don't wanna hang around the in crowd

"Amy, come on! Let's go!"

I look up from my book—L. Frank Baum's The Wizard of Oz, of all things—to lock eyes with the angry, heavily made-up ones of my roommate. "I'm not going," I tell her simply.

Madison grunts in frustration and snatches the book from my hands at such a speed that I don't even have the time to be surprised. "Listen, Amy," she snarls. "This is like the introductory party of the year. We need to go out there and make ourselves known to this community. Otherwise, our college years are really gonna suck."

"Look, I said I'm not going," I snap.

"Okay, what is your deal? Are you, like, afraid of parties or something?"

Truthfully, yes, I want to tell her. I'm not really afraid, per se, I just hate the incessant noise and drunkenness that's always sure to be around me. Already I can hear the muffled bass of music being blasted from a few rooms down. Despite this, I just tell her exasperatedly, "I'm not in the mood tonight."

Madison seems to be trying a different tactic, because she crosses her arms and sets her pretty mouth into a pout. "Please?" she whines. "As...insufferable as you've been for the past few days, I don't want to go out there alone."

Knowing she won't stop until I say yes, I sigh and heave myself off the bed. "Can I have my book back, at least?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Madison tosses the book in my direction—I barely manage to catch it in time—before throwing open the door and sauntering out of the room.

The music doubles in volume as the only barrier between us disappears. I lock our door and survey the crowded hall. We live on a co-ed floor, and already girls are being slammed against walls by guys kissing them feverishly. I try to block out the noise but the bass is insistent, shaking its way through my bones. I think someone managed to smuggle alcohol up here because those familiar plastic red cups are everywhere. I'm not sure how they got away with it, but I know I don't want to be here when they're busted. Silently I wonder where our RA went, and why he isn't doing anything.

Trying to shrink into myself, I follow Madison's bouncy curls down the hall. Someone's strung a banner over their door that reads WELCOME CLASS OF 2020. It's been a week since the official orientation started, so I guess this is the rest of the residence's way of initiating us. I should be excited, but annoyance boils in my stomach as I realise that I'm stuck with these people for the next four years.

I've got to get out of here.

"Madison, I'm going to the washroom. You'll be okay on your own?"

She waves me away with a flick of her wrist, her lips already locked on some guy's. I slowly back away from her and weave my way through the crowds. I can't go back to our room, because I'm pretty sure the only reason why Madison was so eager for me to leave was so she could use it to kiss a guy senseless. (Or more, really. I wouldn't put it past her to hook up with someone after being here for a week.) Judging by what I'd seen, it would only be a matter of time. Unconsciously, my feet start moving faster.

As I turn a corner, I see a door I somehow hadn't noticed in the past week. It's labelled Roof Access, and just below it, a piece of laminated paper that reads open 24 hours every day – anyone welcome! Breathing a sigh of relief, I push open the door and mount the stairs.

The cool, fall breeze is a welcome change from the suffocating body heat just one floor below. It's hard to ignore the vibrations of the roof beneath my feet or the muffled pounding of the bass, but it's far less overwhelming than being downstairs. From here, I have a bird's-eye view of the city, the lights twinkling across the sea of darkness. The silence envelops me as I survey the roof; it's being used as a garden, with rows of planters stretching from end to end. On the far end, I notice the outline of a gazebo and make my way over. The moon is covered behind clouds, but its light is still strong enough to show me the silhouette of a boy sitting on one of the benches as I approach.