Knock at the door

A knock sounded just as I shoved the last empty box into the corner. Manny opened the door, and the conversation in the hall faded for me the second I saw her.

She was stunning—smooth ebony skin, dark curls, and a confident smile that said she knew exactly how much space she occupied.

“Hi, I’m Dominica,” she said. Her voice was smooth, her tone efficient. “I’m here to give you both a quick tour of campus and go over some of the welcome events.”

“Nice to meet you, Dominica. I’m Manny,” he said easily.

I straightened a little, unconsciously slipping into parade rest. “Craig,” I said, offering a hand.

Her eyes flicked over me—once, briefly—before she shook my hand. Her grip was firm, professional. If she was impressed, she didn’t show it.

“Good,” she said with a polite smile that felt more administrative than personal. “In about an hour, there’ll be a welcome meeting in the dining area. Pizza, drinks, student clubs introducing themselves—pretty standard. Any questions before I move on?”

Manny shook his head. “We’re good.”

Dominica nodded. “Great. See you both there.”

As she turned to leave, I caught her glancing back once, just long enough that I couldn’t tell if it was curiosity or habit. Either way, it left me wondering what she’d seen—and why, for the first time in a while, not being noticed felt like a challenge.