by Jaclyn Jhin
After scanning my ID card in the electronic slot by the automatic glass doors, I stepped into the dorm’s warm embrace. I padded along the faded purple carpet and then pushed the elevator button with my knuckle, this time hoping my mystery roommate wouldn’t be home. No more talking. No more new people. I had enough social interaction for one day. Just let me tuck myself beneath my sheets and drift away. I could face everything tomorrow if I could just be alone for a little while.
The elevator dropped me off at the second-floor hallway. In the time I was gone, our RA found time to decorate the beige walls with inspirational posters, including quotes like:
“What we think, we become.” ~Buddha.
“Believe you can and you’re halfway there.” ~Theodore Roosevelt.
“All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.” ~Walt Disney.
Reading them actually made me feel better. As I continued to look on, I noticed two comfy-looking leather couches flanking a pool table in the lounge opposite the posters. Two unshaven guys in t-shirts sat in front of a big screen TV watching Game of Thrones while munching tacos out of delivery bags.
“But what’d you send her?” the guy on the left asked, talking over the show.
“One of those eggplant emojis followed by a thumbs up. Picture is worth a thousand words,” the other one said, looking down at his phone hopefully.
“And you’re wondering why she hasn’t replied?”
“I’m just being straightforward!”
“You’re just being an idiot.”
I put my head down as they both stopped talking to stare at me. Suddenly feeling exposed, I rushed down the hall to room 203, right next to the exit for the stairs. I slipped in my card and pulled the handle.
I walked into an explosion of color. I had to blink a few times to take it all in. I had left the bare-walled room with just my monochrome-colored white sheets and white comforter on my bed, but now returned to what looked like a tropical beach house. A couple of posters of an ocean sunset hung on each side of the beds, and some smaller photos of beautiful white sandy beaches with clear blue water covered the wall between the two windows. White, beaded lights hung from the ceiling, creating a trapeze of sparkles; and there were two wind chimes made of seashells hanging above each window sill. Both beds now sported matching teal sheets, grey comforters, and striped, turquoise pillows. On each nightstand stood gigantic mugs as big as bowls, with the words HELLO, GORGEOUS printed on the outside.
I was still taking in the full spectacle with my mouth slightly ajar when a petite brunette came out of the bathroom. “Yay! You must be Kelly!”
She appeared to be about five-foot-two with muscular, toned arms and legs. Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks. She got on her tippy toes and threw her arms around me for a big hug, then stepped back to look at me.
Self-consciously, I put my hands in my pockets. “Yes, hi. Kelly Hopkins.”
She brushed her perfectly styled bangs from her forehead, then tucked the sides of her shoulder length hair behind her small ears as she grabbed another string of lights from the bed. I wasn’t sure where she would find room to fit them amongst the zoo lights she had already created.
“I’m Melissa. Melissa Schulman. I’m so glad you’re here. I was afraid I’d have to sleep alone.” She had a perky, high-pitched voice I associated with over-caffeinated cheerleaders.
“Yeah, it can be little eerie in here alone.”
“Oh, my God, you’ve been here forever, haven’t you?”
“Just two nights.”
“That totally sucks. My parents wouldn’t let me go till the last minute.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I looked around the room again at the decorations. She noticed, curling the lights into her chest. “I know I went a little overboard. I just wasn’t sure. Well, I mean it was pretty empty so ...”
She let her voice trail off. I didn’t want to make her feel bad, especially since this was our first-time meeting. “No, no, it’s great. I hadn’t really put up anything yet, anyway.”
“Where are you from?” She turned around, taping plastic lights to another corner of the ceiling. “I love the sunset and the beach, don’t you?” she said as she readjusted one of the sunset posters, pounding the side of her fist into the wall to make it stick.
I tried to yell above the pounding. “L.A.! And YES, I love the beach, too!”
She stopped and turned around, her mouth dropping open. “L.A.? I love L.A. Never been, but it looks ah-mazing. There are so many great beaches there, like Malibu, right?”
“Yeah, Malibu, Santa Monica, Venice, Manhattan ... It can be pretty cool. Really bad traffic, though.”
“So I hope you don’t mind.” She hopped off the bed, landing with a thump. She wiggled her small hips and hands to readjust her green jeans, then pointed to our matching bedspreads. “My mom can’t shop online, apparently. She always orders two of everything.”
I looked around more closely, realizing there really was two of everything: two blue rugs, two blue lamps, and two turquoise office supply sets with two gigantic paper clips and two miniature staplers. “No, that’s fine. It’s really nice.”
“Final sale. Can’t return ‘em. But, hey, who doesn’t like free stuff, right?”
“Always good,” I said, inwardly relieved.
“And I also—” she pulled open the closet doors by my bed. Another explosion of colors hung from the horizontal metal pole. Every type of clothing selection from evening gowns to workout tank tops lined the closet, all squished together like a triple club sandwich. “Tried to only take up half the space. I saw you hung up some stuff, but I’m assuming you have more?”
I could count less than a dozen hangers on my side, draped with long sleeve shirts and hoodies. “No, not really. I’m not much of a clothes person.”
“Um, okay. Well, you can count this as all yours, too. I mean if you ever need something.”
“Wow, thanks.” Although I doubted I’d ever feel okay borrowing her stuff.
“Of course, girl! And these bags here are the holiday decorations.” She pointed to two huge trash bags on the floor by her array of shoes. “I thought we could start October 12th for Halloween. November 25th for Christmas. That okay?”
“Sure.” I sat on my bed, not sure where else to go.
Melissa flipped through the hangers in the closet. “You are going to love it here. My family used to spend summers in the Hamptons, so I know all the good spots. Do you like going out? Because I know all the cool bars. And running! We can go running in Central Park on the weekends. Total hangover cure.” She laughed, taking a baggy grey shirt off a hanger.
“I don’t really run too often, but I did just get a bike.”
She pulled off her blue tank top to throw on the grey shirt. I looked at the floor, not sure where to place my eyes.
“That’s so cool.” She unfastened her bra underneath her shirt and tossed it in a laundry basket by the door. I tried to look away again. “That’ll help you get around campus, too.” She went back toward her bed. “It’s pretty big. Damn, you’re going to look so cute on your shiny new bike all over town. I should’ve gotten one.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it shiny. Or new.”
She smoothed out her sheets before flipping onto the mattress and shoving a pillow under her head. “No?”
“Yeah. Some idiot almost took me out when I was riding to work so now it has a bunch of scratch marks.”
“Are you serious? Are you okay?”
Going over to our shared desk, I impulsively started organizing the bright blue office collection. For some reason, it always made me feel better to do something with my hands. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just kinda annoyed.” I laughed.
“What a jerk. Did he offer to do anything?”
“Gave me some cash to fix it.”
“He gave you cash? Did he throw it at you—like a gangster?”
I had to laugh again. “No, he didn’t throw it at m
e, but he’s clearly a spoiled brat because I can tell he thinks money can solve everything. He must be a trust fund baby ... he seemed like he was only a little bit older than me.”
“Was he at least cute?”
I remembered his blue eyes and couldn’t helped blushing.
“Oh, my God. You totally like him!”
“No, I don’t.”
“Did he ask you out after he hit you? That would be so romantic.”
“Um, actually, he did. Then he gave me his business card, which was kinda weird.”
“Business card? Let me see.”
I reached in my wallet and handed it to her. She looked at it, then immediately dropped it on the ground as her hand flew to cover her open mouth. “Ian Anderson? The Ian Anderson?”
I was flummoxed by her reaction. Who is Ian Anderson? Am I supposed to know? “What? Is he a movie star or something?”
“What? You’ve never heard of the Andersons? His dad is on like, the list of 100 Wealthiest Men in the World.”
I shrugged, picking the card off the floor. “Like I said, he seemed like a brat.”
“Oh, my God, this is ah-mazing! You are so lucky. You almost got run over by Ian Anderson. That is soooo cool.”
I still didn’t understand why she was so excited about this. What was the big deal?
She leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees. “So tell me, exactly what did he say?”
“He wanted to know if he could pick me up after work.”
I thought Melissa might fall off her bed. “He wanted to take you out?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s ah-mazing!”
I shook my head, opening the bathroom door. I wondered what kind of elf -like magic she brought in here.
“You said yes, yes?”
I lingered outside. “No. He knows he’s cute. And he probably thinks he can get any girl he wants.”
“Well. Yeah.”
I looked at her.
“Ahhh, I see. Playing hard to get. All right, I get it.”
“I don’t play anything.” Entering the bathroom, I couldn’t help counting the number of lavender aromatherapy candles currently lit on our small counter (seven). I called out to her as I began washing my face. “And he wasn’t even asking me on a date. He was probably worried about his liability or something.”
“Girl, my parents would die if I dated someone like Ian. Well, a Jewish version.”
The phone rang. I peeked my head out the door. We both looked at each other in confusion. I had forgotten the room came with a landline like a hotel. We searched for the ringing sound, picking up plastic bags and pillowcases until we found a cord leading to the device at the corner of the floor.
Melissa tentatively picked up the handset. “Hello?” She listened for a second, then her mouth dropped open. She covered the phone. “You. Lucky. Girl.”
I shifted my weight to the other foot, unsure I wanted to know who was on the line. Melissa handed me the phone with the faded eggshell-colored cord spiraling. I twisted it in my hand. “Hello?”
Melissa sat on the nightstand, bouncing her knees and biting her lip.
“Kelly?” a man’s voice said on the other end. “It’s Ian. From before, with the um—I was the jerk. The jerk from before.”
“How did you get this number?” I tightened my grip on the cord.
“All the freshman names are in this booklet. We get it the first day of class.”
“Wait. You go to Columbia?” I tried to remember his nonchalant reaction from before.
“Yes. I’m a first year at the law school.”
I frowned. Melissa put her knees to her chest.
“Why didn’t you say so?”
“I don’t know. Look, I swear I’m not a stalker. I just feel really bad about what happened, and I’d like to make up for it by taking you out to dinner.”
I covered the mouthpiece and looked at Melissa, who had her hands clasped, raised to her chin. She mouthed, “SAY YES!”
I sighed, then pulled the handset closer to my mouth. I tapped my foot a couple times against the floor until Melissa suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me close. “If you don’t say yes right this second, I will use my impeccable acting skills to mimic your adorable, naive voice and do it for you.”
She let me go, and I stood back, shifting my weight to the other foot. I shook my head, then tried to muster an indifferent tone. “Fine.”
Melissa threw her arms up in victory.
“How about Thursday?” Ian continued. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Wait. So you already know my dorm room, too?”
“Is that a problem? It’s in the book.”
“It’s a little creepy.”
Ian laughed. “Columbia always wants you to know where to find study help, I guess.”
“I guess.”
Melissa threw me a tentative thumbs-up. I shook my head again.
“So, seven on Thursday?”
I hugged the phone closer to my chest, something I realized I hadn’t done in years. My parents used to have a landline when I was a kid. Suddenly, I remembered picking it up when my mom forgot something at the store. I always played with the cord, and she always made comments about how I tangled it.
“Fine.”
“All right. See you then.”
“Okay, bye.” I put the handset in its cradle before catching his goodbye.
Before I knew it, Melissa’s arms flung around me. She was so tiny, it felt like a little kid hugging me. “This is so cool!”
I slowly circled my arms around her, patting her back before she released me. A wild look came into her eyes as she dropped onto the nightstand, swinging her legs over. “We have to celebrate.”
“Oh, no, it’s okay. School’s starting soon, and I should organize.”
But she wasn’t listening. She slipped beneath her bed, opening a box bursting with even more decorations. Amongst a forest of rainbow streamers and glitter, she located two portable black Bose speakers she plugged into the wall. “And we have two speakers.”
I sat down on my bed, trying to ignore the warm feeling growing in my stomach. No. This was not a happy thing. This was just another activity on my already packed to-do list. Think of it like a business meeting. Or a tutoring session.
“Okay, I’m not trying to be racist,” Melissa plugged her iPhone into the dock of the speaker. “But you must know EXO, right? The Korean pop band?”
I picked up my planner, flipping to Thursday’s page. “...Yes.”
“Who’s your favorite?”
“Probably D.O. or Kai,” I said, their latest music video flashing through my head. I always felt a little crush bubble up when I watched them and realized this warm feeling in my stomach matched that. But that was stupid. D.O. and Kai could dance and sing while looking beautiful, while Ian’s abilities stopped and ended at being rich and driving at reckless speeds. So why was I experiencing the same feeling for him?
Growl started playing. “Yo, okay ... Sexy.”
Melissa started dancing, and I couldn’t help but to smile. It was so refreshing to see someone so carefree. Then she started bouncing around the room, arms up in the air, jumping between our beds. I burst out laughing. She laughed, too, motioning me to join her. I shook my head and stood still. I wondered what it would be like to be that carefree. I knew her type: the kind of girl who could start jumping up and down and head-banging in the middle of a crowd. They were rarely judged because people could tell they didn’t care what anyone else thought. I managed to quietly sing some lyrics when she looked at me expectantly, but mostly I pretended to busy myself with my planner on my bed while she continued to enjoy her white-people dancing skills.
I opened up to Thursday. 7:00pm - Ian Anderson.
* * *
I felt immense relief seeing Halmuni’s familiar face, even if the only thing I could see was the tip of her nose. She hadn’t quite yet figured out how to use the front-facing camera on her iPhone. A day
had passed and Melissa had gone out for the night, probably to join the five new friends she’d already made in our hall. I sat up in my bed, trying to explain to Halmuni she could tilt the camera up and still be able to see me.
“Halmuni, I’ll stay in the same spot. But I can’t see you very well.”
“I just need see you.”
I rolled my eyes, hoping she could see that. “Okay, fine.”
“So what you have tell me? Be safe in Columbia?”
“Oh, yeah.” I decided to leave out my risky trip to Harlem to buy my bike as well as its near-fatal aftermath. “And my roommate is really nice.”
“She Korean?”
“No, she’s white. Her name’s Melissa.”
“Make sure she no introduce you to white boys. Have you found Korean club?”
“Halmuni, it’s only my fourth day here.” I sunk into my pillow.
“There must be one. There you meet nice Korean boy.”
“Sure.”
“You meet any yet?”
That stupid warm feeling surfaced in my stomach again. I wanted to tell Halmuni about Ian, only because it was more exciting than hearing her complain about the female news anchor’s overly-tight blouse again. But I also knew my excitement would ebb once she began her ranting about how mixed-race couples were doomed for failure.
“No,” I said. It was the truth; I hadn’t met any Korean boys.
“Maybe in classes.”
“Yeah.” But I already knew how class would go. In your daydreams, you expect to meet the cutest, sweetest, smartest boy who just happens to sit next to you and asks you to be part of his study group. In reality, a bunch of silent Korean boys would barely notice me. And if they did, it would only be to ask me to scoot over for one of their friends.
“Anything else tell Halmuni?”
“I miss you.” I did. Even her ridiculous rants about TV made me feel at home. I would never admit it because it would make me sound like a baby, but I missed her short but tight hugs. They reminded me I was where I was supposed to be.
“Aw, bogoshipuh, Kelly.”