I had just spent the last eight hours in a car with no air conditioning on a scorching hot day with my parents. If that's not foreshadowing for many years of therapy, I don't know what is. So, here I was, an eighteen-year-old girl standing outside of my college dormitory, alone, ready to face the world after getting the key to my private site from the main office.926Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqCne5Zbq9i
You see, Redcliffe Technical Institute wasn't just any regular college. It was a private college, an all girl's college, that my parents practically demanded that I attend. I kept telling them that the next four years was going to be a catastrophic failure, based on the fact that I wouldn't be having a social life but nevertheless, they insisted that I attend RTI instead of going out of State. Since they were paying for my tuition and fees and even my dorm room for the next four years, I suppose I really had no right to argue with them so, RTI it was.
The first day of classes was still over a week away but I wanted to get there early so I could get settled away in my dorm room and get familiar with the campus if I was going to be spending most of my time in the lecture building, the track and field-building, and, of course, the library. According to my parents, my sole purpose in going to college was to read, write, and run.
I hated running but my parents spent years telling me how much they wanted me to be the female version of Usain Bolt and as their only child, I didn't want to disappoint them so, Redcliffe Technical Institute, it was.
"Seriously, this place looks like a freaking church," I said as I watched my parents pull away in their Chevrolet Yukon. "Well, I guess this is home for the next four years. Here goes nothing."
Grabbing the handle of my large suitcase on wheels, I made my way inside to the elevator. Just my luck, the elevator was broken which meant I had to pull my hundred-pound suitcase up two flights of stairs. When I finally reached the second floor, I slowly headed down the hallway, pulling my suitcase behind me, looking for room number 313. Go figure, my room was at the end of the long hallway.
"Nothing ever comes easy, does it?" I grumbled as I unlocked the door and made my way inside of my dorm room. "Oh, I'm... I'm sorry, I must be in the wrong room," I said, stopping in my tracks as I stepped inside.
I came face to face with a girl about the same age as me, wearing a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a spaghetti strap top, who was just as surprised to see me as I was to see her.
She was about 5'3" tall with medium length black hair and bright blue eyes. Although she was small in stature, she seemed to have a very mature body that included great legs with sexy thighs and seemingly perfectly shaped breasts that filled out her shirt beautifully. At first glance, secretly, of course, I'd say that her boobs were at least 34b, maybe even a c- cup.
"Really," She responded in a sarcastic voice. "How'd you get the door unlocked then, huh?"
"Good question," I replied, realizing that she had a point, staring at the key that I was holding in my hand. "I guess that means you're in the wrong room then."
"I don't think so," She replied with a smile as she pulled a key from the pocket of her jean shorts and smiled at me. "Guess again. I'm Ronda, your new roommate."
"Um... It's nice to meet you, Ronda. I'm Mira," I said as I put the key back in my pocket. "But, you see, my parents paid for a private suite for me which means..."
"Which means you're gonna be as disappointed as I was to learn that because of overcrowding, all private suites have been transformed into doubles now," Ronda replied as she handed me a piece of paper that, obviously, the main office forgot to give me. "Here, read it for yourself."
After reading the short memo, I quickly looked around the suite. It was a little small but big enough to be comfortable. It had a small living room, an even smaller kitchen, and a short hallway with two doors at the end of it.
"This is just great," I said as I slapped the paper down on the top of the cupboard as I grabbed my suitcase again. "I'm assuming the public washroom is out in the hallway. I'll find it later." I began to grumble as I headed down a short hallway. "I'll be in my room unpacking if you..."
"You mean... This washroom," Ronda replied as she walked ahead of me and opened one of the doors at the end of the hallway. "I told you, it's a double now. We have a washroom here but we share the same room."
"This can't be," I said, disgusted, as I opened the other door and walked into the only bedroom in the suite. "I've never shared a bedroom with anyone in my life and I'm..."
"Just stop complaining already," Ronda said as she entered the room behind me and sat down on one of the two beds that were situated across from each other. "Look on the bright side.
"What bright side?" I asked her as I stared around the room. "My en suite washroom back home was bigger than this room."
"Yeah, I'll bet it was," Ronda said, sitting on her bed in the Indian position, practically laughing at me. "At least you get your own dresser."
"Look, I get my own pillow too," I said in a sarcastic voice as I picked up my suitcase and threw it down on my bed. "You're just hilarious."
"And you're a spoiled little rich kid who's gonna get a major reality shock over the next four years in you keep that attitude," Ronda said, prompting me to turn around and stare at her. "Don't look at me like that because it's true. You're..."
"You actually think I'm rich," I said, giggling at Ronda, as I shook my head at her. "Trust me, I'm not rich."
"What do you mean?" She asked me. "I thought I was the only one at RTI who isn't rich."
"My parents are posting for my tuition and everything but they're not rich, not by any means," I said as I began pulling clothes out of my suitcase and putting it away in my assigned dresser. "They sent me here just so they could keep controlling my life," I added. "It just goes to show how stupid they are."
"I don't get it," Ronda said. "How are they controlling..."
"My parents sent me here because they want me to focus on my studies instead of dating guys," I said as I turned around and faced Ronda. "Well, the joke is on them because I don't date guys. I'm a lesbian, Ronda. I bet you wish I wasn't your roommate now, huh."
"You lose," Ronda replied in a low voice after a few seconds of complete silence. "Do your parents know, you know, that you're a lesbian?"
"No, they don't," I replied, wanting to kick myself for blurting that out to someone I didn't even know. "In fact, no one knows so just forget I even mentioned it."
"Well, that's not fair," Ronda said. "You can't tell me something like that and just expect me to forget that you said anything about..."
"Yeah, I can," I quickly replied, snapping at her, as I grabbed a t-shirt out of my suitcase. "If I can't fucking trust you to keep a secret how am I supposed to..."
"Of course, you can trust me," Ronda replied as she slowly got up off her bed and stood in front of me. "In fact, you can totally trust me," She said, sounding quite serious, as she held out her hand. "Let's start over. Hi, I'm Ronda Richmond, your new roommate, but please, call me Ronnie."
"Ok, it's nice to meet you, Ronnie," I replied, smiling and nodding my head at her, as I reached out and shook her hand. "I'm Miranda DeLuca but you can call me Mira. In fact, I strongly insist on it."
"It's nice to meet you, Mira," Ronnie replied with a smile of her own. "Now that you're over your little temper tantrum about sharing a suite with me, I'm gonna go order is a pizza for dinner because this girl just didn't cook."
"Great," I mumbled to myself as Ronnie turned to walk away. "This is gonna be the longest for years of my life."
"I'm sorry," Ronnie says as she stopped, turned around, and stared at me. "What'd you say?"
"Um... No pineapple," I quickly replied. "I said I don't like pineapple on my pizza, that's all."
"Really, neither do I," She said with a little chuckle. "See, we have something in common already."
"I'm sure, that's the only thing we have in common," I thought to myself as she walked out of my, I mean our, room. "Welcome to college, Mira," I mumbled under my breath as I began digging through my suitcase again.
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