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From a young age Kris decided she would be one of the lucky few who left to never return. She would find her dreams even if that meant facing the scary reality of New York City.
“You can do this,” she whispered to herself and took a long, deep breath filling her lungs with the heavy air of a real city. She pulled the strap of her backpack higher on her shoulder and, with a confident stride, climbed the steps of the NYU dorm building she was about to call home.
Inside were tables set up with lists, folders and strange keys. Annoyed looking staff sat behind them, trying to do their jobs, as a sea of people ran around and shouted names. Kris took her place in line and watched with petrified fascination the chaos around her. After a few moments, a plump woman behind one of the tables raised her hand and called, “Next.”
Kris tucked a piece of her long auburn hair behind her ear and held tightly to her bag as she walked toward the table. Next to her a boy tripped on his own shoelaces and fell to the floor, dropping his keys and orientation papers to the floor. Kris tried to walk around him and not step in his stuff as she approached the table.
“Hello. Welcome to NYU,” the woman greeted with a smile. “May I see your id, please?”
Kris only noticed her hands were shaking when she placed her id on the table. The upperclassman handing out keys, a young woman just a few years older than Kris gave her a sympathetic smile reached out to touch her wrist.
“I know how you feel. Everything seems scary and messy right now, but it gets better. I promise. You just hang in there, girl.”
Kris smiled back at the woman. “Thanks. I’ll try.”
The woman pulled her hand back and fumbled with some papers until she found the things belonging to Kris. She handed the orientation papers and the directions to Kris’s room, and wished her good luck with everything.
As Kris made her way through the crowded hallway and into the packed elevator, she felt a bit more relaxed and reassured. When the doors opened on the fourth floor she wiggled her way out of the crammed steel cage and stepped out into the hall, dodging a red haired girl who ran towards her yelling for someone to hold the door.
Hers was the first door to the right. She stood in front of it for a second and smiled. An amazing mix of happiness and anxiety flowed through her as she brought the key to the lock. Kris turned her wrist, but when the key wouldn’t turn the happiness seeped out of her, leaving only an unreal amount of anxiety. Kris licked her lips and took a deep, focusing breath. She pulled the key out and tried again. Still no luck.
She pulled the key out and inspected both, key and lock. They were unlike any key and lock she’d ever seen before, but that was no reason why they shouldn’t work properly. She tossed the frustrating key to the floor and fumbled through her papers, checking everything from the room number to any possible instructions on how to work the key. Much to her annoyance, she found nothing to help her.
A groan bubbled up from her throat as her forehead hit the door. She closed her eyes to avoid the tears that were threatening to form to spill out. From her left, someone cleared their throat.
She jumped and turned, wide-eyed. The person standing behind her was a tall girl who seemed to be about her age. Her hair and eyebrows were dyed bright purple, as was her hair. She had pierced eyebrows and bright blue eyes. The combination offset her pale skin beautifully. A wide smile broke across the girl’s lips and Kris had to remind herself how to breathe. In, out. Inhale, exhale.
“Never used a keyfob before?” The girl asked while staring at the discarded key by Kris’ feet.
Kris’ brows pulled together at the strange word. “A what?”
“Keyfob. It’s an electronic key.”
“An electronic key?”
“Yeah. You line the lights on the key up with the lights on the door.” “That’s what unlocks it.” The girl bent over, picked up the key and placed it upside down in the lock. There was a clicking noise from the deadbolt and the purple haired girl pushed the door open. “See? Easy as pie.”
“Yeah,” Kris replied, but the word came out as a high pitched squeak that was almost painful.
One pierced, purple brow rose at the sound and Kris could bet that the other girl’s lips quivered. She wanted to close her eyes and escape somewhere far, far away, but she didn’t, instead she offered a relieved smile. “Thanks. Where I come from keys are just keys, not Christmas ornaments.”
The other girl chuckled and walked into the room without waiting for an invitation. Kris followed her in and watched as she stood surveying the room. The girl brought her gaze around to Kris’ face. She smiled and said, “I figured as much. You looked a little lost, cutie pie.”
Kris couldn’t tell if the girl was being condescending or playful. The only other person to ever call her cutie pie was her grandfather, so she decided to give the girl the benefit of the doubt. God, the last thing she needed was to get into an argument with some strange girl her first day at school.
“I do feel a little lost,” Kris said. “But I’m pretty sure that this is my room.”
The purple, pierced brow arched again. “Are you Kristen Price?”
“I am. Wait, how do you know my name?”
The girl pulled out a sheet from her orientation packet and showed it to Kris. “Isadora Ryman,” Kris read the name written between her dorm room number and her own name.
“You’re my…”
“Yep. Nice to meet you, roommate.” Isadora’s blue eyes beamed as her lips parted in yet another face splitting smile. “Call me Izzy.”
Kris held out her hand to shake just like her father had taught her to do, but to her surprise, Izzy wrapped her arms around her neck and pulled her in for a hug.
