“Hey there!” My name is Becca, I’ll be your RA this year. I’m so excited you decided to come to UCLA. We’re going to have so much fun!”

The chipper voice of the Junior scared me awake. I had a red-eye flight from Atlanta to LAX, and I had been up that whole night driving to the airport from my home in the mountains. Usually, I was a happy person, too, but right now I was just worried about moving into my room and sleeping or a week.

“Okie Dokie, you’re in room 381. Your roommate is Annabeth, she’s really sweet. She just checked in a few minutes before you.”

Great, she probably already picked the better bed. What if it was bunks? Then that means I’ll probably have the top and roll off every night because I move so much in my sleep.

“Here we go! Room 381, Annabeth Jason and Loralee Kiser. Here’s your room key, and if you need help carrying stuff just let me know!”

Becca, the RA, flitters away, I’m left in front of an opened door with my bag and a room key that I will lose at least twice this year, if not three times. Now or never, they always say.

When I first walk in, I’m quite surprised by the movie posters and game consoles just awaiting to be hooked up to the flat screen television that seems to be permanently placed on a desk. Annabeth, who I’m suspecting the girl to be, turns at the sound of me closing the door fully. She stares up at me, with her short height of about five-foot making me feel like a giant. There aren’t bunk beds, but instead, two extra-long twins on either side of the room with a dresser for each one acting as a bedside table. The desk that isn’t holding the television is empty, and I’m guessing its mine. In fact, Annabeth really did seem like a nice girl.

“Before we go any farther,” she starts off, standing straight and placing her hands on her hips, “don’t call me Annabeth, only my granny has ever called me that and she’s been dead for three years. I go by Laken, but Lake is an okay nickname.”

It was a very blunt first impression, but it would do. Annabeth – er, Laken continues.

“I’m allergic to just about every perfume there is out there, so please don’t spray it in here, ever. I’ll sneeze my head off for three hours straight, and don’t think I’m playing.”

I nod, glad that I don’t wear anything like perfume anyways.

“I take showers in the morning, so expect to hear my alarm go off early, since my first class is at eight.”

I nod again, trying to wrap my head about the quick spouts of information. She spoke quickly, with an obvious Californian accent.

“And my boyfriend lives on campus, so if we plan on doing anything, it’ll be in his dorm, so don’t worry about me bringing him back here if we want to fuck.”

The way she states it makes me blush. There goes the virgin in me.

“Well come on, speak! We’re going to be living with each other for a year and I need to figure out if it’s worth sleeping here every night or just to stay with Logan.”

I’m never shy in front of new people, but her voice overpowers mine and I don’t want to try and speak over the volume she has laid out – which is her own. Where I’m from, we speak in slow, soft voices, not that fast, loud language.

“Um, okay, uh, I’m Loralee, but you can call me Lori, if you want. I’m allergic to peanuts, but they only affect me if I eat them, and uh, I’m single.”

The blank expression on Laken’s face grows into a grin. I’m surprised by a sudden hug and her squealing in my ear.

“We’re going to be the best of friends!”

What have I gotten myself into?

Laken pulls away, and goes back to putting her things in the four drawers offered in the dresser. On top of the dresser she has a blue, rectangular looking clock with pretty gold hour and minute hands slowly circling around as time passes, and there’s a small wood jewelry box with her initials, A.L.J., craved in the front. Next to that was a stack of notebooks and packages of pens. There were a few empty cardboard boxes sitting at her feet half under the bed, but there were two others that were still full of things. I put my bag down on my bed, and look at what has been claimed as mine.

She's already split the room down the middle. There's one window, and it's quite large, being the middle point for what we can say is ours. There's a vanity already in our room, with two sinks attached, and I remember passing by the community bathroom while on my way down the hall.

I now regret not signing up for an apartment-style room.

But if my plan of joining enough clubs and being much more social than back at home I'd only come to my room to sleep. I hated studying in my room, it felt too closed in, and I was used to open spaces like cow pastures and apple orchards to study in.

"So where are you from?" Laken asks me, breaking down the box she had been pulling things from, dropping it to the floor, and pulled forward the next one. "Your accent gives you away, fyi."

I fiddled with my hands for a moment, and stared at my bare bed, before answering.

"The Georgia mountains."

"Shut up!" Laken gasped, and turned around quickly. "You came all the way from Georgia? That's over 2000 miles away! How do you deal with being away from your family?"

I looked away.

"My parents are in the military and always out of the country, so I lived with my grandma and grandpa. They loved me to death, but I couldn't wait to get out of there."

I see Laken nod from the corner of my eye. I was truthful - I hated Ellijay with a passion and was so excited when I got my acceptance letter from UCLA. I had gotten a few more from other schools, but California was farthest away and giving me the biggest scholarship; all I ended up paying for was housing and my meal plan.

"So, are you one of those freakishly smart kids that plan out the people's they hate deaths, or are you just this quiet naturely?" She started laughing at the look of horror on my face. "The look on your face, Lor! It's hilarious!" Laken shoves my shoulder, but I'm too appalled to answer, still.

The thought of killing someone has never entered my head before - well there was that one time when my algebra teacher ended up giving us three extra pages of problems to do for homework because he and his wife had gotten in a fight during lunch break...

"I'm joking with you, Lor. Loosen up a little, joke with me, or else I'm going to keep throwing them out at you!"

"Sorry," I mumble and look through my bag for my dinosaur of a flip-phone. "I'm not used to people talking like that."

"Oh dear lord, don't tell me you're one of those bible bangers because then we really aregoing to have a problem."

I shake my head quickly. "No, no, I mean I went to church but your beliefs are your own, I'm not going to try and force mine onto you."

Laken looks are me for a moment, almost as if she's thinking about what I said.

"You're a pretty cool chick, Lor, I like you."

It makes me smile. She turns back to her things and finishes unpacking that box. I then remember the rental car downstairs in the parking lot needing to be unpacked.

"If you need to, you can use the trolley I got to bring your things up here and I'll help you unpack since I'm done and it's going to take awhile for my xBox and PlayStation to hook back up to my TV."

I look over at the trolley, and it reminds me of those ones you see as a hotel. That's probably where the school got it from. As soon as I start to roll it from the room, the squeaking noise makes my ears almost bleed. I get to the elevator, only used for the next three days because of move in, and get as far as right outside of it on the first floor before I find a small grocery buggy and decide to just use that instead.

The clean, white sedan sits in the parking spot where I left it, growing warmer in the late morning sun, but there are many more surrounding it this time. In fact, there are at least ten families rushing to unpack their cars and say their goodbyes to their now-college children. Gram and Papa had to say goodbye to me this morning before I left for the airport, and the last time I Skype'd my parents was a week ago and it was for only five minutes at the most.

I pop open the trunk and back doors. First is the stack of pillows I brought, all bundled together, then the boxes of clothes I couldn't live without. I still had half a closet full back at home, but my bank account was bulging and ready to be spent on the California style of clothes. The heat here wasn't as humid and sticky as in Georgia, and it definitely didn't get cold enough to start snowing. I remember that a majority of my summer mornings I had to wear a pair of jeans, my boots, and a pullover so I wouldn't freeze as I went to scare of deer from the strawberry fields my Papa owned.

Here in Cali, I would probably be sweating in my sleep.

Next were the few small boxes of things that I wanted to decorate with, but most of the things I wanted I had ordered online and they were being sent to the mailbox that I had already set up. Only a few more days before they showed up.

After the buggy was full, and I still had two bags hanging off my shoulders, I locked the car back and began my trek up to the third floor of the freshmen dorms. They had a nice front lobby, and it would probably look even nicer if it weren't for the yelling parents and scared looking college kids. No more mommy and daddy to wash their clothes and cook them food and wake them up in time for class.

I never got that kind of treatment, other than the home-cooked meals from Gram, so I could handle myself.

The wait for the elevator was agonizing, since there were only a few students that had come as far as me, if not farther, that lived on the higher floors. It finally came down, and once the doors opened, and the blubbering mother ran out covering her tear-streaked face, I scooted my little buggy in and hit the button for the third floor. The doors were half way closed when a lean body slipped in right beside me. He was only slightly taller than me, with bright blonde hair and a nose piercing. I saw a tattoo peaking out from the collar of his black shirt.

"What floor?" I asked, trying not to sound surprised by his sudden appearance.

"Third," he replies, his voice surprisingly deep. I nod, and let the elevator start pulling us up. Once the doors open, he helps me out.

"Thanks." He nods in return. On the way down the hall to my room, he follows me, and it starts to creep me out since he's so close behind me. My room, 381, comes up and just as I'm trying to open the door, Laken opens it from the inside. She's talking on my phone.

"Here she is, Gram! That was a quick run, Lor, did you get everything?"

Oh god, Gram called me and I forgot to put my phone in my pocket.

"And it's Logan, too! Hey, baby, how are you?"

Laken hands my phone over to me and slips past to wrap her body around Logan's and exchange saliva. I turn away and push the cart into the room before putting the speaker to my ear.

"Hey, Gram," I greet, and hold the phone with my shoulder as I start taking things from the buggy.

"Hello, Lori, my sweet granbaby. How was your flight?"

"It was okay, I slept through most of it. No crying babies, thank god."

"That's good, that's good. Papa says hi."

I smile. "Tell him I love him."

"I will, I will," she pauses for a moment. "Well, I guess I'll let you go. Gotta get all that packin' done, yeah? You remember to call us ol' farts, ya hear? Don't forget about us."

I smile. "I won't, Gram. I love you."

"Love ya too, baby girl. Bye."

"Bye."

There's a click and the call has ended, with a small buzz sound telling me to close the phone. I do so, and take a few minutes to take in all that has happened. I'm on the opposite side of the country, with no mode of transportation after I take the rental back tomorrow and I don't know a single person except for Laken and the chipper RA, Becca.

"Hey, Lori!"

I turn, and watch as Laken walks in with her hand gripping Logan's like it's a tank of a life support. He has a slightly smug look on his face, but is obviously happy to see his girlfriend.

"Hope you brought your dancing boots because I'm taking you to your first west coast party!"