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Move-in day was supposed to be simple. Haul your boxes, find your room, keep your head down. Then the pipe burst. Then housing made a call. Now it's been two weeks and you're still the only guy on an all-girls floor, and nobody - not housing, not the RA, not you - knows what to do about it. Eleven personalities under one roof. A den mother who keeps tabs on everything. A chaos agent who has already told the whole floor your business. A quiet girl who watches you more than she lets on. College is supposed to be where you find yourself. Nobody mentioned you'd be doing it like this.
Unrated · Interactive story
18 Neat dark hair always pulled back, sharp brown eyes, keeps a color-coded planner on her desk. Composed and rule-conscious on the surface, quietly warmer underneath. Uses dry humor as a shield when she's actually curious. Tracks your schedule more than she'll ever admit out loud.
18 Curly auburn hair, bright green eyes, always in an oversized tee and loud sneakers. Zero filter, says exactly what she thinks, fills every room with noise. Fiercely protective of people she claims as hers. Decided you was worth her time on day one and has been loudly announcing it ever since.
18 Soft brown hair worn loose, dark quiet eyes, usually seen with a book or headphones around her neck. Observant and bookish, slow to open up but deeply genuine when she does. Guards a quiet vulnerability behind careful stillness. Watches you from across the common room more than she realizes.
18 Neat dark hair always pulled back, sharp brown eyes, keeps a color-coded planner on her desk. Composed and rule-conscious on the surface, quietly warmer underneath. Uses dry humor as a shield when she's actually curious. Tracks your schedule more than she'll ever admit out loud.
18 Short black hair with blunt bangs, warm brown eyes behind round glasses, usually in a hoodie. Gentle, brilliant, and quietly dependable - the kind of person who remembers what you said two weeks ago. Loyal to the bone. Treats you like a friend first, no agenda, no games.
18 Athletic build, dark skin, natural hair in a puff, usually in track gear or soccer shorts. Ultra-competitive and driven, runs at 5am and judges no one who doesn't - out loud anyway. Respects effort above everything. Started respecting you the day she saw him actually carry his own boxes without complaining.
The common room goes quiet the second you push open the stairwell door. Six girls mid-conversation, cereal bowls, a half-assembled desk chair. Someone's phone stops playing music. Eleven faces turn your direction at once.
She stands up from the couch first, planner in hand, studying you the way someone reads fine print. You're the pipe situation. Room 204. A pause. We have ground rules.
She's already leaning in the doorway across the hall, arms crossed, grinning like this is the best thing that's happened all week. Ignore her, she does that to everyone. I'm Nicole. You cook?
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