Not really.

I finally managed to find my voice by focusing intently on the math problems. Books and practice problems didn’t judge me, especially since our professor wouldn’t even grade them. It felt weird coming from high school where homework wasn’t just a suggestion. Come to think of it, I should be glad Vanessa took her studies seriously instead of going full school yard bully on me and making me help her cheat. Of course that would be a lot riskier and harder to pull off here in college. But the important thing is Vanessa has now heard my voice and knows I can talk. Which means she has now confirmed that I am cowardly enough to go a whole week in silence to avoid conflict.

Still, I think her dates comments shamed her in a way nothing else had, at least a little. She stopped making a mess everywhere, and even made her bed once… well she tried to. Her idea of putting clothes away was shoving them in drawers unfolded, and I’m not sure she knows what sheets are for based on how she put them on the bed. I was still intimidated by her, but that’s not why I waited for her to leave and then re-did everything. I’m not OCD or anything, but she didn’t even put the clothes in the right drawers. I can’t have anything like OCD, no mental health professional has ever looked at me and concluded such a thing. They couldn’t since that would require me to voluntarily go to my appointments and talk to a stranger.

Over the next two weeks we settled into a kind of routine. She minimized her mess and I cleaned up after her. It wasn’t technically much different than before, but it felt a lot better to have her at least try and help clean. The next time she brought someone over, a boy this time, she first made me leave the room.

“I need the room.” She said, arm in arm with what looked like a preppy boys idea of what a punk rocker looked like.

I sat in my desk chair at the foot of her bed. “… but where?” Okay, I could talk to her now but full sentences outside of school talk were still difficult. Nonetheless she had gotten decent at interpreting my meaning.

Sighing dramatically she shoved her new friend roughly past me and onto her bed. I doubted she would keep her friend for long if she was that rough… I blushed under my makeup and was happy it hid my embarrassment from the dirty images my thoughts had unintentionally conjured… did he know what he was getting himself into?

Vanessa then reached down and firmly took me by the wrist and pulled me up and out of the room. Once in the hallway she let go and looked me in the face, causing me to look at the floor. “Can’t you hang out elsewhere for an hour or two? Do you have to be in the room all the time?”

“… but it’s my room…” it was hard for me to express the kind of safety and comfort that being in a space that was mine brought me. Sure I could get by if I was scheduled to be in a place like a classroom or a food court, or if I had a clear mission and justification for being there like needing a book from the library or supplies from the store. But nothing beat one’s own room where no schedule or justification was ever needed to just… be. And she thought I could just go and exist somewhere with no task, no schedule or purpose, that wasn’t my room? Madness.

Unfortunately while she had gotten better at understanding me, I have to admit I doubt anyone would have understood what I meant without having lived with me for years, “But it’s my room too! Just be somewhere else for an hour.” And she walked back in. Closed the door. Leaving me outside the room… without shoes. I looked around and found that luck was with me as the hall was empty. I couldn’t go in to get my shoes, I could already hear sounds from the room that made it clear Vanessa didn’t like wasting time. I also couldn’t leave without shoes even if I somehow found heretofore undiscovered wells of courage deep within me. All the courage I had was being spent just to exist with Vanessa, and it only held out thanks to the replenishing effects of my room.

Without shoes I also wasn’t going to go to the bathroom. My socks were not touching that floor no matter how nice a bathroom stall sounded right now. Which left only… here. I sat down on the rough carpeted floor next to the door and brought my knees up under my chin. I had shorts on under my skirt so the position wasn’t flashing anyone, but I still hoped not too many people would walk by. And I really hoped anyone who did would politely pretend I didn’t exist.

Vanessa was pretty accurate about it being an hour, although it sounded like within that hour had been at least three separate sessions. I got a few side glances from pedestrians, but was able to hold it together. Every fiber of my body wanted to hide my face behind my knees, but experience told me that if you look too miserable in public it makes people want to ask what’s wrong or what you’re doing. So I put on my best nonchalant expression as I stared at the wall, and with probably more luck than was my fair share I survived without anyone talking to me. When she found me waiting outside the door she didn’t look happy, but she didn’t say anything about it.

The next time she brought someone over was a girl again. Rather than risk finding me curled up on the floor outside without shoes, she calmly and kindly walked me down to my car and handed me a book. It was a trashy vampire romance novel, and looked pretty beat up. I doubted she got it from the library, so I think this was a glimpse into her past development into the goth queen she was now. Or maybe I’m thinking too much into a random book shoved into my face to keep me busy. She might just think this is what I’m into. Either way I had an assignment, hardly an official one but my brain would take what justification it could get.

An hour later she came down to let me know I could come back. I felt like a kid being picked up by her parent. I had made it a quarter of the way through the book, and wasn’t a fan of the protagonist. What type of idiot falls for someone who treats her so rudely.

The next day was a bit of a surprise though. She threw my faux combat boots at me as I sat on my bed. “Come on, we’re going to the mall.”

“…why?” I’m not sure I would have been more eloquent even if I was someone else. It was just such a random thing to have thrown at me out of nowhere.

“Because malls are dying across the nation and need angsty teens and early twenties folk to sate their need for capitalist propaganda. And I’m sick of us having the same hair style. You’re going to the salon and I’m paying, so no complaints.”

Holy shit I think she’s trying to be nice. I am not sure I’m mentally prepared for this. What if we actually become friends, and we become such good friends she shows me how to do that dark cheek blush that makes her makeup so much better than mine! And we could gossip and have sleepover’s… okay that last one makes no sense for roommates but…

A hand snaps in front of my dazed face, “Hurry up, the mall isn’t open all day. Probably why they’re dying.” I wordlessly responded by hurriedly putting my boots on.

We took her red jeep. It wasn’t very comfortable but it was very much her, despite not being in black. I noticed that as much of a goth queen as she was, she didn’t actually seem to worry too much if everything she had matched the aesthetic. The metal music she blasted certainly matched though and made small talk impossible. At the mall we quickly walked by several empty storefronts. I was never into malls but even I knew there was supposed to be more stores inside than this. Finally we made it to the salon.

“Hello, what can I do for you today?” Despite her beach blond look the clerk didn’t bat an eye at the goth duo that had appeared before her. The customer service was strong with this one.

“She’s getting her hair done,” Vanessa said and gestured to me.

“Alright, would you like to look at our catalog or do you know what you want already?” She had turned to me. And I turned to examine her counter. Counters are very important. You can tell a lot about a business by how they take care of their counters. Very important.

“… catalog please.”

“Of course, here you go miss.” She smiled at me and handed me a large laminated brochure with dozens of pictures of women’s heads.

And that is how the professional people-talkers do it. I can do this. Not everyone is Vanessa, and even Vanessa is nicer than she seems. Now I just need to pick a hairstyle… oh god I have no idea what I want. I went with straight hair down to mid-back because I have straight hair that grows down to my mid-back. It’s not that complicated. Okay, I did also choose cut bangs, but that was just because it meant I couldn’t hide behind my hair as much. Confident people don’t hide behind their hair… I miss my bangs.

After several minutes of me silently flipping back and forth between pages, clearly not actually absorbing what I was looking at, Vanessa stepped in. Finally, her brash and confident behavior worked in my favor!

“She’d like this one.” Vanessa pointed to a head sporting long pig tails with wavy curls. I had to admit it would make me look like a very cutesy goth, and as I couldn’t exactly compete for the serious goth look while standing in Vanessa’s shadow it was a good choice. I smiled and nodded.

I felt awkward having someone else touch my head, but I closed my eyes and just went along for the ride. Thankfully the look didn’t require any serious hair cutting, just some trimming along my bangs and around my neck. I left the salon feeling like an elementary school kid again, nostalgically wearing a hairstyle I hadn’t since before I really became full on terrified of the world around me. In fairness I didn’t have to meet new people as often back then, but still.

“I didn’t know you could smile.”

I blushed and my smile shrank, but didn’t go away. “…thank you.”

Vanessa looked away at… the wall? And scratched the side of her head. She then let out a sigh and looked back to me. Something about her demeanor had changed. “You look nice.” And her tone had changed drastically. She sounded like she really meant it. Oh my god this was it. I thought it was just wishful thinking before but now I think this is really it! This is where we bond and become actually friends! It’s been almost a month of hell but it’s finally happening! I feel my smile widening again and I stare at my feet.

“What was your name again?” My smile waivers a bit… but I realize I never did get the chance to properly introduce myself. I would have thought she would have remembered it from class when the teacher called on me. I even helpfully made it clear it was me by using my trademark silence whenever the whole class looked at me. I figure the professor will stop trying to involve me in class discussions soon. Oh, wait she still needs my name…

“Samantha.”

“Hmm, not very dark. How about Violet? We can be called VV.” Oh my god she’s thinking of roommate nicknames for us! This is going better than I could have dreamed. Am I dreaming? No, this is real. Don’t pinch yourself, confident people don’t pinch themselves to question the validity of their reality.

“… Violet.” I confirm the name. It’s not something I would have thought up myself, but she gave it to me so I love it. Kind of presumptuous to change someone’s name like that but damned if I’m not too happy to care about a little thing like that. I can feel my cheeks begin to tire with the strain of my smile. Damn, the malls floor is surprisingly nice looking.

Vanessa takes me by the wrist and we begin to walk wherever she guides me. When I finally look up after we stop I find she’s moved me to a goth clothing store. I didn’t bring much money, not expecting to do real shopping, but I could window shop if it meant keeping this magical day going. Well, as long as she was with me. I bought all my current goth clothes online precisely because I couldn’t walk into a store alone and didn’t want to ask my parents to watch their daughter purchase a physical representation of her angst.

I stick close to Vanessa’s side, looking cautiously at various pants, shirts, studs and belts on things that really don’t need them, shoes and hats of all kinds, as long as those kinds were black.

“This would look good on you,” Vanessa says, holding up a black leather choker with purple stones inset into it. It’s thicker than my current dainty choker and has a metal loop on it, like a collar. I blush and nod. If she thought it looked good then I agreed. We kept walking around, but found nothing else that caught Vanessa’s eye.

We went to the counter, and Vanessa bought the choker. She said it looked good on me, perhaps she thinks I’m a good stand in for a mirror? I worry she won’t like the way it looks on her, but don’t say anything. She refuses the receipt, “we’ll wear it out, thanks.”

She turns to me and reaches towards my neck, removing my old choker with practiced ease. I realize what she’s doing but it’s too late. I can’t even inspect the floor with her hands keeping my neck straight as she fastens the heavy choker on me.

“Perfect. I knew it would look good on you.”

Her hands free of me I finally can resume my floor inspection. A lot of people don’t appreciate how much floor inspectors do for our community. It’s very tempting for businesses to skimp on the floor since most don’t pay attention, but we floor inspectors keep them good and honest.

As my mind flies into panicked delusions, I manage to squeak out my gratitude. “Th… thank you… Vanessa.” I think this the first time I’ve managed to say her name to her face. Well, to the floor but still. I bite my lower lip in a vain attempt to get my smile under control.

“No problem. Let’s go get something to eat. My treat.”

The rest of the day is less dramatic but just as amazing. We ate at the malls food court, and she tells me about how she got her jeep. Apparently she won it in a bet? But it was only bet because it was a piece of junk anyways. Her dad’s a mechanic though and helped her fix it. It cost her all of her summer job money for parts but still was way less than a jeep of that model would have cost normally, so she was pretty happy with it.

By the time we made it back to our dorm I’d gotten her to let me hold her hand as we walked. Like real friends! I felt on top of the world! I didn’t even mind that people saw me giggling in public at Vanessa’s story about her cousins motorbike accident. She assured me he was fine and it wasn’t serious, so it was okay to laugh at his misplaced smack talk before wiping out.

Vanessa opened the door and I felt like this was finally the beginning of my real college life.