by Bret Schulte
They reached Sam’s room first.
“I guess this is my stop,” Sam said.
Looking at her new door, she realized she was going to have to get one of those dry erase boards to write little amusing messages on, like in college movies.
She swung the door open.
“Whoa. What the heck is that?” Tasha asked loudly.
Sam was curious as well.
Inside her room there were two beds, two squat bookshelves that doubled as nightstands, and two desks, just like the brochure said. She had studied the layout of her future room many times to figure out exactly what to pack. But what caught her eye first was something that she was pretty sure was never mentioned in the brochure.
A large metal ring stood on one side of the room. A string of wires was wrapped around the ring, which in itself appeared to be made from random bits of machine parts. She recognized a couple of motherboards, most of a transformer box, and half of a toaster among the parts. Attached to the bottom of the ring by a thick black cord and a thin silver wire was a control panel with a number of buttons, dials, and blinking lights.
All in all it appeared to be a leftover piece of scenery from some cheesy low-budget black and white sci-fi movie. Maybe her roommate was a major science nerd, or a filmmaker, or one of those abstract artists who made sculptures from pieces of trash. If Sam got to choose she would go with artist. She figured an artist roommate would be a lot of fun.
Sam looked around the rest of the room for more clues. The left side, which she assumed was her side, was empty except for the furniture and the boxes of her clothes and other belongings that sat next to the bed where Helen and Harold had left them. Her roommate had clearly moved in already. The closet door was open and stuffed with clothes. Her bookshelf was full of books already. Mostly physics books, including A Brief History of Time and Quantum Theory and Practice, which put a damper on Sam’s artist idea.
There was even an Albert Einstein poster on the wall, the famous one where he is sticking his tongue out at someone.
“What kind of nerd queen are you living with?” Tasha asked.
“I can only imagine,” Sam said, shaking her head. She was imagining someone with uneven pigtails and thick glasses, perhaps someone not too different from a young Helen.
“Hi, my name’s Zoey,” said a voice from behind them.
Chapter 6
Roomies
Sam hadn’t heard anyone enter the room and now, after being in her new dorm room for less than five minutes, she had already insulted her roommate. Sometimes Sam was surprised by just how easily she could get her freakishly oversized foot into her mouth. It was really quite a talent.
Sam and Tasha both turned slowly to face whatever well-deserved wraith her new roommate was about to unleash.
She was an interesting sight. Sam couldn’t help but notice that she was an extremely pretty Indian girl, like movie-star pretty, and she clearly had an eccentric fashion sense. Her long, gorgeous hair was raven-black with a streak of blue down one side and a streak of bright pink down the other, which matched her bright pink skirt. She had on a baggy black T-shirt, red-and-white striped leggings, and thick-heeled boots that made her an inch taller than Sam.
“Hi, I’m Sam. Uh, Samantha. Hathaway. Your roommate,” Sam said, truly hoping that Zoey didn’t take offense to her and Tasha’s earlier comments.
“And I’m Tasha. I live down the hall,” Tasha said pointing at the hallway.
“Good to meet you. I’m Zoey, like I said. Zoey Dalal.” She curtsied. “I hope I didn’t take up too much room.”
“No, no. Everything seems fine,” Sam said. “We were just wondering what that giant ring was?”
“Oh, that’s my senior project,” Zoey said matter-of-factly.
Sam didn’t even know there was a senior project, and certainly had no plans to start on it in her freshman year. She was only taking the basic classes this semester anyway, until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. So far her options seemed to be cookie baker and bum.
“That’s very impressive,” Sam said. “What does it-?”
“I don’t suppose you’re going to have any spare room in your closet, will you?” Zoey asked. She walked over to the unpacked boxes on her bed.
“I don’t know.” Sam really had no idea how much closet space she was going to need. She had never been much for fashion, really, especially on the Robinsons’ dime, but she had brought enough clothes for a whole year.
“That’s all right.” Zoey stuffed one of the remaining boxes under her bed.
“Oh, no,” Tasha said, poking her head into the hallway. “My parents must be waiting to say goodbye to me. My dad is standing in the hallway like a goon.”
“Nat!” a deep voice called.
“He saw me. I’d better go,” Tasha said, smirking. “Talk to you later.”
Tasha stepped into the crowded hallway nearly running into a girl carrying an astronaut helmet.
“So, your parents didn’t stick around to help you unpack, huh?” Sam asked Zoey in the hopes of sustaining conversation.
“Nope, they are out of the country,” Zoey said while casually tossing socks into the top drawer of her dresser.
Sam realized that she should start unpacking too.
“How about your folks? They seemed to be in a hurry this morning,” Zoey asked while sniffing a sock to make sure it was clean.
“Helen and Harold are my godparents actually,” Sam said as she ripped the tape off of her first box; the one labeled SAM’S STUFF SUPER IMPORTANT.
“I didn’t think you looked much like them.” Zoey examined the pair of green and pink socks in her hand like she had never seen them before. “Do these look right to you?”
They deserve to be burned immediately.
Sam figured that was an impolite response so she chose something more diplomatic.
“Interesting.”
“Gag me with a spoon,” Zoey said and tossed them out the window.
“Whoa.”
“I’m sure they will be found by some nice chipmunk and keep him warm,” Zoey said.
The balled up pair of socks came flying back in through the window, landing on Zoey’s bed.
Zoey and Sam exchanged looks.
“I guess the chipmunk didn’t like them,” Sam said with a shrug.
“Guess not.”
The girls peered out the window.
Three floors below them a boy with shaggy brown hair was brushing leaves off of his pants. Apparently he had driven his yellow moped into the bushes right below their window.
Most likely because a pair of socks mysteriously fell on his head, Sam thought.
“Lose something?” he called up.
Sam picked up the socks and waved them out the window. “She didn’t like them.”
“Neither do I,” he said.
He pulled his moped back upright. Only now did Sam notice the massive anime collection sprawled across the sidewalk next to an overturned box.
“Sorry about that.”
“Huh?”
“Your cartoons,” she said pointing.
He looked down at the DVDs around his feet as if he had forgotten they were there. “Not a problem.”
He set the box right side up and started scooping up the DVDs.
Zoey leaned out the window. “I’m Zoey, by the way. This is Samantha.”
“Sam,” she corrected automatically.
“Howdy. I’m…,” he held up one finger. “Wait, I know this. Lucas. I’m Lucas.”
“Sure about that?” Zoey asked.
“Pretty sure.” He haphazardly crammed the DVDs into the box. More than once, a DVD fell out and he had to pick it up again.
“Lucas Horatio Fry, get a move on,” said a woman’s voice in a distinctly mom-ish way.
“See, I was right. Lucas.” He sat the full box on the back of his moped.
The girls couldn’t help but laugh.
A woman in her mid-forties, almost
certainly his mother, walked up to him, carrying a clothes hamper.
“Do you expect your father to carry everything himself?” she asked in an unpleasant tone. She looked from him up to the girls. “He’ll have to talk to you later. He’s in Hathaway Hall. Room 312.”
“Mom!”
“Now come on, we have a lot to move,” she said to Lucas.
Lucas hung his head in utter embarrassment. He hopped on his moped.
“Well, say goodbye,” his mother urged playfully.
“Goodbye, ladies,” he called up as he started his moped.
“’Ladies.’ Aren’t we the smooth talker?”
“Mother!”
Zoey snatched the socks away from Sam.
“Oh, I bet we never see him again.” She smiled as she tossed the socks into her dresser drawer.
“I am so glad my godparents left early. I guarantee they would find a way to embarrass me five times worse than that,” Sam said, heading back to her side of the room to keep unpacking. She distinctly remembered the time Helen dropped her off at her first boy/girl party and wouldn’t leave until she got all the other kids’ parents’ names and phone numbers in case something happened.
“So do you get along with the godparents well?”
Sam reached into her box and picked up her most valuable item in the world: Mr. Hopscotch. She sat him down on the bed where she could see him at all times, just in case Zoey decided to keep hurling things out the window.
“We get along fine. They were just in a hurry to get back to the airport. My godmother, Helen, is an anthropologist. When I decided to come to school here she called her old professor and got a job on a dig down in Peru. Harold, my godfather, designs bridges. He’s on his way to Australia. They both have flights out of LAX tonight,” Sam said.
“Super-neat,” Zoey said, folding up a pair of purple jeans.
“You wouldn’t think so if you had to ride all the way here from Illinois in a Ford Escort loaded with three people’s luggage.” Sam shuddered. There were few things on Earth as boring as driving across the vast flatness of Nebraska.
“Do you have a little brother?” Zoey asked.
Sam shook her head.
“Don’t complain to me about cross-country trips until you’ve spent thirteen hours in the back seat with a ten-year-old boy.” Zoey shivered dramatically. “The smells. I can’t even describe them.”
Sam had to chuckle at that. She had always wondered what it would be like to have a sibling. But somehow she never factored a smelly little brother into her fantasies.
“Fire in the hole! Fire in the hole!”
A tall blonde girl in overalls ran past their doorway shouting at the top of her lungs.
“Get down people!” she yelled from down the hall.
Three sparkling red bolts zipped past the door.
There was a great deal of yelling and banging from the hallway. Sam and Zoey rushed to the doorway.
Another red firework flew by. Someone’s mother shrieked as she flattened herself against the wall, barely getting out of the rocket’s path in time.
“Stellar,” Zoey said, her eyes widening with excitement.
Cheers and applause filled the hallway, followed quickly by loud, angry parental shouting. Most of the girls in the hall ducked back into their rooms to spare the firework launcher the humiliation of a public chewing out. Sam and Zoey went back to their unpacking.
“Until just now, I thought this place was going to be insanely boring,” Sam said.
“Hopefully we’ll get almost blown up every day,” Zoey agreed.
Looking around, Sam noticed that Zoey’s desk was just as empty as hers.
“You didn’t bring a computer?” she asked.
“Bah, computers are for morons,” Zoey said, tapping her right temple. “I got everything I need up here.”
Sam didn’t know how to respond to that.
“I’m kidding. I just couldn’t bring mine with me. I have to settle for one of the school’s loaners. You?”
“Same here,” Sam said. She opened her closet to find it surprisingly spacious for a dorm room. If she left her sweaters and other winter stuff in boxes under her bed, she would have enough room for all of her clothes.
Someone tapped on the doorframe.
“Knock, knock,” Tasha said. “How would you like to meet the ‘rents?”
Mr. Beaumont was a tall, muscular man who looked like he would be perfectly at home on a football field, except he had a wise, professorlike face. Mrs. Beaumont looked very much like an older version of Tasha. She was also tall, although not nearly as tall as Mr. Beaumont, and she had long, lean arms and legs. She had probably been a gymnast as a kid, just like Tasha.
“Mom, Dad, this is Zoey and Sam.”
“Hello,” Zoey said, extending her hand to shake each of theirs in turn.
“Hi.” Taking her cue from Zoey, Sam extended her hand as well.
“I expect you girls to keep my little Nat out of trouble, now,” Mr. Beaumont said, shaking Sam’s hand. He gave her a little nod and a smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Mrs. Beaumont added.
“Likewise,” Sam and Zoey said together.
“Jinx, you owe me a soda,” Zoey blurted quickly.
Mrs. Beaumont tapped her husband on the arm. “It looks like the other parents are heading out. We should give these girls some time to get settled in.”
“Goodbye, pumpkin.” Mr. Beaumont gave Tasha a quick hug, which she pretended to find annoying.
“Have fun, girls,” Mrs. Beaumont said with a wink as she and her husband stepped into the elevator.
Once the elevator doors closed, Tasha turned her questioning eyes on Sam and Zoey.
“So, what did you think of my parents?”
“They’re keepers,” Zoey said with an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
Sam nodded in agreement, trying to stick to the rules of Jinx, which meant that she was not allowed to speak again until she bought Zoey a soda. She hoped there was a vending machine nearby.
“Come on,” Tasha said, checking the time on her cell phone. “The RA is holding a meeting in three minutes.”
The three girls joined the others who were filing their way into the recreation lounge at the end of the hallway.
From the brochure Sam knew that each floor had its own Resident Advisor; a girl, or boy for the boys’ dorms, from the college who volunteered to live in the academy dorms to help students adjust to their new school, settle disputes between roommates, and generally just be a big sister or brother to the new students. It seemed like a lot of work to Sam, especially for someone who was taking college classes.
“Welcome, welcome,” a familiar voice beckoned. “I am your Resident Advisor, in case you hadn’t guessed. My name is Amy Rosenberg.”
Agent Rosenberg gave Sam a little wink before going on to explain to the girls the rules of the dorm and her personal hopes for the coming year.
Lucas’ arms hung lifelessly at his sides, clearly indicating that he was finished hugging, but his mother held on for several more seconds.
“Let the boy go,” his father said lovingly.
Lucas wiggled free of her loosening grip.
“You can call me any time, day or night,” his mom said, holding back tears.
“Gotcha,” Lucas said holding up his brand new cell phone.
“Tell your mysterious new roommate that we are sorry we missed him,” his mother said.
“I will.”
Lucas waved goodbye to his parents. His mother kept waving until his parents reached the parking lot. He dug out his key card and zipped inside the building. He hoped nobody saw him standing there waving to his mommy like a little kid.
She was right about his roommate being mysterious, though. According to his parents, his roommate had already moved in his stuff before they got there. Lucas had snooped around his new roommate’s belongings a bit for clues about his personality. He had a brand new extremely expensive comp
uter that could run circles around Lucas’ machine, a globe sat on his desk, and a map of the world hung over his bed labeled PLANET NATCH.
When Lucas finally got back up to his floor, the elevator doors opened to reveal a cheering crowd in the hallway.
“Kill him,” someone yelled. A chorus of voices agreed.
Lucas looked over a shorter boy’s shoulder to see what everyone was so excited about.
Two robots were locked in battle.
More specifically, a two-foot long mechanical scorpion was dueling with a miniature monster truck with a snapping dragon’s head in the front and a swinging wreaking ball for a tail. Judging by the way the side of the dragon’s head had been scarred and one of the scorpion’s claws had been crushed Lucas had missed some serious action.
The scorpion snapped its remaining working claw at the dragon’s studded rubber tires, causing the dragon to back away. When the scorpion charged forward, the dragon spun around quickly, striking the scorpion with its wreaking-ball tail. The ball crushed the scorpion’s already crushed claw even further.
But the scorpion had a tail of its own. A thick blue fluid shot out of the tail, covering half of the dragon, including the tail. The fluid weighed the ball down too much for the dragon to swing it anymore. As the fluid dried, it became sticky, slowing the dragon down.
“Watch it,” a tall boy in a football jersey shouted as the dragon backed up toward him.
As a whole the crowd had to keep moving around to make room for the dragon robot, which was running scared now. The dragon found itself pinned between the wall and a beanbag chair someone hadn’t put away yet. Cheers and laughter rose as the scorpion closed in for the final showdown.
The dragon wasn’t going down without a fight, though. It snapped its jaws at the approaching scorpion and caught its tail in mid-strike. The dragon began lashing back and forth, dragging the helpless scorpion around.
But just as it looked like the dragon was going to rip the scorpion’s tail off, its head erupted with the sticky blue fluid. The fluid rolled down the dragon’s neck shorting out the robot. The fight was over.
