Chapter 2

The drive to Atherton Academy was just as boring as the one out here to this little town, called Morrow. Except for the five mile stretch that passed as the town proper, it felt more like heading out to summer camp in some secluded wilderness than a lofty private academy. It's one of the best in the state, and the only nonreligious all-girls one within five hundred miles. Sheesh. I didn't even know we still had boarding schools in America. I thought everyone who went to boarding school went to someplace in Europe?

I could tell we were going higher into the mountains, however, because the greenery got darker and the trees more common. The flat farmland fell away and hills and meadows appeared. It was about forty-five minutes of nervous silence, me sitting shotgun to bubbly, perky Rosemary while the two freshmen sat in the back of an expensive maroon SUV. The license plate had read: 4THRT0N. I assumed it was a school vehicle, but if it was Rosemary's personal ride, I pitied the girl. Who had that much school spirit?

All right, so the campus is pretty amazing. It opened up in front of us abruptly, nestled in a dip in the hills, with giant redwoods and other trees surrounding it on all sides. We had to drive down a long, spirally road and then enter through some gates, but it reminded me of that castle the kids in X-Men live in. It was all stone and mortar, different shades of gray and slate. There was what passed for a pond or a lake off to the far east of a front lawn, and endless woods surrounding on all other sides. It looked like a mansion or a fort, towering at least four stories high with pillars out front and large, glossy windows reflecting the late afternoon sun.

Rosemary pulled directly in front of the stairs which led to the main entrance and parked. She chattered happily about the campus, talking nonstop to the silent freshmen who stared at her with awe and fear. I couldn't take my eyes off the giant building, a little intimidated by its size and mass. It seemed so lonely – but then, there were zero other humans roaming about. Just us four girls. I glanced around, trying to see if there was anybody by the lake.

"Where is everybody?" I asked, the first thing I'd voiced since I met Rosemary. She blinked, startled.

"Most students don't arrive until tomorrow. Today we are welcoming freshmen," she smiled warmly at the two new girls, "and transfers." The look she gave me was, what? Almost apologetic. I grunted in response, shouldering my bags. I wondered if that meant transfers were rare. Probably. Who would want to show up to this gigantic place and try to assimilate with a group of kids who have all known each other since ninth grade?

Well, I'm used to being an outsider. Sort of. At McKinley, I was definitely head bitch in charge – but I didn't really have many friends. Just a lot of admirers, and worshipers, and people who feared me. I like it that way. My only true friend is Brittany, and I don't expect that to change much here at Atherton.

I followed her inside, and was met with cool marble floors and a giant sweeping staircase. It was dim inside, mostly because the skylights weren't helping much due to the overcast day, and it was still too early to turn on artificial lights. A set of glittering doors lined one wall, and then archways led to the left and right.

"This is the administration wing," Rosemary said helpfully. "Upstairs you'll find the dorm rooms, and then to the left and right are the classrooms. Right now, I'm going to help you all find your rooms, and then show you where the auditorium is. Orientation is at eight." She smiled, leading the way up that phenomenal, trailing staircase.

It took forever to find the junior dorms, it seemed. Freshmen were located on the second floor, then sophomores on the third, and seniors and juniors had the top wing. The lower two levels housed additional classrooms, but the highest floor was dedicated only to student housing. I couldn't even begin to take in all the sights that bombarded me – the honeycomb of dorms were interrupted by random game rooms, libraries, study halls. I would never begin to navigate it.

"Here we are," Rosemary said cheerfully, pushing in the glossy mahogany door with the heavy brass doorknob. The dorm room read 414 in shiny yellow numbers. I noticed right away the full sized bed, bare mattress, and fancy looking desk that sat right beside it. My eyes glanced swiftly to the second bed occupying the space, with a matching desk at its foot.

"Wait, what the hell?" I muttered, turning to my guide. Her eyebrows shot up and her peachy skin colored at my expletive. "I have a roommate?"

"Uh, well, yes," she seemed nervous, fidgeting with her notepad. "There are no single rooms available right now. You were a late transfer." Her sentence trailed off and ended in a tiny squeak, because the look I was giving her could have scarred almost anyone.

I just shook my head, disgusted, and barreled into the room, flopping my bags and purse down on the unoccupied bed. I spent another glance at the opposite bed, noticing that it already had sheets and a dark russet comforter, along with a duffle bag and other knick knacks laid out.

"I thought you said everyone else would be here tomorrow?" I couldn't help that my tone was so biting, I was furious! My father had promised me a single room. I've never shared a room in my life, and was not prepared to do it now. But the feeling of helpless rage I'd held in my gut since before I left kept me quiet. I saw no alternative to this situation, and I was reminding myself repeatedly that it's too early to make enemies.

"Hmm.. " Rosemary glanced at the made bed as well, then consulted her notepad. "Oh, it says here you're bunking with another transfer student." She seemed to brighten up at that, like it was good news. I rolled my eyes, and began to dig furiously through my duffle bag for my sheets and blankets.

"Don't forget about orientation at eight," Rosemary said softly, almost a whisper, and I just waved my fingers at her, refusing to even look up from making my bed. She shut the door with a small click.

Once she was gone, I just laid down and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, tight, making small white starbursts explode behind my lids. I was fighting the deep, ragged breaths that preceded a huge break down. I squeezed back the tears that were trying to leak out of my eyes.

Cool it, Santana. You can't cry like this. It's not going to get you any favors in this place. I eased up on the pressure on my eyes, blinking back the blurriness and stinging that the rubbing brought on. My chest was still moving up and down, breaths exploding unevenly, but the tightness in my throat was under control. It was only just now 6:30, I had to get through orientation and meeting this roommate of mine before I could fully break down.

I spent the next half hour arranging my side of the room. I set up my laptop on my desk, and some framed pictures of me and Britt. I thought about putting up posters, but then decided against it – the walls were such a glossy shade of beige, I bet they charged extra on your tuition if you put pushpin holes in them. My bed was raised up, and underneath there were three long drawers, for clothes I guess. At the foot of the bed there were shelves that blocked the bed from direct line of sight to the door. I also noticed there was a place along the ceiling to hang a curtain, to block off the bed from the rest of the room. Good, I'll put that on my list of must-haves.

I began exploring the rest of the dorm room, only eyeing my roommate's space, but not daring to go through her things. I may be a bitch, but I understand boundaries. I would straight cut somebody who rifled through my stuff, and I don't want to give the girl the wrong impression. I did notice that her style was extremely different from mine. Her bed set was a deep rouge color, with light pink sheets. Her desk, instead of being next to her bed like mine was, was at the foot of the bed on the other side of her shelves. She had a closed Apple laptop sitting there as well. No pictures, but the flowery print on her comforter made me think she would probably be just like Rosemary. I sighed inwardly. My comforter was black, my sheets were black. Even my picture frames were black. The only splash of color to my décor was the little plush unicorn Brittany had given me for my birthday, with a rainbow mane and hooves. I brought it with me because it smelled like her.

There were two giant wooden chests in the room as well, which were wardrobes I guessed. I pulled the one closest to my side open, and sure enough – moth balls rolled out, and the overwhelming smell of cedar trickled from it. Yuck. I closed the door. So, what did this other door lead to? I turned the doorknob to find it locked. I frowned, then jiggled the handle.

"Hey, is someone in there?" I rapped on the door, and pressed my ear against it. Sure enough – I could kind of hear breathing or maybe light scuffling.

I stood there, staring at the door, in complete shock. I had no idea there had been somebody in here with me the whole time. I'm glad I hadn't cried or something stupid like that. But what the hell was this creeper up to? It had been almost an hour since Rosemary dropped me off.

I had no idea what to do or say. This was possibly the most awkward situation I've ever been in. I mean, this had to be my roommate, right? Why was she hiding in the bathroom? There's no way she didn't know I was out here. I took a deep breath and then knocked again. "Hey, are you okay?" I was surprised at the level of concern in my voice. I mean – I hadn't even laid eyes on this chick yet. But I was going to spend the next nine months bunking with her, so might as well play nice.

"Uh, yeah," came a muffled voice. "Just hold on a sec."

I scowled at the closed door, shuffling my feet impatiently. I felt my muscles tense into what I commonly thought of as my fight-or-flight response. This always happens whenever I'm in a situation where I have no clue what's going to happen next. It made my face into a hard mask, my teeth gritting behind my lips, my hands curled into loose fists at my sides.

I could hear the water running, some snuffling noises, and then footsteps. The door clicked open quietly and I barely had time to register that the door was open before shock swept my body like an unexpected slushie to the face.

"Whoa! Holy shit, Fabray!" I yelled, my eyes wide and my mouth open. My hands shot out in surprise, and I almost rushed her – though hugging wasn't my thing, especially not with Quinn. But still. I had never in a million years thought she'd be the face on the other side of the door!

"San.. tana?" Her voice was stuffy, like she'd been crying. Her eyes were screwed up in confusion. Her long hair was in a messy pony tail and she was wearing jeans and a white polo shirt. Her face was only a little blotchy, though, so she probably hadn't been crying the whole time. "What are you doing here?"

I laughed. "Seriously? What are you doing here, Blondie?" I smirked. I felt like some of my old rhythm was coming back. I was in an isolated town in the middle of nowhere, miles from my friends and family, but yet a little slice of Lima had followed me all the way out here.

She brushed past me, heading for her bed, eyebrows furrowed like she was trying to collect her thoughts. "I got transferred. My parents thought it might be best." The irony in her voice was thick. I turned to face her. She was sitting on the bed, staring straight ahead.

I sighed. Quinn would not have been my first choice of companion from dear old Lima (that would have been Brittany, of course). Still, she wasn't my last choice either. It could have been worse – what if it had been Rachel Smurfette Berry on the other side of the door? I remembered to glance inside and then nodded to myself, noting it was a bathroom.

I waltzed over to my own bed and sat down, facing her. There was a good ten feet between us. The dorm was pretty roomy. "Mine too. I only got told last night. I think my dad was trying to spring it on me so I couldn't make an escape plan." My lips curved slightly when I said this, though my tone was dry. I searched her face, trying to decipher something, anything she was thinking or feeling. Quinn had always been a mystery to me – she kept her feelings guarded. The opposite of me: my emotions were like a tempest, raging on my face for everyone to see – from happiness to hatred, my features gave it all away. I envied Quinn her ability to shut down her face, make it into a wall that nobody could see through. I only had my words, but they usually did the job of keeping others away.

She refused to make eye contact with me, however. Her tone was flat when she said, "Well, why? I mean, it's obvious why I'm here – teen pregnancy statistic." She swallowed the bitterness that accompanied that statement. "All-girl's school. You know. Wouldn't want a repeat of sophomore year."

My face tightened with empathy, though I would never ever express it. Quinn and I had been friends, once – right after she had moved from Belleville. She had reminded me of Brittany at first, all open innocence and sweetness. It didn't take her long to dissuade me of that opinion. Still, we had each other's backs at McKinley, mostly. We had been the Unholy Trinity early on, as freshmen. Then I realized that back home, without Quinn, Brittany would be very alone. My heart dropped.

Quinn was staring at me before I realized she had asked me a question, and I had to drag my thoughts away from Britt. "Oh, uh." I shook myself mentally. "My dad, he.. he said I needed a better education." I made air quotes around the last two words. "That McKinley wasn't properly grooming the future Doctor Lopez." I rolled my eyes big. I wasn't going to be a doctor, not in a million years.

Her face softened, though she didn't entirely smile. "What are the odds of us rooming together?" She glanced around. "This doesn't seem real."

I smiled at her then, a true smile. "Yeah, I know what you mean. They probably lumped us together because we're the only outsiders in this grade."

She seemed to be relaxing by degrees. "Fine by me. But honestly, Santana," her voice was dry and serious. "I'm not going to be able to deal with you sneaking in boys or whatever. If my parents thought for a second –"

I cut her off. "Hey, shut it, Fabray!" My eyes flashed furiously. "Just what the hell are you implying?" My tone was defensive, angry. I knew what she was implying; but I also knew she didn't have the balls to come right out and say it.

She held her hands up in front of her as a peace offering. "I don't want to fight with you, Santana. We.." she let out a shaky breath, ran her hand through her hair. "We need to stick together. I know we aren't best friends, but we're all we have right now."

I scowled at her, still edgy over the comment she had made. "I can handle myself just fine, Teen Mom. I don't need you."

I shoved myself off my bed, disgusted. I started to roam around the room restlessly. I would have left and slammed the door if I had any freaking idea where to go. But getting lost in this castle of a school was more daunting than staying here with holier-than-thou Quinn Fabray. I picked up a paper weight Britt had given me, a glass with bubbles inside of it, then slammed it down angrily.

I could hear the mattress squeak underneath her as she stood up, but I refused to look at her. All of the craziness of the last couple of days was weighing down on me, and now this – my "reputation" from Lima, still haunting me. Who was she to talk? At least I was smart enough not to get knocked up by Puckerman.

I bristled at the weight of her palm against my shoulder, but I didn't jerk away. I noticed the smell of lavender wafting from her. It reminded me of endless cheer practice, sleep overs, and glee rehearsals. It put me a little at ease, though only grudgingly.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was quiet, and heavy with emotion – maybe tears. I wasn't looking at her so I didn't know if she was about to cry. She took a heavy breath. "Please, Santana. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm just so…" she trailed off, then huffed out a broken laugh. "I'm just so pissed. And scared. I want to go home."

I turned to face her, trying my hardest to swallow the acid that wanted to spew out. I nodded one sharp nod, shifted my arms across my chest, and stepped away from her.

I sat back down and picked up my phone, looking for the time. It was around 7:30, close to time to boogie. I eyed Quinn, who stood there, cupping her elbows, looking down at me with the scariest look. I couldn't name it. Was it sorrow? Too heavy for me.

"It's almost time for that orientation thing." I told her, then lied down against my pillows and rummaged around in my nearest duffle bag.

"Yeah?" She sniffled.

"Mmhmm." I found my iPod, unwound the earplugs, then clicked it on and shoved the ear buds into my ears. I closed my eyes and got lost in Alanis Morrisett.

A few moments passed. "Santana." She said it sternly, a little bit like the head cheerleader I remembered. I yanked one ear bud out. "Are you going to orientation?"

I barked out a sharp laugh. "No way. Are you kidding?"

She didn't argue with me like I thought she would. Instead she just went to her own bed and shifted around on top of the blankets.

When I woke up, it was dark in the room, with only the small lamp on Quinn's desk on to give any light to the shadowy space. My iPod had long ago turned itself off, the headphones having fallen away from my ears. I let out a small groan, rubbing my eyes in irritation. I hate taking naps – they always screw with me. They make me feel hot and dehydrated, disoriented, and grumpy. The strange thing was, I couldn't quite place what had woken me up. I probably could have slept well into the next morning if it hadn't been for, well, something..

I snapped my head around to stare in the general direction of Quinn's bed. My ears picked up on it then, a soft, faint sobbing noise. The girl was facing away from me, and I could just barely see the glow of her phone that was clutched in her hands. She was crying about something and staring at her cell phone.

I was torn. Quinn couldn't have known I woke up, and she probably didn't want me to know she was crying. I know that I would rather swallow razor blades than break down in front of Quinn Fabray. Still, my heart pulled and cracked with every ragged breath I could hear from her. My mind was foggy with memories of us as younger girls, doing each other's hair and gossiping about boys. I sighed, then slowly rolled off of my bed, padding silently over to Quinn's.

She continued crying, though she may have heard my bed squeak. I don't know. She startled only slightly when I laid down beside her, snuggling close and smoothing a palm over her long, honey hair. She choked on one big sob, then really let loose. The sound was almost animalistic – I had never heard anyone cry like that in my life, like something wounded or shattered. My other arm snaked around and beneath her, clutching her frail body closer to mine, and I simply held her. I didn't know what else to do.

Time passed like that, Quinn facing away from me while the tears choked her and sobs rattled her. Every time the light on her phone went dim, she pressed a button to keep it bright. I couldn't see past her shoulder in order to know what exactly she was looking at, so I could only guess. My free hand continually stroked down her long, smooth hair, my fingertips occasionally massaging into her scalp.

Finally, she began to quiet down, with only her moist, thick breathing breaking the silence between us. I still didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say.

She began wiping away the hot tears on her cheeks, and finally clicked the phone off. The bright glow vanished, making the room darker. She sighed one final time, and I could tell she was done crying for now.

"I'm sorry that I woke you." Her voice was hushed.

"It's okay." I said simply.

Quinn shook her head. "I can't believe this is happening, Santana. I can't believe any of this. I feel like my life is a nightmare."

I nodded, but I didn't fully understand what she was talking about. Being transferred – that was pretty much a nightmare, but it didn't make me want to have an emotional breakdown, not really. At least not yet.

Then something dawned on me. "Have you seen her?"

Quinn's body tensed, and she let out a little squeak, as if she was trying to fight back more tears. "No. No. Shelby and I have a closed adoption. I haven't seen her since the hospital." She brushed away a few of the fat tears that squeezed down her cheeks.

I nodded, and the understanding fully hit me. Quinn wasn't just crying about being sent away, she was crying about her baby. What was her name-? Beth? I remember now. I had been there when she was born, and had glanced at the thing through the delivery room window. I didn't have any feelings about Quinn's pregnancy by Puckerman, except disdain. Everyone in the school knew Puck and I had a thing, and on top of that, little miss Chastity Club was with Finn. I never admitted to anyone, even myself, that it sort of hurt that Quinn would do that. But I didn't stay mad at her. There was no point: us girls swapped boyfriends like other friends swapped friendship bracelets. If I had heard right, even Brittany had slept with Puck at some point, while there was such a thing as 'Pucktana.' Oh well.

I simply rubbed my hand over her bare arm, chasing away the chill I felt there.

"I'm sorry, Quinn." It was all I could think to say. I've never been very good at words, unless it was to tear somebody down. I'm completely useless at making people feel better. Well – there is one exception, and that's Brittany. But that's just because Britt and I are so easy. We just fit together, like puzzle pieces. I never have to apologize to her, and she never has to explain herself to me. We just get each other. Simple as that.

Quinn was a whole different can of worms. The girl was so closed and controlled, I never had any clue what was going on with her.

She nodded and shrugged, and then shifted in the bed so that her face was pointed upwards. I could get a better look at her, and boy, did she look awful. The passionate crying had turned her creamy complexion into a minefield of red, puffy blotches. Her nose and eyes were swollen, her lips unnaturally red. I smiled at her, because I felt like she needed it. She met my gaze awkwardly and tried to smile back.

"So," She chuckled quietly. "What made you decide to come snuggle with me? Trying to cop a feel?" Her words were so deadpanned, but I could tell by the way her lips peeked upwards that she was just teasing with me.

I scoffed, shoving her shoulder a little. "Oh, you know. Pretty girls are my weakness, especially when they cry."

Her eyes bugged out, as if she couldn't believe I said that. I laughed at her stunned expression, poking a finger into her ribs gently. I knew about the rumors at McKinley. I mean, who didn't? Brittany had told everyone at school that we were having sex. It bothered me, but not much at this point. I still had boys begging at my feet, and I had my pick of any one of them.

"Well, I'm flattered, Santana, but I'm really not that into that." She smiled at me though.

I huffed a little bit, scooting away from her, putting some space between our bodies. I also lied flat, staring at the ceiling. I let the silence settle between us before I jerked my head up and stared at her. "Wait, what? What do you mean you aren't that into it? Exactly how into it are you?"

She laughed genuinely then, though it was only a short one. "Yeah, I've had some experience.. there were a few drunken parties." She smiled at me knowingly.

My mind tripped and stumbled over that idea, and those images. "You're joking! Not you, Jesus-Loves-Me!" I could feel the deep gut laughter boiling up inside me, and I just let it out. The idea was hysterical. Quinn had always been such a religious prude, always staring down her nose at Brittany and I at every party we ever went to where we got trashed, made out with boys (or each other) and had sex with somebody in the back of their truck. Every snide, condescending remark she had ever made to me replayed in my brain, and I hooted even louder.

She was slapping at me playfully now, scandalized at the amusement I got out of it. "It's not that funny, Lopez.."

I snorted, my face scrunched in a grin. "With who? The only other girl at McKinley I've ever heard of who kissed other girls is Brittany." Suddenly, my smile died. It was like my face just swallowed it, and my eyes were deadly serious when they met hers. I couldn't handle the thought of Brittany kissing Quinn – for some reason, it just made my heart hurt.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Oh, no! Not Britt!" She let loose a nervous laugh. "Um, uh.. you just aren't going to believe this." She rubbed her fingertips over her knitted eyebrows, staring up at the dark ceiling. "And you can't ever tell anyone."

I grinned mischievously. "You have my word."

Quinn let loose one giant breath and then said really quickly: "Rachel."

My jaw dropped and my eyes popped wide open. "No! No freaking way!"

Quinn just nodded, and though I couldn't really see it, I think her face got darker. I stared at her in amazement, incredulous. "You.. and Rachel Berry? Are you serious? She looks like a drag queen!"

Quinn chuckled a bit at that. "She's not that bad, Santana." She ran her hand through her hair. "She wanted to try it. We were drunk, and Puck and Finn were there, so.." I could feel her shrug next to me.

"Oh, god. Oh my god!" I just wheezed out the tiniest of laughs, because shock still had a stranglehold on my throat. I slowly stared at the ceiling again, completely lost in the idea of Quinn and Rachel making out. It was beyond weird.

Quinn fidgeted nervously. "Say something."

"Uh.." I glanced back at her to see her green eyes staring at me intently. I quickly turned back to the ceiling. "Well, that's your problem." My voice was void of emotion, and so was my face. "No wonder you aren't 'that into it.' Kissing Rachel has to be like kissing a hermaphrodite."

Quinn sputtered on her laughter, choking. I grinned then, repressing a tiny chuckle. When she was calm, she asked me softly, "Are you gay, Santana?"

What! I sprang out of the bed when she said that. My eyes darted around the room crazily, trying to avoid looking at the blond sprawled out on the top of her comforter. It was like those blankets had burned me, and I had pin wheeled to get as far away from them as possible. Quinn was facing me now, and her mask was back on; she was looking at me with the most inscrutable expression.

"Whoa, whoa, now, Blondie," I said hastily, plopping back down on my bed. "Don't get the wrong idea about this. I was just—" I made an impatient gesture with my hands. "You were—"

She held up one finger, gesturing for silence. "I know. You were being nice." Her eyebrow quirked, as if that came as a big surprise. "I didn't mean, about this.. just.. you and Brittany. You guys are, like, together, right?"

I jerked my shoulders into a shrug, bringing my palms around to cup my elbows. "No. I don't know. I mean, we're best friends." I flashed her one of my patented Santana smirks. "We kiss and stuff sometimes, but we aren't together."

Quinn studied me for a moment, and looked like she wanted to ask another question, but then decided against it. "Okay. Well, I knew that I guess." She rolled back onto her back and laid her hands against her stomach. I shook my head, trying to rid my face of some of the heat I felt. My whole body felt light and like it was on fire, and I was almost dizzy.

I huffed a little bit and then dug through my second duffle bag, searching for pajamas. I glanced at my cell phone and noted the time. 12:24 am. Great. I had slept enough to be considered a full night's sleep in my book, and I knew there was nothing to do around here before 6 am.

I grabbed my wad of pajamas and toiletries and headed towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind me with a click. It seemed strange to leave the room to change in front of Quinn – we had seen each other naked too many times to count. But right after that discussion we just had.. I felt my heart stutter a little bit in my chest. If Quinn was asking me if I'm gay, then who else is thinking it? I shook my head sharply, trying to make the thought disappear.

This bathroom was gorgeous. It had a standing glass shower and a toilet, and a huge marble vanity with shelves and cabinents. It wasn't very big, but it would do well enough for me and Fabray.

I pulled off my jeans and red tank top, exchanging them for soft white cotton pajama pants and a blue t-shirt. I brushed out my hair and examined myself in the huge mirror, noticing that my makeup was smeared and crusty looking. With a sigh, I began washing my face and scrubbing, then took out my toothbrush and toothpaste.

Scoured clean and changed, I walked back into the dorm room, to find Quinn nestled beneath her blankets and rolled towards the wall. My eyebrow quirked. I guess she was done talking for tonight. Shrugging, I padded back to my bed and laid down, holding my phone to my chest.

I had four text messages from Brittany.

-Hey. Did u make it?

-I miss u.

-Why hvnt u txtd me?

-Im goin to bed. Hope ur ok. Luv u.

I sighed, then punched the touch screen keyboard.

-I'm fine, Britt. It's been a long day. This place reminds me of Harry Potter. It's like a castle. You will never guess who my roommate is. I glanced over at Quinn, then pressed SEND.

I sighed, rolled over, and scooted beneath my black blanket. I wasn't tired, but there was nothing else to do. I'm sure there's some kind of curfew. Tomorrow would be my first full day at this place, and I needed to get my bearings before classes started on Monday.

I clutched my Brittany unicorn, nuzzling my face into the soft scent that was a mixture of jasmine and peaches, and sat staring at the wall until I finally fell asleep.

A/N: Yes, no? Comments welcome.