Part One: June-18

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I woke up to the sound of the shower and a light snore. I sat up on the old green couch and looked around the room, the chandelier light was on, illuminating the area and making me squint. I stretched and folded up the blankets, putting them in a neat pile on one end of the couch.

Knock! Knock!

I looked around, and seeing no one else awake, I skipped over to the door. Pulling on my wrinkled dress and knotted hair, I attempted to make myself semi presentable.

“Hey Riley,” A deep voice came and I came face to face with a pile of my luggage and other suitcases. “I think some of these are yours?”

“How did you know it was me?” I asked as we eased the suitcases to the floor.

“Because only one other person would be up this early and she would have punched me.”

“Who?”

“Dasha.” He shook his head and chuckled, “I told you, fighters are dangerous and unstable people didn’t I?”

“I herd that Hunter!” A low voice echoed from the bathroom. I herd the water turn off and I looked back to Hunter.

“Well,” He laughed and through one more suitcase in from the porch. “On that note, I leave you.”

“Bye Hunter,” I giggled and closed the door.

My savior for bringing me clean clothes. I dug through my suitcase for my tan dress, when I finnally pulled it out the bathroom door opened . A towel clad Dasha looked at my clothing of choice and shook her head.

“Don’t wear a dress to your orientation unless you want everyone to see your underwear,” She said, her voice smooth and her eyes uncaring.

“Its a very physical test?” I asked her as she came closer to a black suitcase, “Not something I do with pencil and paper?”

“Its a test on everything you need to be,” She said as she picked up a bundle of clothes, “You should pass unless you were never really suppose to be here.”

I feel so welcomed now. She walked back into the bathroom and dug for a different set of clothes. I settled on a nice pair of black spandex shorts, a tank top, and a T-shirt. I grabbed my toiletries, planning on taking a shower after Dasha steps out of the bathroom.

I closed my suitcase and pushed it over to the wall.

“Good Morning,” Missy yawned from her bed.

“Good morning to you too,” I smiled at her. She smiled and ran over to the luggage.

“Hey Riley,” Another yawn emerged from above me. I looked up into Zoe’s green eyes as she leaned over the side of the bunk bed. “How did you sleep last night?”

“Good,” I nodded, “How about you,”

“Like the dead,” She sat up, her feet dangleing off the side of the bed. She looked over to Missy, who was digging through a suitcase. “Did you wake up before Missy?”

“Yeah,” I looked back up to her, “Why?”

“Ugh,” She scrunched up her nose, “That means I get the shower fourth. Gross.”

“Maybe you should wake up earlier.” I shrugged, not sure of what else to say.

“Eh,” She shrugged as well, “Or I can have my sleep and take a shower at night. But, I find it hard to change things I’ve been doing for years.”

“Me too,” I nodded and turned around when Dasha came out of the bathroom sporting a white racerback Tee, jean shorts, and a black vest.

“I’m done,” She said and looked over at me, “You can use it now.”

“Thank you,” I smiled weakly at her and she frowned. I scurried into the bathroom, blushing at my lame attempt at making friends.

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