There’s something simultaneously exciting and nerve-wracking about starting college, as with all new major life events, but when mixed with the annoyance of having to heave two backpacks and three luggage bags onto public transit because your parents decided to leave to Hawaii the day you fly across the country for move in, the ambiguity amplifies tenfold.

            As is the case for new college freshman Kang Seulgi.

            Lugging her wheeled suitcases onto the commuter rail, backpacks slung both front and back, Seulgi curses the overly happy faces of her parents imprinted in her memory. Aren’t parents supposed to be super clingy and nostalgic when children leave for college? Especially Asian ones. Empty nest syndrome and all, just like that one Pixar short.

            And yet here she is, moving in alone with only three hours before the registration booths for freshman close and she has to hike to some random building to get her dorm keys and student ID.

            She manages to get to campus on time, but she’ll never forget the pitiful looks of the people on the commuter rail. It’s a rather appropriate reaction, Seulgi reasons, but it gets a little burdensome when forty minutes into the ride, a random white lady asks if your family is overseas.

            No, Seulgi says. I’m from California.

            The conversation ends at that.

            By the time Seulgi arrives at the table where they’re handing out the keys and IDs, along with a really crappy pair of sunglasses with the university logo and an equally crappy water bottle (also with the university logo), the volunteers seem to be half-dead from dealing with neurotic parents and hyper seventeen and eighteen-year-olds all day. The girl who hands Seulgi her stuff barely even acknowledges her as she tosses the last envelope her way without even checking to see if it’s Seulgi’s.

            Kang Seulgi, RV dorm, Rm 312, it reads. At least the dorm seems to be nearby, based on the tiny map Seulgi gets.

            She’s still struggling with her stuff, so the elevator that appears in front of her upon swiping into her dorm building comes as a great relief to Seulgi. And she’d be ecstatic about not having to use the stairs after a long day of school if it weren’t for the fact that as soon as she steps into the elevator and presses the third floor button, the elevator starts screaming and the doors bang shut.

            Oh .

            Seulgi tries clicking on the open door button to no avail. The elevator is still beeping at a decibel to rival her dad’s sneezes, and she can’t pry the door open, something she realizes she shouldn’t be attempting only three minutes into her panic. Pressing on the emergency button in a more rational approach to escaping the death contraption, Seulgi tries to speak over the loud noise only for a voice in the back of her mind to tell her that she doesn’t even know who she’s talking to. Really, who is she addressing?

            Five minutes later, she’s close to crying—she didn’t think she’d die in a screaming elevator only twenty minutes after stepping foot on the college campus she spent years preparing to get into—but she hears someone talking outside the doors over the mechanical wailing. There’s hope. Quickly blinking away her tears, Seulgi bangs on the doors, danger be damned, praying fervently that the person will hear her. Lo and behold, the doors are pried open and she sees a confused-looking Asian man with an impressive moustache. Her saviour. Seulgi feels tears spring to her eyes and she’s about to collapse on the ground sobbing, but someone peeks out from behind and it makes her stop in her tracks.

            Holy . She’s so pretty.

            Seulgi’s knees literally stop moving halfway down her descent to the floor, so she’s awkwardly squatting in front of this moustache man and the small girl behind him. Like she’s feeling constipated in the elevator or something. Jesus ing Christ.

            “Hey, um…” the pretty girl moves completely in front of the man. She’s got a slight accent. “You okay?”

            Seulgi blinks.

            “Heard you screaming in there so I called my dad to help.” The girl nervously glances at the moustache man, whom Seulgi now realizes is the girl’s dad. “Hope we weren’t too late.”

            Seulgi blinks again.

            “Oh no,” the girl’s dad says in Korean, moustache covering the movement of his upper lip. “I think she might have gone into shock. Should I call an ambulance?”

            “Wait, no,” the girl replies in Korean. “Let’s get her out of there first.”

            “I…”

            Both saviours whip their head towards Seulgi.

            “Yes? Are you okay? Do you need help getting out?”

            Seulgi blinks. Again. “I live on the third floor.”

            And that’s how she meets Bae Joohyun.

-------

            The RV dorm has roughly a hundred kids, separated into four floors, and there’s two RAs managing the two freshman blocks the building is split into—first and second managed by a sophomore named Tiffany and the third and fourth managed by another sophomore named Taeyeon. The former is a super peppy, super nice California girl with a disgusting affinity for pink (her residents soon discover upon seeing the giant pink letters with their names on their doors, peppered with pink hearts and stars); the latter is...unpredictable.

            Upon stepping out of the staircase onto the third floor, courtesy of Joohyun’s dad carrying some of Seulgi’s stuff for her, Seulgi is met with more screaming. Human this time. It’s Taeyeon, her RA, she soon finds out. That’s how she welcomes all her kids.

            “You must be Seulgi!” She’s wearing a T-Rex costume. “We’ve been waiting for you!”

            Seulgi wonders if it’s too early to transfer schools now.

            “Hurry, go get the skateboard!”

            The crazed-looking kids behind Taeyeon don’t make things any better. Seulgi blankly stares as some huge, buff kid cruises by on the aforementioned skateboard, juggling doughnuts. Oh lord.

            “Alright, alright, guys!” Taeyeon laughs, as if she isn’t being as chaotic as her residents. “Let’s let Seulgi settle in first, okay?”

            Seulgi has to wrestle her way to her room though, because they’re all surrounding her with greetings and it’s a bit suffocating.

            Thankfully her roommate, a girl named Wendy who has lived in three different countries including the US, seems a bit less prone to theatrical welcomes, and for that, Seulgi is very glad. Of course she had texted Wendy briefly beforehand, immediately after getting her roommate and dorm assignment (although Wendy had sent a confusingly formal email at the same time Seulgi was DMing her a very casual ‘haha what’s up roomie’ on Twitter), and the girl seemed nice enough. Seeing her smiling face and the clean set up on her side of the room reaffirms Seulgi’s initial thoughts that she has hit the jackpot with her roommate.

            “Hey, Seulgi right?” Wendy sticks out a hand brightly and wiggles her eyebrows. “We finally meet in person.”

            “Yeah, haha.” Seulgi takes the smaller girl’s hand. “Nice to see someone not screaming at me or rescuing me for a change.”

            “Do I want to ask what happened?”

            “I got stuck in the elevator.”

            “Oh that.” Wendy laughs. “Taeyeon told us that happens often, and this building is infamous for the elevator breaking down with the overload on move in day. We actually heard the elevator beeping from up here.”

            “Jesus Christ.” Seulgi lets go of Wendy’s hand and exhales heavily. “No one thought to put up a sign?”

            “It’s like an initiation thing. For a select few.”

            “Well, lucky me, I guess.”

            Yanking her stuff along to the other side of the room, Seulgi nearly sobs at how low her mattress is set on her bedpost. That means she’ll have to adjust it for more vertical space, and she’s not sure if she has the mental (or physical) capacity to do that right now. Thankfully, the angel she’s rooming with offers help, and the two end up jumping up and down on the frame to get the mattress base dislocated from the bedposts. It’s a workout, and Wendy’s cheerful questioning doesn’t make things easier for Seulgi.

            “So...oh gosh...who got you...oh, careful!...out of the...elevator?”

            Seulgi narrowly misses falling face flat when one corner loosens up and launches her downwards. Her foot is sacrificed in the process; it’ll leave a huge bruise by tomorrow.

            “Oh Jesus, ing, ow, I swear to—”

            “You okay? Oh god—”

            “I swear, if one more—”

            “Hey, let me see,” Wendy interrupts. “Gotta ice it and check for swelling.”

            Seulgi sighs, trying to mask the pain so as to not seem like a wimp in front of her new roommate, but allows Wendy to get an ice pack for her, courtesy of Taeyeon. Her foot is already double its size; there’s no way she’ll be able to do orientation stuff with her foot this swollen.

            “Good thing the Freshmen Olympics aren’t until next week,” Wendy comments, readjusting Seulgi’s bedframe alone now. She has one of the frames propped up against the wall as she notches the base back on. “This week is mostly walking to the building one block over for all the awareness stuff.”

            Seulgi isn’t sure whether to be glad she won’t have to do much walking or horrified that she’ll have to sit through hours of the RAs doing presentations on drinking responsibly and whatnot. They already had to do online trainings, so at this point, it’s a little overkill. She won’t be drinking anyway—would it really hurt for her to miss out?

            She isn’t even given the opportunity to wonder, however, because Taeyeon knocks on all of their doors and drags them over to the auditorium in EXO Hall (short for Ethan Xavier Oberman: some random white guy from the 1800s who donated a ton of money to fund the building) for the awareness discussions. The first day is about microaggressions and bystander intervention. Seulgi’s mind flashes back to the random white lady on the commuter rail.

            After two grueling hours spent in a tiny chair with a folding desk, Seulgi finally leaves the auditorium to grab lunch with Wendy. The girl is pretty damn sociable, and she’s already roped in two others living on their floor to sit with them.

            Joy and Yeri aren’t roommates, but both being from Massachusetts, they hit it off pretty quickly. And Wendy, good ole Wendy, she went around saying hi to every single resident in the building, even on the first two floors where the kids were in a different block. Met third floor residents Joy and Yeri on the second floor in the midst of doing the same.

            “So, Seulgi…” Seulgi waits for Joy to finish swallowing the fried chicken in . “You said you’re from California?”

            “Yeah, SoCal.”

            “Woooow. You guys actually say SoCal.”

            “I mean...it’s shorter than Southern California.”

            “I thought you’d have an accent or something.”

            Seulgi puts down her spoonful of soup and stares. “Accent?”

            “Yeah, like. Surfer slang.”

            “I don’t surf though.”

            “Do you say stuff like ‘bro,’ ‘dude,’ and ‘yo?’”

            “I guess?”

            Wendy snorts. “I think that’s just a millennial slash Gen Z thing though.”

            “Who uses ‘yo’ nowadays,” Yeri sneers. “It’s ‘bruh’ or bust.”

            “Well, don’t we have a slang expert in the house. Who even uses ‘or bust’ anymore?”

            Seulgi feels her head hurting. “What other events did you guys say you were going to later?”

            There’s a slight humming sound as Wendy pulls out her phone, where a calendar meticulously lists all the social events going on. “There’s a glow-in-the-dark bouncy house on the Central Campus Green at ten pm and an ice cream eating contest after dinner.” She peers somewhere under the table. “Will you be coming? Your foot seems to be healing pretty fast.”

            “I’m gonna skip out on today. Head hurts.”

            “Didn’t know your pain liked to migrate through your body.”

            Seulgi gives Yeri a pointed look. “Eat dirt and die.”

            “Hey, we just met. You need to experience more of my fabulousness before I go.”

            There’s a nagging feeling at the back of her mind that tells Seulgi she’ll probably be seeing Joy and Yeri more often than as just floormates, and she thinks Wendy’s amused smile has something to do with it.

-------

            “Hey, is this spot taken?”

            Seulgi looks up to see the pretty girl from a week ago pointing at the empty seat next to her. She mindlessly nods.

            “I, uh, your name was…”

            “Irene.” The girl smiles and Seulgi isn’t sure why it makes her want to smile too. “I know my dad called me Joohyun when we first met, but that’s my Korean name.”

            “Uh-huh.” Very typical, Seulgi thinks amidst the haziness of her mind. A Korean kid getting an Anglicized name. “I’m Seulgi.”

            “Yeah, I know. I heard Taeyeon screaming your name really loudly after you said bye to us. And I don’t mean that in a dirty way.”

            “Yeah, um…” Seulgi blinks a few times, trying to clear her head. “I know we didn’t meet in the most normal circumstances, but—”

            “No worries,” Irene says, laughing. “You’re not the first one to have gotten stuck on that elevator. I think one of the guys got stuck too around noon. Taeyeon had to get him out.”

            Seulgi nods wordlessly, not feeling any better about having been found in a state of blubbering panic.

            “So, I think it’s safe to say you’re also Korean, right?” Irene tilts her head to get a better look at Seulgi and blinks a few times. “Or at least part Korean. Based on your name.”

            “Right.” Seulgi breaks eye contact with Irene; the girl has a knack for staring really intensely during conversation. “I’m Korean American.”

            “Where are you from? I don’t know many states except California, Florida, and of course where we are.”

            “I’m from California actually.”

            Irene hums. “And here I thought I would be able to learn a new state. Do you speak Korean?”

            Seulgi blinks at the sudden change in topic. “Uh, a bit? I translate things for my mom sometimes.”

            But she supposes that’s a universal experience for many Asian Americans. The whole dealing with calls from the IRS at the ripe old age of twelve and sloppily translating the spat between an angry parent and the clearly overworked manager at the supermarket. Oh well.

            The presentation on the school’s mission statement and unique interdisciplinary curriculum starts then, so the discussion ends there. Seulgi finds herself dozing off a few times, until the dean conducting the meeting starts calling on people to share stories about when they thought the collaboration between STEM and the humanities was important. She couldn’t care less; but alas, when no one volunteers, those evil adults start picking at random with a cheery smile on their face.

            “You near the aisle!” The dean waves after making eye contact with Seulgi, who desperately averts her gaze. “Hey, no, yeah you! With the yellow hoodie.”

            Despite knowing that yellow hoodies aren’t a common fashion item, Seulgi makes the exaggerated notion of looking at all the people around her before looking down at her clothes. Damn. He caught her.

            She looks up sheepishly and gives a finger wave much to Irene’s amusement. The Korean international lightly pats Seulgi’s arm in encouragement, and for a moment, Seulgi loses all motor function at the friendly touch. For no absolute reason. Her fingers freeze mid-wave as she panics over why a simple pat would make her lose her mind, but she eventually gains control over herself and puts her hand down. Maybe it’s just because she’s not used to physical affection.

            “Can I get your name, dear?”

            Seulgi clears and yells back. “Seulgi!”

            “Sool-jee?”

            Ah, gotta love having a non-English name. “Seul! Gi!”

            The poor dude looks like he’s really trying, so Seulgi gives him some pity points, given that the auditorium is ing gigantic. “Sool…” He mumbles the last part so incoherently that Seulgi isn’t even able to tell if he went with the hard or soft ‘g.’ The dean quickly perks up again, having completed the difficult task of learning the name of a student he’ll probably never talk to in the future (Seulgi wonders if he’s regretting his life choices) and continues on. “So tell me...when’s an instance you had to utilize both STEM and humanities?”

            Being a pure fine arts person, Seulgi is sure that she’s never had to use much STEM, but there’s pressure for her to give a model answer lest she out herself as absolutely useless at anything remotely nerdy, and she feels kind of bad for the dean, who’s sweating so much that she can see the dark stains under the arms of his bright blue button-down shirt. Fake it ‘til you make it. Seulgi decides to just bull her way through, since these kids won’t even remember her anyway.

            “Uh, when I draw, I have to measure angles. Especially for faces. Like in geometry.” Seulgi shifts her eyes about, wondering if that’s enough. “Yeah.”

            The dean nods enthusiastically, probably thinking about how to drag out the material. “That’s...great! And, well, do you...have you had any other instances like that?”

            “When I mix colours, I know it’s probably some sort of chemical reaction.”

            He’s dabbing at his forehead, which gleans with sweat under the harsh stage lights. “Mmhmm. And? Anything more proactively interdisciplinary?”

            “Sometimes I’ll swirl my Froot Loops in my milk so the colour changes.”

            “I see.” He nods, eyes blank. Probably also wishing the presentation would end. “Any other people who want to speak about their own experiences?”

            Seulgi sighs and relaxes in her seat again. She has totally forgotten about Irene, but she’s re-alerted to the girl’s presence when Irene pats her arm again.

            “Good job,” she whispers, giggling softly. “I think you flustered him a bit, but it wouldn’t be any fun if he was stereotypically suave like any other school admin, right?”

            Seulgi nods along mindlessly. “Mmhmm.”

            “How long do you think it’ll last? Any chances of them letting us out early?”

            Seulgi turns to blink at Irene. “Schedule said hour and a half.” And she’s got no clue on early releases either, because she’s as much a new student as Irene is.

            Irene sighs. “I kind of want to sleep.”

            “Then sleep.” Seulgi furrows her eyebrows. “I doubt he’ll keep calling on people after all the awkwardness he got from me.”

            Irene seems to agree, humming and nodding. She jerks her chin at Seulgi. “Mind if I borrow your shoulder?”

            “Huh?”

            “Seats aren’t too comfortable. Hope you don’t mind if I lean on you while I sleep.”

            “I...uh.” Seulgi coughs slightly. “Sure?” she says, voice pitching up unintentionally. “Do I...do I need to slouch down in my seat, or…”

            “No you’re fine. Thanks.” Irene leans over and places her head on Seulgi’s rigid shoulder. Her head smells like lavender shampoo. “Your hoodie is so soft. Where’d you get it?”

            “Uh, online? Can’t remember.”

            “Hmm.” Irene yawns. “Wake me up if you’re uncomfortable, okay? I’m just feeling a little jetlagged still.”

            Seulgi agrees, but she remains unmoving for the next sixty-three minutes despite the cramp in her arm, determined to let her new friend get a restful sleep.

-------

            One thing that Seulgi realizes sets college apart from high school is the almost scary rate at which the kids open up to each other. It’s two days before registration opens for the freshmen, and half of the third floor residents plus Irene are mingling in the third floor lounge, some people hanging out by the fireplace, others draped over the couches, a select few drawing rudimentary figures on the whiteboards with dried-out markers.

            Despite the diversity of residents on the third floor (Seulgi can’t be sure about the makeup of the fourth floor because they rarely interact within the block), Seulgi notices that there is an unusually high volume of Asian students living with her. And they too are all so different: there are students from other states and countries and of various personalities who Seulgi clicks relatively well with. Given that they had only known each other for one and a half weeks max.

            “Hey, can you scoot over just a bit?” Seulgi glances sideways to see Rowoon, a six foot three football jock with an affinity for coming up with the craziest entrepreneurial ideas out of thin air. For a jock, he’s pretty friendly, almost playful, and Seulgi has had some interesting conversations with him. Most notably, during their first meeting, he straight up asked her if she was the one who had ‘the huge collection of duct tape.’ Seulgi did not.

            Moving closer to Wendy to allow Rowoon to pull his chair up to the lounge table, Seulgi nods her head in greeting. The giant (there isn’t a single person on the floor who didn’t have to crane their neck upwards to look at him) grins before knocking on the table.

            “Wanna hear something I thought of while I was in the shower?”

            It’d be rude to say no, so Seulgi nods reluctantly.

            “Awesome.” Rowoon crosses his arms and legs, leaning back in a grandiose gesture meant to induce anticipation. Seulgi just wants to return to her conversation with Wendy and Joy about the very sketchy early admissions process of their school when it comes to recruiting athletes, but Rowoon is looking really expectantly at her, so she just faces his way, mind only half listening to what he’s saying.

            “...Now, I know there’s many dating apps out there, but imagine one just for people who have verified university emails. It’d be easier to track down all the sketchy motherers, and…”

            “...I heard that a third of early applicants are actually athletes, so I’m wondering what the point is in making them apply; aren’t they going to get in anyway? Really misleading statistics…”

            “...And so I think that it’d also be easier to work with Title IX offices if anything happens during meetings that take place through the app…”

            “...Wait, Wendy, were you a regular admit? ‘Cuz I was recruited…”

            “...But the only problem is, I think there might be a limitation to all the hot girls who aren’t in college, so I was like, what if we also expand the range to include people with an email under a company’s domain? Don’t you think…”

            “...So are you telling me that none of you decided to go through with sports after high school? Isn’t that a waste of those four years? Or am I the stupid one?...”

            “...But then I’m also thinking, what about all the hot single moms out there? Or dads. I don’t judge. How would we get them in our system if we don’t accommodate for non-verifiable emails?...”

            “...Oh my gosh, that’s so cool. Because I know Seulgi told me she also played volleyball, so that makes four of us volleyball players. Irene, did you play any sports back in Korea?...”

            “...I’m realizing that maybe I should just make a dating app, but now I don’t know where to start so that it stands out from the other ones…”

            Seulgi blinks, noticing that she’s losing track of both conversations happening around her. Frankly, it isn’t too overwhelming, but she really wants to get back to knowing what sport Irene played instead of watching Rowoon have a sad realization about the banality of his ‘innovative’ idea. So much for being nice enough to listen; Seulgi had just wasted a good ten minutes of her life.

            “Lemme go ask my roommate what he thinks, and I’ll get back to you about my revisions.”

            Seulgi nods, relieved that Rowoon is finally leaving her alone (don’t get her wrong, he’s a nice kid), and turns to rejoin her original conversation. Except she’s already missed the part about Irene.

            “...That’s awesome! So do you do like cool flips and ?”

            Seulgi tilts her head, leaning slightly onto the table to peek from behind Wendy. “Who does cool flips and ?”

            Wendy turns around to look at Seulgi before pulling a little bit away from the table to let Seulgi see. “Irene was a gymnast growing up, so apparently she’s really flexible and can do a split against a wall.”

            “Split against a wall?!”

            The five girls in the conversation jump in surprise at the newcomer’s voice. Taeyeon grins maniacally, pointing at Irene.

            “You can do a split against a wall?”

            Irene nods timidly.

            “Oh my gosh, you should totally show us.”

            Seulgi and Wendy eye each other skeptically as Irene fiddles with her fingers, unsure of whether Taeyeon is being serious or not. But her wide smile isn’t going away, and Joy and Yeri have joined too, silently egging Irene on. Irene sighs and gets up from her chair.

            “We should probably do it in the hallway though, because the wall isn’t completely flat in here.”

            Taeyeon, Joy, and Yeri cheer as they follow Irene out into the hall. The girl leans over to stretch her legs; Seulgi is impressed at how she pretty much folds in half when stretching out her hamstrings, because anytime Seulgi tries to touch her toes, she ends up losing balance and falling over the moment her fingers go too far down her shins.

            Wendy tells her that she should be grateful that she can use long legs as an excuse. Wendy isn’t as fortunate, apparently.

            “I haven’t really done much gymnastics since I was in middle school, so it might not be perfect,” Irene says, experimentally reaching one leg up the wall. She takes in a deep breath before inching forward. She pauses, seeming to think of something, then takes her leg back down. “Actually, let me do it facing backwards. I think I might be able to do it. No promises though.”

            And she proceeds to execute some sort of standing split with perfect form, making all five girls’ jaws drop in amazement.

            “Holy , Irene! My groins hurt looking at you!”

            “I should’ve been a gymnast instead, that’s ing cool.”

            “Joy, you wouldn’t be able to pull it off; you don’t even like to stretch in the morning.”

            “How would you know what I like to do in the morning?”

            “Hannah tells me everything, okay? She said you just jump out of bed at five to go to practice, like you’re some sort of cyborg or something.”

            Taeyeon, seeming to remember that she’s technically the authority, hushes them. “Alright y’all, shut up. I wanna try now.”

            So much for authority.

            They spend the next twenty minutes taking turns attempting to pull off Irene’s feat (and failing miserably). Seulgi swears that her entire lower body is on fire, and from the regret painting Wendy and Joy’s faces, they’re feeling the same way. Miraculously, Yeri accomplishes the split with somewhat decent form, while Taeyeon gives up halfway through, muttering something about old age. As if she isn’t only a year older than them.

            Somewhere along their process of struggles, a few others join them. Ten, whose entire personality consists of being EMT-certified and training to be a paramedic, wiggles his eyebrows before pulling an Irene. He’s even better though, because he flexes his fingers under his chin with a lazy smile, like he isn’t torturing his legs and hips.

            Seulgi wishes she were him. Minus the whole ‘today I met (insert description of traumatized patient here) while on shift and ended up having to (insert mildly disturbing medical procedure here)’ part of his life. There’s a good reason she didn’t decide on doing pre-med.

            “Broooooooo!” Taeyeon starts taking pictures of Ten. “Does it not hurt down there?”

            Ten shrugs, still in the split. “What even is pain? I’m numb to it all.”

            No Sherlock, Seulgi thinks. They survived high school.

            “Yo, D.O. and I are going to grab dinner,” says Yunho, a really friendly dude who gives off big time protective older brother vibes. D.O., a quiet dude majoring in CS, is pretty much his adopted son at this point because Yunho takes him everywhere. Seulgi is just amazed that he hasn’t questioned the very early 2000s rapper name the guy has claimed for himself, but she’s not going to be the one to ask why he uses it. “The eatery downstairs is serving tacos today.”

            “I wanna join!” says Henry, another international. He’s lowkey a show-off, but he’s intelligent as and pretty sociable. Although Seulgi must admit that she’s a little weirded out at the way he randomly sniffs the air around him, like he’s a dog or something.

            “Cool! It’s still pretty early, so I don’t think there’ll be a line. Have to hurry though, because it was insane fifteen minutes after opening yesterday.”

            The girls minus Taeyeon end up tagging along, but the groups naturally separate when they’re in line. Joy and Yeri are busy fangirling over some k-drama character, which Seulgi can’t relate to, mostly because she doesn’t watch much other than YouTube. Oh well.

            “So, Irene,” Wendy starts, putting away her phone after checking the events for the day. “Tell us a bit about Korea! I’ve lived in a few different places, but I haven’t been there before yet.”

            Irene glances at their proximity to the front of the line before speaking. “It’s nice, I guess. I haven’t lived here in the US long enough to provide an accurate comparison, but I’d say it’s relatively safe, and there’s many places to visit.”

            “I heard the education system is hell over there.”

            “Yeah, it’s pretty bad. But again, I’m not really sure how things are here, so.”

            Wendy nods. “Do you miss Korea?”

            “Not yet, to be honest. I think I’m riding off the high of being overseas at my dream college, so I’m still in my US honeymoon phase.”

            “That’s a funny way to put it. Honeymoon phase.”

            They soon reach the front of the line, so Irene just smiles quickly and turns around to order. It’s your typical make-your-own college meal, so she’s moving down the line as she picks out her toppings. The others quickly follow, quite amazed at the quality of the food. Seulgi hopes it stays that way throughout the year.

            “I heard California tacos are really good,” Yeri says as they take their food and get back into the RV dorm elevator to eat in their lounge (the elevator is a lot better about not screaming anymore). “Please confirm.”

            Seulgi shrugs, making sure not to accidentally knock over her tacos and drink. The lidless beverage dribbles a bit over the edge. “I’ve only ever been to California and here, so I wouldn’t know. But yes, Californians do make a mean taco, especially those food truck owners. Some of the best fusion foods out there are in SoCal.”

            The elevator doors open and they push open the giant glass door to settle down. “And California is huge, right? With four seasons.”

            “Well, four seasons is a stretch. You actually need to travel around to experience it; I’ve only had sun my entire life.”

            “So are those tumblr memes about y’all running around outside when it rains true?”

            Seulgi pauses just as she’s about to bite into her taco. “My family as a whole doesn’t really like rain, so maybe not. My friends do that though.”

            “How about the cult-like following for In-N-Out? Is it really that good?”

            Seulgi puts her taco down, fully. “Insult In-N-Out in my presence, and I can’t promise that you’ll be alive by the end of the day.”

            “Duly noted.”

            A few moments of silence follow as they busy themselves with the food, and Seulgi’s almost glad for it, given the sheer volume of noise that has been surrounding her these past few days. College is exciting and all, but she can’t remember the last time she didn’t hear someone talking to her until three in the morning. The others must be feeling the same, because even after finishing their meals, they all whip out their phones and scroll through social media for a good hour before Yeri speaks up again.

            “I’m surprised to see that I haven’t seen any insanely hot women though.” She peers at her phone before flipping it to show them something. “Apparently we’re ranked within the top ten universities for having the hottest women.”

            “How about men? How’d we rank there?”

            Yeri shrugs. “I don’t know. Don’t care. I’m not looking for a man.”

            “Oh ,” Joy says, leaning forward. “But same though.”

            “Wait, you’re gay too? Are we actually twins?”

            Seulgi watches in amusement as the duo start fangirling over some random Hollywood actresses. She turns to Wendy.

            “Ten dollars that they end up together before the start of spring semester.”

            “What?” Wendy scoffs. “No way. Taeyeon is hella adamant about not having block-cest.”

            “The hell is that?”

            “Like...block . We’re all a big, happy family and things get awkward if the entire two floors third wheel only for a couple to break up, so the RAs treat it like it’s sacrilegious.”

            “Do they really expect college students living in proximity of each other to keep their hands to themselves?”

            Wendy shrugs. “There’s always first and second floor to choose from.”

            “Jesus.”

            “Mmhmm.”

            “Hey, Wendy!” Joy shouts, slamming her hand in front of the shorter girl. “Blondes or brunettes?”

            “We still talking about girls?”

            “We always talking about girls.”

            Wendy grimaces. “I’m torn, but I’m going to go with brunettes.”

            “HA!” Joy jabs her finger into Yeri’s shoulder; Yeri looks like Wendy let go of her hand at the edge of a cliff. “Two against one.”

            Yeri slaps Joy’s prodding hand away. “We haven’t asked Seulgi and Irene yet, though!”

            “I told you! Brunette superiority.”

            “No, no, no. Let’s ask.” Yeri looks at Seulgi, eyes focused like laser beams. “Seulgi?”

            “Uh...I…” Seulgi’s eyes shift about. “I’m...straight.”

            “Ugh, useless! Answer anyway though.”

            “Hmm...brunette?”

            “That’s it, I’m leaving. Y’all are all losers.” Yeri marches out.

            “Hey! Take your damn trash!” Joy yells at her retreating back. “Oh wait, you already took your trash opinion, maybe this is a bit too much for you to carry.”

            Yeri marches back in. “Excuse me, what?!”

            They start squabbling again, and it isn’t until Taeyeon tells them to cut it out that Wendy, Seulgi, and Irene get any peace.

-------

            The morning of registration is a noisy affair; some of the kids get up at five in the morning, while others blearily panic over their slowly loading computers ten minutes before the process starts. Luckily, Wendy is pretty diligent about alarms and all, so Seulgi is woken up a good hour before, allowing her to mingle with the others.

            She’s seated on the floor of her shared room with Wendy, a few others chatting amicably about classes right besides them. There’s a knock on the open door, and Seulgi looks up to see Irene standing the the doorway, computer hugged to her chest.

            “Hi, guys. Do you mind if I join? The people on my floor are just in their own rooms, and my roommate must have gone to the library to register.”

            Irene, who lives right above Seulgi, is pretty much the only person from the fourth floor who socializes with the other people in their block, so the third floor has taken her under their wing. She’s a bit quiet, sure, but she’s enthusiastic when it matters, and from what Seulgi has seen of Irene’s track record with board games, she’s got a competitive streak that’ll probably be useful when the Freshmen Olympics come around later that day.

            Wendy pats the spot in between her and Yeri. “Come in, come in. Hope you don’t mind that there’s a lot of people in here.”

            Yunho, D.O., Henry, and another guy named Hongseok, who Seulgi quickly realizes is good at everything (apparently he lived in ten countries, speaks six languages, was varsity captain for his water polo team, has a manual license, graduated as valedictori