4 Miles to Paradise

Chapter 12: Rose's Mission - Find The Smurfette

Dedicated to breezyjk2001

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Chapter 12: Rose's Mission - Find The Smurfette

"I'm sorry Miss, but I absolutely cannot give out a student's dorm. That is a complete invasion of privacy! If your so-called friend wanted to see you, she would have told you where to find her, herself!"

Ugh, Rose groans. All this energy of their dispute is giving her a headache.

Rose has been attempting to pry information out of the secretary in the building for dorms seated behind a desk, twirling her phony blond hair around a pen and biting her fingernails in some sort of bad habit. She has been asking which one is Skye's dorm for 45 straight minutes now, as Rose is consistently a stubborn person. Rose even tried bribing her with cash, but the lady spurned to give her an honest answer.

"Okay, look. It's particularly essential for me to talk to her." Rose's words are peremptory, but from the look of annoyance she is receiving, she is entirely out of luck.

So much for praying in the car on the way here; not that I am even religious.

At least she tried. Although, as it didn't do anything to help, she doubts she'll bother with prayers next time she needs something.

Feeling tremendously exasperated, Rose stalks away from the lady and slams the door on her way out.

Now how is Rose supposed to find out where Skye's dorm is? The campus is huge, so it's not as if she could go room to room. That would take way over a day, and she's not that desperate, yet.

Being the failure that Rose is, she ends up sprawled out at a courtyard table, hoping to magically find the smurf by stalking her campus.

Did I say stalk?

She meant, find.

I mean, how difficult could it be to locate a pastel-like, azure haired, girl at a school like NYU?

"Is this seat taken?" A sweet voice pondered.

Rose looks up to see a short girl with sun-kissed smooth skin, soft chocolate brown eyes, dark thick eyebrows, and dark brown hair pulled up into a ballerina bun.

"No, it's all yours," Rose expressed with a wave of her hand towards the vacant black, metal chair.

"Thanks. My roommate has been writing songs all day long on her guitar. She's remarkably talented, and her voice is great as well, but I cannot get any work done in there. I have nowhere else quiet to go to!" She explains to Rose in a lilted tone, her pitch raising and lowering like a melody, even though Rose did not ask her for an explanation.

Then it hits her.

"Guitar, you say?"

"Indeed." Her head bobs up and down once in a fast nod, which bounces her bun slightly. "I know nothing about making that kind of music, but even I can tell she is fantastic."

"You roommate isn't Skye Mari Ryder, is it?" Rose queried.

What is the chance of me meeting Skye's roommate?

The look of both shock and confusion on her face gives Rose her answer before her lips even part.

"I'm one of her friends. I need to know what room she's in," Rose insists.

The girl doesn't seem convinced. "If you really were friends, wouldn't she just text you her address?"

"I got a new phone," the little white lie slips from her lips effortlessly, "I don't have her number anymore. Please, just tell me the dorm. It's urgent!"