She knelt and retrieved the Harvard hoodie, pausing before she pulled it over her head. Cady looked in the mirror again. She lifted her hand to her chest and ran her fingers across the crimson felt lettering. She combed her fingers through the end of her ponytail. Growing up, she’d always hated standing out as a redhead, but hers was the same chestnut tint as her brother’s, a trait they shared with no other living relative. So now her hair didn’t look so much like red, but like Eric. She smiled. People had always said it, but she’d never agreed until now—she looked just like him.
Suddenly, the bedroom door opened, sending the mirror falling forward. Cady lunged to catch it, but not before the corner struck the bedpost and sent a crack splintering across the top.
A middle-aged Indian woman in an azalea-pink tunic stood in the doorway. “Oh, no, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else was here, please let me help you.” She set down the box she was holding and bent to help Cady lift it.
“That’s okay, it’s my fault.”
A girl poked her head in from behind her mother, her long dark hair cascading below her slender neck. Her eyes were framed with heavy lashes, and her finely boned nose was pierced by a sparkly stud. “Mo-om, what did you do?”
“It was an accident,” her mother cried. Then, looking at Cady, “I’m very sorry, I will pay for the mirror—”
“Please, don’t apologize—”
“Great start to the roommate relationship, Mom,” the girl said, playfully, as she entered the room. She was thin and lithe in a way that looked natural, and she was dressed in cool, slouchy jeans and a cropped white tee, displaying a flat, tan tummy. She turned to Cady, her smile bright. “I’m Ranjoo, do you hate me already?”
“Only for those abs.” Cady laughed. “No, it’s great to meet you, I’m Cady.” They hugged, and even her hair smelled good.
“And I am Dr. Vasan, but you may call me Pri.” Her mother embraced Cady as well. “And I insist you allow me to replace the mirror.”
“Really, it’s fine, I think the pieces will stay in.”
“We can’t use a broken mirror, it’s bad luck! And I brought one too, we’ll use mine.”
“Ranjoo, you are here to study science, not superstition.”
“I’m studying art, and now with this bad luck, I’ll be unemployed forever. Think of it, Mom, no job and no doctorate—what will you tell the aunties?”
“Stop it, you terrible daughter.” Her mother grabbed her face and kissed it as Ranjoo scrunched her nose. “You know we are all so proud of you, whatever you decide.”
Cady felt a pang of envy. “Is sharing a bedroom okay with you? Our third roommate, Andrea, requested the single, she’s a light sleeper.”
Ranjoo rolled her eyes. “You got that email from her, too? Last time I checked, being high-maintenance isn’t a medical condition. But you’re nicer than I am. If I’d been here first, I’d have moved my shit right into that single.”
“You still can, I guess.”
“No, you were right, it’s good to be nice. Plus, I’m not going to stick you with the crazy roommate.”
Cady’s smile faded. “Crazy” was another word that would never mean what it used to.
Weld 23 quickly became a very busy place. Ranjoo’s father, the other Dr. Vasan, arrived, and Cady helped them bring Ranjoo’s many boxes upstairs. Ranjoo was from California, so most of her things had been shipped ahead of time, which struck Cady as glamorous, if a total pain to unpack. They were knee-deep in cardboard when the front door opened again, and the third roommate, Andrea Kraus-Feldman, and her family arrived.
“Knock knock, anybody home?” Mr. Kraus-Feldman called out in a singsong voice. He had a big smile and brushy mustache underneath a Harvard Class of ’88 hat.
Mrs. Kraus-Feldman entered next, gazing around dreamily. “Oh, it’s just as I remembered it.”
Andrea emerged from behind her. “Cady, I’m so excited to finally meet you!” she cried, throwing her little arms around her. Cady returned the hug and excitement, feeling only a little phony. Andrea gave Ranjoo a cooler greeting, punishment for that unanswered email.
Andrea was petite and waifishly thin, making her appear younger than eighteen. She had big blue eyes behind outdated wire-rimmed glasses and light brown hair pulled back with barrettes. Her fair skin was poreless but stretched tight across her forehead, so you could see a tiny blue vein at her temple. Andrea’s silent little sister looked just like her, only less worried. Her family members crammed into her single bedroom to get her unpacked, leaving no job for Andrea, so she suggested the new roommates compare classes in the common room. Cady was happy to learn Ranjoo would be in Psych 100 with her. Neither Cady nor Ranjoo had any classes in common with Andrea’s brutal premed course load. Cady glazed over as Andrea agonized over the decision whether to take Chem 17 in fall or spring semester, until she mentioned a Professor Kessler.
“Take the one with Kessler,” Cady said. “He’s a tough grader, but he makes it interesting. Someone else teaches it in the spring and totally sucks by comparison.”
“Really? Good, thank you, that makes me feel so much better to have that decided.” Andrea sighed in relief. “Wait, how do you know that?”
“Oh—” Because Eric took it his freshman year. “My friend’s older brother goes here, and he told me.” Cady was afraid the heat of the lie would show on her face, but Andrea seemed not to notice. Cady hadn’t explicitly decided against telling people about Eric, but she didn’t want to tell her roommates so soon after meeting them. She would wait for the right time.
Ranjoo was discussing the art portfolio submission process for studio classes when Cady tuned back in. Ranjoo showed them pictures on her iPhone of a mural she’d painted on the side of an old warehouse in her hometown. “I didn’t get permission or anything, I just did it over three nights one weekend. But people liked it, so they let me do two more panels, see?”
“That’s incredible,” Cady said, meaning it. “How did I get into this school with you?”
Andrea asked, “And your parents are supportive?”
“Of my majoring in studio art, or my graffiti?”
“Both. I mean, they’re doctors.”
“I know, right? I’m going to have to let them arrange my marriage to make up for it.”
Cady laughed with Ranjoo, but Andrea furrowed her brow. “Are you serious?”
“No, I’m kidding! P.S. You’re racist for not getting the joke.”