College started differently than I'd thought it would. I'd expected a nice roommate who'd motivate me to write lit papers and we'd tell each other not to stay up too late. We'd balance each other out and she'd be a good influence on me and I'd teach her the ins and outs of nerd culture. Yeah, that didn't happen.
My roommate was nice but she wasn't exactly the academic type. Betty Spielsdorf was her name and instead of motivating me to work on my lit papers, she was motivating me to attend parties. How there were parties this early in the school year, I didn't know. She stayed up later than me most nights — a mighty feat — and didn't really pay attention when I talked about Doctor Who.
However, I could deal with that. She'd be a good influence on me by introducing me to the world of people other than me and my dad. Unfortunately for me, that meant stepping outside of my comfort bubble. Way out.
"The quad mixer's tonight," she was saying. "You have to come."
My lit paper was due in fifteen hours. I hadn't started it. It required at least two hours of research and it was probably a good idea to sleep at some point.
"I can't, I have to work on this," I said. It was no use.
"If you actually wanted to work on your lit paper, the open document wouldn't be blank and named "my dumb lit paper"," Betty reasoned.
The morning after the party I woke up to the six o'clock alarm I'd set the night before. And the six fifteen one I'd set to keep myself from sleeping in. I yawned and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Thank god I hadn't had any of the punch at the party ― I really didn't want to write my lit paper hungover. I turned on my light and settled down at my laptop.
Four hours later I was seated criss cross applesauce on my chair, a donut in hand, straining my eyesight, still working on my lit paper. It had to be the worst writing I'd ever written. Thank god we didn't have to turn things in online the night before class.
My class started at eleven which I'd thought was a reasonable hour to have class at the time I'd been choosing them. My dad had said I was lucky to get a class that late as a freshman. Silas sure had benefits over other universities when the risk of accidentally walking into a haunted building was higher than the risk of failing out.
I figured I'd wake Betty up right before I left for class, considering she didn't go to class even when she wasn't incredibly hungover. I guess getting a roommate had made me more responsible, if for the wrong reasons. Whatever. Dad would still be proud. I hadn't even eaten cookies as a main meal in a month. Hopefully that alone would be enough to make my dad warm up to the idea of me spending all four years here.
Betty was gone. She'd disappeared. Poof. No trace. There were only pillows left in her spot. My phone rang and I quickly turned it off and threw it onto my bed. I couldn't talk to my dad when my roommate had just disappeared.
I tried to recall what had happened at the mixer. We'd arrived together but Betty had split off from me soon after to get alcohol running through her system. She'd offered to get me a cup too but I'd refused.
I remembered seeing Betty at least a few times throughout the night. Once when she was playing beer pong with my lit ta and another time when she accidentally bumped into me as she was getting another cup of punch. I'd found her around eleven to tell her I was leaving and to come home before four, and that's the last thing I remembered.
I wrote this all down in an old notebook I'd found in the bottom of my suitcase. I needed all the facts and witness reports I could get, even if that included my own.
It turned out my report was the only one with any actual information. Everybody else I talked to either didn't seem to care or thought she'd been with me. Even Perry, the floor don, didn't know, though that was mainly because she'd left before I had. It was time for more investigation; a sweep of our room and the quad was in order.
