The Red School

(3) This Girl Is Cra-zy

CHAPTER 3

Room C8, with its fresh white paint and italic lettering stares me in the face. Libba is grinning, and I am grinning, and we are both about to start our new lives. This is our dorm. Our place. Basically, our new second home. We were both excited.

Libba says just what I was thinking, in a gleeful voice. "We are about to start our new lives. Are you ready?"

"I think so," I nod, breathing in quickly.

"Are you sure?" she is trying to get me pumped up.

At this point I'm shifting back and forth on the balls of my feet. "I'm sure. I'm ready. Are you?"

"Oh, most definitely!"

"Well, we have to go in at some point, so..." we exchange one last glance. When I feel that I really am ready, I grip the cool crystal door knob, twist it clockwise and give a little push, and immediately, I'm hit in the face with cool air.

The door is yanked back the rest of the way, revealing a wide-eyed girl bouncing up and down in excitement. "Hi, roomies!" she squeals. Both Libba and I are yanked into the room by our arms, the door slamming behind us, and then squishes us both in her arms. "Group hug!"

Libba's entire face turns a deep purple and she looks outright insulted. She pulls herself free of the crazy girls grip, a shocked glare etched on her face.

"Sorry!" the girls says, sort of dragging out the words. "I'm a hugger." She giggles. Everything she says seems to be over-animated.

"Well, I'm most definitely not!" Libba shoots back, taking an instant disliking to the girl.

She waves her off. "That's your prerogative. What about you?" she's looking at me. "Do you hug?" she drags out the word hug.

I'm blushing. "I-I don't know. I mean I don't mind hugging..." I trail off, still trying to understand this girl.

She grins, and hugs me again, quickly. "We're going to get on just fine! And you too, even if you don't like hugging." She tells Libba excitedly. Libba takes warning step away from her.

The girl suddenly smacks her forehead. "Oh, where is my hospitality? I'm Delilah Birmingham." She holds out her hand expectantly, which I shake, but Libba looks like she might spit on it, so she pulls it back.

"I'm Valeria Crestlin. This is Libba Ackenwood."

"Welcome, ladies, to room C8." Delilah says in a very high-pitched voice.

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Delilah offers us a tour around our dorm room. The place is pretty big. There's what seems like a small living room (furnished with a couch and a TV-score) We don't have a dining room, but we do have a tiny kitchen, and it's comfortable and everything is made of shiny marble and wood that smells like fresh pine. There's one bathroom, though it doesn't have a tub or shower. "We were very lucky to get a room like this. Most of the others don't have bathrooms or kitchens. Mother had to give the principle a little something something for me to get this room." Delilah winks, but it looks like she's just got something in her eye.

I look at Libba with a raised eyebrow-her family must've been well on also, if she's in this room. She doesn't bother to fill me in.

There is a divider that separates a room with five beds in it from the living room area, yes, five, meaning that there were two more girls late to the party.