Page 27 of Freestyle
“I hope so. It feels weird not having her here right away,” I reply, folding a sweater and placing it in the drawer.
“Yeah, but she’s probably busy with her Remy. You know how she is.”
“True, but I can’t wait to see her. It’s been too long.”
Instead of finishing, I plop down on Lyndsy’s bed and watch her hang clothes in the closet, the familiar scent of her lavender fabric softener filling the air.
“Hey, do you think we’ll have any cute guys in our classes this semester?” she asks, a playful grin spreading across her face, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
I laugh, shaking my head. “Always thinking about boys, huh?”
“Can you blame me? It’s college! We’re supposed to have fun!”
“True, but I’m more focused on getting through my classes this year.”
Just then, a knock on the door interrupts our banter. I exchange a glance with Lyndsy before walking over to open it.
Standing in the doorway is a shorter girl with long black hair and bright, curious eyes.
““Hey,” I say, stepping aside. “I’m Rowyn. You must be our new roommate.”
“I’m Rebekah,” she replies, her genuine smile warming the small space. “Nice to meet you!”
“I’m Lyndsy,” she chimes in from behind me. I move aside so she can step in and shake Rebekah’s hand.
“Are you both sophomores?” Rebekah asks as she takes in our surroundings.
“Yes!” we answer in unison.
“I’m a junior,” she states, and I can’t help but blink in surprise.
“What?” I exclaim, my mouth dropping open.
She laughs, a sound that dances in the air. “Did you expect a senior?”
I shake my head, still trying to process it. “No, I just... you seem so young!”
Her laughterdeepens. “I skipped a year of high school. I’m not a genius or anything—just got lucky,” she shrugs, radiating confidence. “So, what year did you start?”
“Last year. We roomed together with another girl, and that’s how we all met,” I explain, feeling a sense of camaraderie forming.
“What are you two majoring in?” Rebekah asks.
Lyndsy answers first, her voice bright. “Business management. What about you?”
“I’m majoring in Music Therapy,” Rebekah replies, her eyes lighting up with passion.
I whistle, impressed. “That sounds like a lot of fun!”
She grins wide, her enthusiasm infectious. “It is, but it’s a lot of work.”
“I can imagine,” I agree.
“This is my first year here. I’m a transfer student, and I’m kinda nervous,” Rebekah admits, her gaze dropping.
I nod knowingly. “I get that. Moving is never easy.”
“Do you have your books yet?” Rebekah asks, glancing over Lyndsy’s belongings and then back at me, curiosity dancing in her eyes.
