A demure, religious girl

The room was pretty much what she’d expected: miniscule, with two twin beds separated by a bit of carpeted walkway, two small writing desks facing opposite walls, and a closet barely acceptable for even one person tucked into a corner.

There was also a girl in the room, standing amidst a small pile of cardboard boxes stacked in the center walkway. She was a bit taller than Izzy, with shoulder-length blonde hair. She wore a heavy beige sweater above her long skirt. It was concealing—and probably sweltering in the late August heat—but it failed at what Izzy assumed to be its intended purpose: concealing this girl’s fat, bouncy tits.

An instinctive pang of jealousy shot through Izzy as the girl turned and her ridiculous chest put on a show of jiggling. Each one was like a fucking cantaloupe stuffed into that sweater. Izzy suppressed the urge to glance down in comparison at her own tiny bumps. As the girl faced her, Izzy noticed a prominent cross necklace hanging down—or rather, practically resting on top of those stupid totally-unfair boobs. At least that explained the outfit.

Both girls started to talk at once, but the Christian won out, saying, “Hi! You’re probably my new roommate, right?”

“Yeah. I’m Izzy”, she replied, stepping fully into the room. “You?”

“Gwendolyn! Or just Gwen.”, she chirped, then gestured at the boxes around her. “I uhh… didn’t want to pick a side all on my own; figured we should decide together. Which one do you want?”

The sides were essentially identical. Still, Gwen seemed pleased with herself for offering the choice, so Izzy figured she might as well indulge her.