Alma mater

[mitochondriaaya]

Aya shifted the strap on her shoulder and looked up at the huge building. Really, huge. Sadly, the size of the building didn't match up to the size of the rooms, and her dorm mate already had so much junk spread over both beds that she was afraid to put her duffle down. The girl couldn't have been here much longer than Aya, after all, the dorm's opened today. "Hello?" she called out.

"What? Hey, just put it on the floor there..." a girl called, waving an arm from the bathroom.

"You've got more coming?!" Aya couldn't help but ask, shocked.

"Oh..." the girl, well, woman really, stuck her head out of the bathroom. She was gorgeous, in a flashy kind of way. "Hey, kid, look. I don't tell you how to live alright, so keep your skinny little ass out of my business."

Riiiight. Aya shifted her duffle a bit more securely and started clearing clothes and such off one of the beds. "Sure, whatever. I'm Aya. This is my dorm room. Keep your things off my bed and we'll get along just fine."

"Wait, oh you're shitting me. I am not rooming with some little brat." she came out of the bathroom now, six feet if she was an inch and ever inch the made-up model. Damn, a fashion student.

"Sorry sweetie." Aya smiled and tossed a few boxes after the clothes. "You are. I have to be in bed by ten, so don't try staying up all hours okay?" What? Aya didn't like the girl okay? Her father was dead three months, the boys were a city away, and Aya just wasn't in the mood to play nice.

"What the hell are you doing?" the model almost-screeched, picking boxes off the clothes pile as if they'd crush something delicate. "Look here girl, let's get one thing straight right now. you're not going to touch my clothes. You're not going to touch my things. You don't like that you can just get the fuck out now."

Aya arched an eyebrow and sat on her bed. "And you'll keep your belongings in your own section. Clothes in the dresser or closet, your dresser and your closet I mean. If you 'forget' I'll pitch everything I find in the nearest donation bin."

"Well, you're a cocky little bitch." the model stalked forward, looming over the seated fifteen year old. "You think I won't hit some kid? I will. You touch my things your head will ring for days, got me?"

"Hmmmm." well, the important people in her life already knew she was a violent little thing. It wouldn't have surprised them in the least to see her leg snap out to kick Ms. Model in the shins. Heels, well, heels snapped when the person wearing them was unbalanced. It certainly stopped the looming. Looming bothered Aya. "Oh, and the language. You shouldn't swear around kids Miss. It gives us the wrong idea."

The Dean of housing wasn't happy to have Aya sitting in his office a little later. The model was off having her arm set. Day one and she was seeing the principal. Well. At least she hadn't changed much? "No sir, she threatened me sir." Aya explained. "When I made her break her heels she went for something in her bag. I didn't feel like getting stabbed or worse. I overreacted, I should have just pinned her. I'm sorry."

"Yes, yes, we found a weapon. That is against the school rules, you are not going to be expelled. We are going to have some difficulty in housing you now though..."

Aya nodded "Yeah, I'll get my own place, don't worry. I am probation though right?" she should be, assault on the first day and the cops at the dorms...

"Yes, probation. No more fighting." the dean sighed and closed the file on his desk.

"Yes sir." she nodded and stood, waiting to be dismissed.

"Go. Ms. Myers will be kept overnight, you can rest in the dorms tonight. I'll help you look for housing in the morning."

"Sir I'll find lodging myself." Aya smiled then and left.

So.

Phone calls.

"Boys, you want to go apartment shopping....now? I'll need cosigners. No one rents to fifteen year olds..."

Comments

[sliceitwithwind]

"Be there in twenty." is the answer to the question, "And you know we'll sign. Or, well. Braig will sign." they don't rent to seventeen year olds, either, but nineteen? Yeah, that's fine.

True to their words, twenty minutes later? The boys are there.

[mitochondriaaya]

Aya was...sitting on the curb and leaning against her duffle. Not because she had to be out the building exactly, but because she'd forgot to tell them the room number. It was just easier this way?

"So....um. Broke a models arm? Or maybe her wrist. Dunno. How has your day been?" she offered with a grin.

[sliceitwithwind]

"Did she deserve it?" Dilan asks, bending to give her a hug and ruffle her hair. He's still not comfortable with being huge - it's only been a year, and only in the last three months that he filled out. "And is there anything you want us to do?"

[mitochondriaaya]

"Ummm, kinda?" Aya offered with a wince. "She wasn't very nice and she was probably going for what they found in her bag..." but she may not have been.

"Well...how do we apartment hunt? I'd invite you up but there's stuff all over the room..."

[sliceitwithwind]

"We can move stuff." Dilan says, smiling (technically smiling), "I brought a laptop, so we can hunt on it, but I need to plug it in."

[mitochondriaaya]

"Okay, well, come on in then?" Aya shifted her duffel back onto her shoulder and stood. The dorms were...crazy inside. It was moving in day, and the hallways were small...

...and yes, it looked like a clothing store had exploded in Aya's room.

[sliceitwithwind]

Dilan swept a collection of clothing off of one of the desks and set up his laptop while Braig looked around. If Dilan looked around, he'd clean.

A lot.

"Okay, so what do you want in an apartment, hon?" the bigger of the two young men asks.

[mitochondriaaya]

Aya folded herself onto the only clear bed, leaving plenty of room for Braig. "I don't know? Didn't think about it. A kitchen I guess? And a bed."

[sliceitwithwind]

Braig flopped down next to her while Dilan snorted quietly and started running searches. "How many places are you up for looking?"

[mitochondriaaya]

Aya flopped back onto Braig as a matter of course then sighed "Well, as many as necessary?I have permission to stay here tonight." that was it. The end?

"You guys had it easy, going in with a roomate."

[sliceitwithwind]

"You should have come to college with us." Dilan mutters while Braig runs his fingers through her hair comfortingly, "You could still transfer." He doesn't like having her this far away for some undefined reason.

The typing goes on for a while, with Dilan muttering things like insufficiently low crime and pshaw, right.

[mitochondriaaya]

"Can't always be your tag along." Aya pointed out simply. "I'm not going for sciences. I'm going for criminal justice and psych. The program here is better, and I get a guaranteed slot in police training." she had reasons, really!

Even if she was going to miss people who'd pet her. "Besides, here, I get a chance to see what the world's like where you guys haven't terrified every guy within twenty miles."

[sliceitwithwind]

"You're not our tag-along." Braig says instantly. Dilan sighs, nods, and keeps typing.

"Hook up the printer, monkey?"

[mitochondriaaya]

"But you're not denying chasing off the guys?" Aya asked Braig shrewdly, then tweaked his nose before she sat up to dig for a printer.

"I tried to explain the whole 'not a tag-along' thing to someone once. Don't remember who, but they didn't get that we just kinda ended up together no matter who went first." Success! Printer!

[sliceitwithwind]

"Only the assholes." Braig says firmly, lounging on her bed.

Dilan, while Aya is looking for the printer, starts cleaning. And tidying. And, generally, making the room look clean enough to perform surgery in.

[mitochondriaaya]

"Uh-huh" Aya stuck her tongue out in Braig's direction. Really, she believed him!

Once she had the printer hooked up she grabbed Dilan's arms and steered him back towards the computer. "She really doesn't like people touching her stuff..."

[sliceitwithwind]

Dilan looks down at her and says, "Yeah, not so much caring right now." although he does start printing out his list and passing it over to Braig to start making phone calls.

[mitochondriaaya]

"I know" she sighed. She just...didn't want him getting stuck when they had to go? "If we've got the list we can go now? Get you out of here?"

[sliceitwithwind]

"Let Braig finish the calls." Dilan says, "Weed out the assholes first."

[mitochondriaaya]

Aya nibbled her lips a moment then nodded. Best to give into the inevitable and...contain Dilan? "Hit the bathroom? I think I saw a custodian cart down the hall. I'll get you some stuff to nuke the tiles with..."

[sliceitwithwind]

"Gotcha." he says, heading into the bathroom and beginning to clean it. By the time Braig has rushed through all of the calls the bathroom is not only clean enough to eat in, he's also organized it.

"Good thing you're not going to live here, monkey." Dilan says as they drag him out, "I'd spend all my time fixing the pigstye."

[mitochondriaaya]

Aya had....guarded the bathroom door? More to keep Dilan in than anyone out. Once they were clear though (and the supplies returned to the janitor), Aya shuddered "Yeah, ew. She couldn't have been here more than three hours before me and...hurricanes are easier to clean up after! How does anyone live like that?!" she was neat by nature...

...and neater still in deference to Dilan.

[sliceitwithwind]

"Lead on, Braig." Dilan says, waving to the door. Braig drapes an arm casually around Aya's waist and heads for the exit, chatting about various apartments.

[mitochondriaaya]

Aya listened carefully, trying to figure out more traits that she would like in an apartment. She wasn't sorry to see the end of the crowded dorm.

The dorm, on the other hand, certainly noticed the trio as they left. It was a women's dorm. It was moving in day. There were no few envious looks, and the hallways had paths no matter how many suitcases had been there at first. Too bad for them.

"Alright, closest first or farthest?" Aya asked when they made it to the street. Or did we make appointments?"

[sliceitwithwind]

"Closest." Dilan says with a smile, "Less walking for you if it pans out."