Page 2 of Beyond the Lines
“Yeah, that’s me,” he says, trying to pull off being nonchalant and not quite succeeding. “Listen, we’ve still got boxes in the car?—”
“I’ll help!” Em practically teleports to the door. “I’m really strong. Like, surprisingly strong.Dancerstrong. My Dadalsosays it’s because I have too much energy and it has to go somewhere. He also says I talk too much when I’m excited. Which Itotallyam right now. Am I talking too much?”
“Yes,” Mike says, at the same time as I say, “Not at all.”
We spend the next hour hauling boxes up to the third floor. Em wasn’t kidding about being strong—she carries my mini-fridge by herself, chattering the entire time about how her cousin Louis (not to be confused with her other cousin Léon) once dropped one on his foot and had to wear a boot cast to his sister’s wedding.
By the time we finish, I know her entire family tree and amusing anecdotes about most of the members of it. I’ve also figured out that living with Em will be a storm of conversation during all waking hours, with only small pauses permitted for food, water, breathing, and sleeping.
But hey, we’re done.
And I’min.
College.
“Want help unpacking?” Mike asks, checking his watch, clearly not as excited as I am about the milestone.
I glance at the pile of boxes and almost accept his offer, but I can see Em practically vibrating with the need to properly meet her new roommate.
“Nah, I’m good,” I say to Mike. “But we’re on for bagels tomorrow morning?”
“At eight,” he confirms. “Don’t be late.”
“When am I ever late?”
“You really want me to answer that?”
I shove him toward the door. “Goodbye,Michael.”
“Bye,Leanndra.” He ducks the pen I throw at his head. “Nice to meet you, Em.”
“Nice meeting you too!” Em calls after him. The moment he’s gone, she spins to face me. “So. Tell meeverythingabout yourself. Where are you from? What’s your major? Do you like Taylor Swift? What’s your zodiac sign? Do you believe in zodiac signs? I’m a Gemini, whichtotallyexplains the talking thing?—”
I hold up my hands, laughing. “Whoa, one at a time! Let me at least sit down! And why don’t you start?”
“Right! Sitting! Yes! Me!” She plops cross-legged onto her bed, which is already made up with a riot of colorful pillows. “I’m a freshman, although I’m already twenty, because I took a few years off. I’m from Boston. Well, technically Brookline, but nobody knows where that is, so I just say Boston.”
She takes a breath. “And I have ADHD, which?—”
“Explains the talking thing?” I suggest, grinning as I perch on my mattress.
She beams. “Exactly! Your turn!”
“OK, well, I’m Lea?—”
“I thought your brother called you Leanndra?”
“Only when he’s being annoying. Which is always.” I lean back on my hands. “I’m from New Jersey. I’m nineteen, also a freshman, majoring in Fine Arts.”
“Ooh, an artist!” Em claps her hands. “I’m doing dance and elementary education, which means I might hit you with a stray high kick. Fair warning.”
“Noted,” I laugh.
“What’s your medium?”
“Mixed media, mostly. But I love drawing and painting.” I gesture at one of the boxes. “I’ve got some of my stuff in there somewhere.”
“Show me!” She bounces on her bed.
