After Carmilla dumped her stuff on the bed, LaFontaine, Perry, and Danny all quickly excused themselves. LaFontaine had to go back to lab to stop a biological reaction or else "the plasmid's going to be completely chewed up!" What does that even mean? Perry had to supervise the rest of the freshmen as they moved into the dorms and make sure "no one steps in that poisonous swamp by the art building." We have a poisonous swamp?And Danny had to oversee preparations for "the annual Summer Society start-of-the-year party. Want to come with?" Yes! I'm totally down! But wait, I shouldn't push myself on her too much. She's probably just being nice. I should give her some space. But what if she never asks me again? Should I ask for her number?
Danny looked at her expectantly, one hand on the brass doorknob. Laura pulled herself together.
"Yeah, about the party, I think I should unpack first. And I'm still feeling sort of weird from before so I don't think I should drink. Tonight, at least." Laura did her best to sound cool and detached. I hope she doesn't think I hate parties or something.
"Okay, sounds good. Yeah, you should probably sleep early or something. I'll see you around then. See you, Carmilla," Danny tossed over her shoulder while pulling the door shut.
Laura started. Danny's presence made her completely forget that someone else was in the room. She took a breath, steadying herself. She was alone with Carmilla. Why am I so nervous? Focus Hollis. Let's try to make a friend. Laura opened her mouth.
"Your girlfriend's not coming back anytime soon, spaz."
Laura spluttered incoherently. She turned around and faced Carmilla, whose nose was buried in some book.
"She's not my girlfriend!" Laura tried to emphasize the "not."
"Sure. And you're not gay."
Laura didn't know what to say. So, she settled for unpacking her things. She unzipped her big suitcase and started laying out all her clothing in neat piles—underwear, bras, socks, pants, shorts, skirts, shirts, dresses, sweaters, cardigans, jackets, and her hunting outfit. She gathered up her underwear pile and walked over to the closet at the back of the room. Laura tried pulling open the door, but it was stuck. She sighed and set her armful of clothing down. Using both hands, she yanked on the handle as hard as she could. The door flew open. A deluge of clothing inundated Laura, burying her under its many layers. She shrieked and tried clawing her way out, gasping for air.
"What was that!" Laura threw an accusatory stare at Carmilla.
"What?" Carmilla didn't even bother lifting her eyes from her current page.
"I don't know if you noticed, but I almost died because someone left a huge pile of clothes in the closet!" Laura shouted as she angrily extricated herself from the pile. "I could've suffocated! I could've died! I could've—"
"Relax, cutie. You're fine." Carmilla took a sip from her thermos, and fingered the corner of the page.
"That's not the point! How about some warning next time?" Laura seethed, glaring at daggers at her roommate. Seriously, how rude is this girl? She hasn't looked at me even once! I swear, if she reads one more page—.
Carmilla flipped the page.
Laura marched over to her and snatched the book away.
"What the frilly hell is this?" Carmilla tried to take her book back, but Laura danced out of reach.
"As roommates, we should try to be polite. So, when I ask you something, don't just sit there and ignore me! That's bad communication, and friends aren't supposed to—"
In one fluid motion, Carmilla stood. Laura's never seen anyone move so gracefully. It was kind of intimidating. Laura didn't realize how close she'd gotten to the her, and hastily stepped back. Carmilla wasn't that much taller, maybe two or three inches at the most, but Laura felt like she towered over her. She shrank away. Carmilla's bangs hid her eyes, and shadows wreathed the rest of her face. But, her voice came out crystal clear.
"We are not friends." Carmilla took a slow step forward. Laura took a quick step back.
"We will not be friends." Another step forward. Another step back.
"Now, why don't you give me what is mine?" Carmilla purred dangerously, taking one more step. Laura felt paralyzed. She couldn't back away anymore, her legs pressed against the side of her bed. They were so close that Laura couldn't look at Carmilla without getting cross-eyed. Everything was still, save for the rapid rise and fall of Laura's chest.
Laura gulped, frightened. She wordlessly handed her the book. Carmilla ran her slender fingers along the spine, briefly brushing Laura's hand. Her fingers were surprisingly warm, in sharp contrast to the icy tone of her voice. Laura shuddered. She let go of the book and watched Carmilla fall back onto her bed, thumbing to the right page. An ominous silence settled over the room. Laura carefully turned and went back to the pile of underwear and goodness knows what else. Carmilla definitely wasn't going to help her clean this up. She sighed. There were so many clothes to fold. Alone. To make matters worse, she didn't even get Danny's number.
Over the next few days, Laura learned quite a lot about her roommate.
Carmilla never looked her directly in the eye. She always averted her gaze when Laura tried talking to her. Laura became used to that after a while, but it still bothered her. Am I so ugly she can't even look me in the face without going blind? Once, Laura deliberately stuck her face right at Carmilla as she entered the room. But, Carmilla simply rushed away and returned with a balaclava. Laura stopped trying after that.
Carmilla was also seemingly nocturnal. How does she even go class? How is she not flunking out? She didn't like to sleep at night, preferring to hibernate during the day. In Laura's bed. Sometimes wearing Laura's pajamas. Laura lost count of the number of times she routed Carmilla out of her half of the room, only to come back and find her in her bed. Again.
She stole Laura's things, namely her hot chocolate and her favorite yellow pillow. I wonder if I can report this to the police. Laura tried, but campus security just laughed off her complaints. Apparently, they had bigger problems to worry about, like when the next werewolf battle would take place or the influx of illegal imps that tried to jump the border fence.
Carmilla seemed deathly allergic to cleaning, but created messes as if her life depended on it. Dirty dishes piled up faster than Laura could wash them. Dust bunnies the size of pumpkins lived under her bed and snapped at Laura when she wanted to vacuum. Weird slimy molds started growing in the sink and tried migrating into the refrigerator. I guess that passive aggressive note I left didn't get through to her. Carmilla frequently clogged the shower drain and used Laura's brushes. I can literally make a wig out of all the hair I picked up. Laura finally made a chore wheel but found Carmilla using it as a coaster. To be completely honest, Laura didn't think she'd actually use it. But, it was worth a try.
To top it all off, Carmilla loved sexiling Laura. The first time that happened, Laura accidentally walked in on her going at it with a blonde girl who looked vaguely familiar. Laura blushed beet red and backed out quickly, muttering apologies out of embarrassment. Wait, why do I have to be sorry again? It's not my fault! She tried going back inside. Carmilla simply smirked and doubled her volume, forcing Laura to seek sanctuary in Perry's room. This happened often enough that Laura grew immensely annoyed. She still didn't have the guts to throw out Carmilla's "study buddies" as she called them, but let slip that Carmilla had a raging case of cold sores that were super contagious. Bizarrely enough, the girls kept coming. Why does someone want to get cold sores? Carmilla must have a magic finger or something. Judging from the sounds emanating from the room, Carmilla did indeed.
At the end of the week, Laura reached a conclusion.
Carmilla was, unequivocally, the worst roommate ever. And that was including the Tyra-Banks-worshipping group of vampire hunters.