A stoner girl, shunned by the sorority sisters

Ally's room is off the corner from the bathrooms on the third floor, and it's a small room but she has it all to herself. Hers is actually the first door in her suite, which she shares with several Delta Delta sisters that are all downstairs at the mixer with the visiting frat. Having a single usually means a girl is a junior or senior, one of the older members of the Greek house.

"Welcome, welcome," Ally shows a little spirit as she invites you in. "Welcome to my humble abode."

More like live-in mess.

Ally's room is a pile of dirty laundry in one corner, pillows and bean bag chairs and couch cushions in another, her bed (covered in what might be clean laundry) next to a dresser in the third, and a little 'altar' of knick-knacks, trinkets, hippy stones, and other spirtuality bullshit including a dildo shaped like a peace sign and a glass bong. The walls are covered in posters, Pink Floyd and Nirvana and other stereotypical college stoner apparel. There are a few paintings that you've never seen before, and you put it together pretty quickly as Ally goes to the glass bong, brings it over to the pile of bean bag chairs and cushions, and sits down cross legged.

"Nice place." You make with the small talk, but don't sit down yet.

Girls like Ally are at every university: lost stoner girls who came in with high ambitions and unwieldy philosophies their freshmen year, then burned out over their sophomore and junior years. Ally is a classic case of a girl who doesn't resemble herself from two years ago: she's grown up but hasn't matured, she's broadened her mind by going to music festivals and trying different psychedelics, but she will be lucky if she doesn't fail out. She used to be social (had to be to have gotten into an elite sorority like Delta Delta), but now Ally is "that girl" that basically nobody pays any mind to, and she is fine like that: as long as she can get high, take in an art exhibit or a concert every few weekends, and doesn't run out of cash, she's happy until she gets the letter of expulsion from the Dean.

Ally's put her hair up in a sloppy bun, and her sweatshirt hides her breasts, but she's got nice, creamy legs poking out of her shorts. Bangles, necklaces, and wristbands adorn her and she jingles when she sits down. Yeah, you could definitely do a lot worse. Ally's hazel eyes are empty, her face vapid and expressionless. She blinks at you and sucks at her cigarette.

"It's rude to stand, you know."