Part 1: Meeting
I grunted as I stumbled out of the elevator. My suitcase dragged along by my pinky as I tried to balance four oversized boxes in my arms. So far, so good. The dorms reminded me of my aunt's old apartment building, just more cramped. And it smelled…not bad exactly, but definitely lived in. I minced my way through the floor lobby, looping my way through the furniture, and into the hall where my room awaited. I groaned when I saw it was the last one on the left. Fifty more feet. I made my ungainly way to the door, then set my things down in a huff. I fumbled with my jacket, momentarily forgetting where I'd put the key. Finally, wrested from my back jeans pocket, I twisted it in the lock only find it already open. I heard a velvety voice from inside:
"Come on in, make yourself at home." British. Cool.
I bit back an annoyed quip. She definitely heard me making all that noise but didn't bother to come and let me in. Lord, I hoped this didn't bode badly.
Sighing, I gathered all my things and dragged them into the room. I had to back in due to the narrow frame and because there was a desk right inside. I banged my hip on it as I went by, which drew an instinctive "fuck". I regretted it the second it came out. I didn't want to seem like an angry grouch my first day at university.
"Have you got everything?" she asked.
"Yeah, thank you," I said. My manners had finally appeared. I turned sheepishly to apologize but I froze.
She was propped up against some pillows, here eye makeup impeccable and lips perfectly glossed. She held a copy of The Alchemist and wore a pair of hipster glasses. And nothing else.
"You must be the roomie I was told about. I must say, thus far you don't exactly match my expectations." She chuckled, a warm throaty sound that sent shivers through all the wrong places.
"Um…yes…this is room 417, right?" I was beginning to wonder what I'd done to deserve this. I had read a comedic book about two years ago that mentioned naked roommates in college, but I always assumed that was more of a Hollywood fabrication than an actual problem.
"Ooh, come now. You know for a fact it is. You spent enough time searching for your key to have checked the number sufficiently." She lilted her voice teasingly, which did nothing for my self-control. Then she stood, no trace of self-consciousness, and extended her right hand. I noticed that she closed the book without a bookmark. Memorized were she was. "My name is Irene Adler. Pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."
I really didn't want to touch this naked girl, but I wasn't going to appear less composed than her in what was now my own home. I looked her square in the face, put on my most courteous smile, and shook her hand. Dad once told me that you shouldn't grip too hard or you looked insecure. But not to shake too soft or you weren't a threat. "The best is when you find your sweet spot. Then you'll command respect anywhere you go."
"Why?" I'd asked. He chuckled.
"Because then you're dangerous. People always respect danger."
It definitely would have been impressive, except that she made a movement that implied I should kiss her hand. I don't care who you are, if you're a girl I challenge you to handle that situation with anything but confusion. It can't be done. When I glanced at her, she smirked. I win, that smile said. I felt a flush creep up my neck. Dammit.
Then she spun and returned to her bed, buried her nose in her book, and ignored me. I recognized it as a dismissal.
As I unpacked my things I swore like a deaf sailor.
