The first thing you noticed about your new dorm room was that the door was already open. Not just unlocked—open. A sliver of hallway light spilled across the threshold, and somewhere inside, a low voice was saying something that ended in a laugh. Your suitcase wheels stuttered against the tile. You’d been assigned to room 307, Lawrence Hall, with a girl named Maya Chen. You’d pictured unpacking boxes in silence, maybe nervous small talk. Instead, you stepped inside and found a boy stretched across your bed like he’d been there for years.

He had black hair that fell into his eyes, a leather jacket shrugged halfway off one shoulder, and a hand full of silver rings resting on his stomach. His boots were planted on your fresh lavender comforter like it was furniture. He didn’t sit up when you entered. He just turned his head, looked you over once, and gave you the kind of slow, unimpressed blink people give strangers on public transit.

Across the room, a girl with dark eyeliner and a vape between her fingers was pulling clothes from a duffel bag. She glanced over, then smiled like she’d been expecting you.