Knock first and see who is home

You step down the hallway to the open door, but before stick your head inside, you knock to announce your presence. You see Kendra, sitting cross-legged on her bed, in pajama pants and a t-shirt, reading a thick text book. Sarah is nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, there,” you say, stepping into the room.

“Hey, Connor,” she responds, cheerfully. “How’d your classes go?”

“They were ok. I’ve got a crapload of reading to do. Looks like you do, too.”

“It’s a lot,” she admits. “This is going to be a lot different than high school. I hope I’m up to it.”

“I’ll help you,” you offer, cheerfully and willingly.

Kendra smiles. “I told my mom that I reconnected with you. I still haven’t been able to bring myself to let my parents know about the room arrangements. I might convince them a co-ed dorm is ok, but the thought of sharing a bathroom with a guy is going to take some creative persuading. Anyway, Mom is thrilled that I made such a good friend already, and she wants to reconnect with your mom. Sounds like Parents’ Weekend will be just like old times before I moved away.”

“Maybe your parents will be ok with you living here if they knew I was the one in the next room.”

“I’m working up to that. If I can convince Mom, she might get Dad on board. I know he liked you when he knew you a few years ago, but he’s under the impression that by the time guys get to college, all they think about is sex.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you protest. “I think about lots of other things — like ‘Doctor Who’ and food and sleep ....”

“And having sex with Doctor Who companions, while eating pizza, and having them fall asleep in your bed with you,” Kendra adds, teasingly.

You laugh, too. In part because it’s funny, partly because it’s true, but mainly because that’s the first you have known Kendra to even joke about sex around you. Maybe she is warming up faster than you thought.

Speaking of sex.... You look around, and ask, “Where is Sarah?”

“Not sure.... She was here and was pretty fidgety. I told her to lay off the coffee, because she kept pacing around and talking. She said something about her medicine being off, and I told her to talk to the nurse, but she doesn’t seem to want to.”

“Did she say what the medicine is for?”

“No.... She didn’t volunteer and I didn’t ask. I just hope she’s making wise choices. I’d hate for her to have some kind of reaction or something. Maybe I should go check on her.”

“I’m sure she’s ok,” you tell her. “We’re all a little stressed on our first day, and we all deal with that stress in our own ways.”

The fatigue in your shoulder reminds you of the weight of books in your backpack. You hoist it into your hands and say, “Speaking of which, I’d better get to my own reading. If I don’t figure out how to manage all this work, it’ll be a moot point about whether your folks like me ‘cuz I’ll be flipping burgers back home and living in Mom and Dad’s garage.”

You wish Kendra a good evening and head back to your room.