas mine was organized and color coded; it was the exact opposite of hers.

  I ran my hand down the baby pink duvet that covered my bed and repositioned my matching pillows. I had decorated the walls with figure skating paraphernalia along with several photos of me and my friends from back home.

  Friends that I no longer talk to. On my bookcase, I had arranged my books by height and color and placed a few fake plants on the desk. I had tried keeping a baby cactus alive once, and somehow managed to kill it; even though it was one of the few plants in the world that did not need to be watered.

  Everything on my side of the room was picture perfect-nothing chaotic whatsoever. I looked back over at my roommate's pile of clothes and fought back the urge to fold them. Luckily, my phone went off, saving me from crossing a very personal boundary.

  It was Gemma, no doubt calling to make sure I hadn't changed my mind about going to the party. I inhaled deeply, mentally preparing myself, before answering.

"Hi, Gemma."
"Thea! Hi! I just wanted to call-" I held the phone away from my ear, still hearing her voice oddly close; as in she was standing on the other side of my door close. What the hell? I rose from my place on my bed and walked over towards the door.

"Gemma?"
"Yeah?" There was no doubt; she was definitely standing outside my door. I threw open the door and laughed and the look of surprise on her face.

"Hi," she squeaked. "I was going to knock, I swear..."
"It's okay," I laughed and held open the door wider. "Would you like to come in?" Gemma didn't waste a second and quickly brushed past me. She immediately did a look around, stopping to stare at the guitar that stood in the corner of my roommates side of the room.

"Oh, my God, so Jonesy's your roommate." She looked at me as if I was supposed to be excited at those words. After seeing the clear look of confusion on my face, she continued. "Jonesy Claypoole, she's my older sister's best friend and co-captain of one of the women's hockey teams. She's the best, you'll love her."

  I nodded, suddenly remembering Jonesy from the list of names in Gemma's friend group. It seemed there was no escaping The Gang apparently. "She's a little..."
"Chaotic." We said at the same time before laughing. Maybe being Gemma's friend didn't sound so bad. Now that I had a name to go with the clutter, I just needed a face.

***

The music blaring over the speakers a bit too loudly made me wish I hadn't agreed to come to this party. I could've been curled up in my bed with a nice cup of hot tea and binged The Seven Deadly Sins but no, I let myself be brought to this stupid party with loud music and judgy stares.

  I had tried staying close to Gemma since she had insisted on driving, but once she had a few drinks in her, she found the closest male hockey player and snuck off to a dark, quiet corner. I couldn't help but laugh at how cliche that was: hockey players and figure skaters; it was textbook romance. Like football players and cheerleaders or drama students and art majors.

  While the eye candy was nice, I couldn't afford the distractions that came along with dating. I had one goal and it had been the same goal since I was given my very first pair of skates. Get into the Olympics. I had grown up watching skaters like Surya Bonaly, Kristi Yamaguchi, and Oksana Baiul and movies like The Black Swan and every single one of the Cutting Edge movies; and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to be one of them.

  I couldn't quite do that if I was busy going on dates and falling in love. I would have time for love after my dreams were achieved.

  About fifteen minutes into nursing my second cup of hot apple cider and standing in the corner, I was approached by a tall girl with a shaggy haircut and a sweet smile. I took a second to look her over, just for a second, before she could tell I was actively checking her out. She wore a pair of light brown cargo style pants and even though it was a bit cold outside she sported a sleeveless graphic tee. My eyes lingered a bit too long on her toned arms before I realized my second was up and she was in fact asking me a question.

Shit.