"We're here!" Mom squealed as the car rolled beneath the stone archway and into campus.
The sight hit me harder than I expected. The campus looked like something out of a movie—old stone buildings that radiated history, wide lawns filled with people hugging, crying, or dragging boxes toward dorms. Clusters of freshmen sported NYU hoodies like uniforms, while a few wandered aimlessly, maps and nerves written all over their faces. The size of it all pressed against me, overwhelming and thrilling at the same time.
Orientation blurred past in a haze—signatures, polite smiles, a dorm key pressed into my hand by a cheerful woman. And then came freedom. A strange, terrifying freedom.
"I want to see your dorm before I go, honey," Mom insisted, her voice trembling with a cocktail of pride and devastation. "My only daughter… all grown up, living on her own." She dabbed carefully at her eyes, mindful of her makeup.
Uncle Chris and Jenna trailed behind us with my bags. Mom's heels clacked against the floor with sharp impatience as I read the numbers on the doors.
"It's B22, down this hall," I told them, spotting the big painted "B" on the wall.
By the time we reached the door, Mom was huffing like she'd run a marathon. I slid the key into the lock, the wood creaked open, and her gasp filled the hallway.
One half of the tiny dorm was neat and bare. The other? A wall of band posters with faces inked and pierced beyond recognition. Clothes were tossed on the bed where a girl with blazing golden hair lounged, eyeliner as thick as armor, tattoos curling down both arms like vines.
"Hey," she said with an easy smile, propping herself up on her elbows. "I'm Cassie."
"Uh… hi. I'm Aria." My voice cracked, every ounce of social grace abandoning me.
Her grin widened. "Welcome to NYU—tiny rooms, huge parties." She tipped her head back and laughed. Mom's jaw practically hit the floor, while Jenna shifted awkwardly and Uncle Chris pretended not to stare.
Cassie slid off the bed and hugged me—tight, sudden, disarming. I stiffened before returning it, confused but strangely warmed by her boldness.
A knock interrupted us. The door swung open before I could respond, and two boys stepped inside like they owned the place.
Mom's face drained of color. Boys in the girls' dorm. On day one. I could practically see her soul leaving her body.
The blonde one smiled, tattoos peeking from under his sleeves. "You must be Cassie's new roomie. I'm Nic." His tone was friendly, his hand brushing my shoulder. "Don't look so tense—you'll love it here."
Before I could answer, Cassie was already grabbing a shiny red bag. "Alright, I'm ready, let's go."
That's when I noticed the second boy. Taller, leaner, his wavy brown hair shoved back carelessly. A lip ring glinted against his smirk. His grey t-shirt clung to him, arms covered in ink with no patch of bare skin. He didn't introduce himself, didn't even bother to look at me for long. Just rolled his eyes, pulled out his phone, and leaned against the door like he owned gravity itself.
My chest tightened. Who was this guy?
"See you around, Aria," Nic called, and then the three of them vanished down the hall.
The door clicked shut. Silence.
"Absolutely not," Mom exploded. "You are not staying here. We are switching your dorm immediately."
"Mom—"
"No. I will not have you living with some tattooed delinquent who drags men into her room on the first day. What kind of—"
"Please." My voice cracked as I looked at her, then at Uncle Chris, silently begging for backup. "Just… let's see how it goes. Please."
She stared at me for a long, tense moment, eyes scanning Cassie's messy half of the room. Her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Fine," she snapped at last, clearly unconvinced.
I exhaled shakily, relief and dread tangling in my chest.
This was only day one.