Chapter 4 #2
A feeling of obligation to make sure my new neighbor is okay takes over, concern pushing me each extra step to her door.
I lift my hand to knock, but freeze. What’s the proper etiquette when barging in and meeting your neighbor for the first time in a maybe emergency? Knock awkwardly and hope she hears it? Walk in and pray to the gods she isn’t the throw daggers first, ask questions later type?
Ugh, I am completely overthinking this. Taking a deep breath, I decide on a combo: a light knock, and then gently push the door open.
The door creaks open an inch before there’s a low thud from whatever stops it from opening further.
“Hello? Are you ok?”
Nothing. Maybe she’s hurt in the bathroom and can’t hear me?
Putting my full body weight into the next push, whatever is behind the door slides a few more inches, just enough for me to slip my head inside.
The room can only be described as a war zone of clothes, gear, and what I’m hoping are spell-casting supplies next to the desk, which is lying on its side.
A girl my age with a cascade of soft brown hair that frames a face sprinkled with freckles is hopping on one foot near the window, clutching the other and cursing with words that sound like a kid made them up. She hasn’t even noticed me yet.
“Uh…hi?” I offer, still mostly hidden behind the door. “Are you okay?”
“Oh. Great. A witness,” she mutters to herself, grimacing as she limps toward me. “Yeah, I’m fine. Conducting a very scientific experiment in how many things I can trip over in ten seconds.”
“I’d say you’re breaking records,” I joke, trying to ease her tension.
She sighs, her brown eyes flicking up to mine for the first time—quick and uncertain, but warm.
“I’m Sasha,” she says, voice soft but steady. “Sorry you had to, um…see all that.”
“Don't worry about it. I’ve definitely made worse entrances. I’m Annalise, friends call me Lee. I just moved into the room next door. Charlie Company.”
“I’m Charlie Company, too!” she practically shouts at me, which leads to an awkwardly long stretch of silence. She glances around at the scattered mess, cheeks coloring slightly. “This…wasn’t really how I imagined meeting my hallmate.”
“Hey, could’ve been worse,” I say. “Now you have someone to help you move this desk back and to make sure you don’t accidentally set our building on fire in the process. Dare I ask what happened?”
Sasha lets out a small giggle, the tension in her shoulders easing a little bit.
“That would actually be really helpful, thanks! I was trying to make things feel less like a cell, but then I tripped over my stuff, kicked the corner of my bed, and considered throwing it all out the window so I don’t have to deal with it.
Buuut, accepting your offer to help may be the more rational choice. ”
“Just a little,” I say with a wink as I squeeze the rest of the way inside.
“And look on the bright side, we lucked out and got rooms free of ghosts and mattresses without suspicious stains.” It's only partially a joke, but I feel like it might be too soon to tell her that this is luxurious compared to the very real jail cell I’ve been living in for the last few months, vile mattress and all.
Sasha nods, her voice lowering to a whisper. “Right? I heard a girl last year on the first floor swore her room was haunted because her armoire door kept opening on its own.”
She pauses for suspense, and I take the bait.
“Was it ghosts? A prank? Come on, you can’t keep me hanging!”
“Plot twist—it was her cat!” she breaks into laughter.
“It snuck into one of her suitcases and was hiding behind her clothes for a few weeks. She only found out because the cat happened to be hiding under her bed when she was searching for a shirt she wanted to wear out on the first free weekend. Supposedly, it had been climbing in and out of her window and was finding mice and other rodents to eat while she was in class.”
I snort. “That’s oddly comforting. Maybe the academy should invest in some cats.”
As we right the desk and I help her refold her clothes, we fall into easy conversation.
“I’m not sure how much dragons like cats, but I could be convinced to keep one.” Her face turns serious. “Okay, Annalise, tell me everything. Right now.” I freeze. How could she already know?
Then she continues, “Where are you from? Why are you here? And most importantly, what are your go-to late-night snacks?”
I raise an eyebrow and laugh in relief. “Wow, straight for the deep, soul-baring questions, huh?”
“Hey, if we’re going to navigate this place together, I need to know if we’re compatible on the sacred snack level.”
I take a deep breath. She’ll find out about me soon enough, and I guess I’d rather she hears it from me.
“Fair. Well, I’m from South Hollow—about a ten-hour drive from here.
My best friend Matt and I were sentenced to be here…
” I pause, bracing for her to freak out or make an excuse to get me out of her room.
But she doesn’t. She just waits, calm, curious.
Ok, going better than I thought it would.
I give her the basics of the events that led to Matt and me being here.
“So, you were conscripted because you defended yourself? And your friend was sent here because he helped you?” Her questions sound genuinely concerned—a reaction I was not expecting.
“Technically, yes. Well, that and the fact that we ran after the fight. But my dad made up a bullshit story about what happened, and between him and his friends, that’s the ‘truth’ that stuck.”
“Wow.”
That’s all she says, so I continue answering her other questions.
“Matt’s the best, though. He lives two floors up, so you’ll definitely see him around. I could live on coffee, tacos, and tequila…and I love everything chocolatey…or salty…or if I’m in the mood, then gummies.”
Sasha smiles and motions for me to sit at the end of her bed while she leans back against the headboard. Once we’re comfortable, she launches into her own, far less messy, backstory.
I learn Sasha’s mom and dad are both retired Arcane Healers, and she is like a child prodigy in both healing and spellcasting. And I’m thankful when she confirms the crimson vials scattered across the floor when I came in are, in fact, tinctures she's working on and not blood.
Apparently, despite her parents having earned plenty of favor with King Lucen, they’re super introverts, so Sasha didn’t grow up going to events and hanging out with or getting to know any of the other recruits.
“There are some nice people, but you’ll realize that most of them just don’t care to talk to you unless you’re in their circle. They won’t be rude, well, the majority won’t, they’ll just pretend you don’t exist.”
“I’m surprisingly okay with that,” I laugh.
“Same! So…have you learned anything that’ll help us survive this place yet?” she asks, propping her chin on her fist.
“Oh, totally. Over dinner, Matt's new friend James gave us the rundown.” I sit up a little straighter and count off on my fingers. “Rule one: never trust the cafeteria’s ‘mystery meat.’ Rule two: always keep a backup snack hidden somewhere—preferably where even a hungry neighbor can’t find it,” I wink.
Sasha gasps in mock offense. “Ruuude.”
“His words, not mine,” I tease. “Rule three: if you find a quiet corner in the library, guard it like your life depends on it. Apparently, that place turns into a war zone, especially on the weekends.”
She laughs, the sound light and easy, and for the first time since I got here, I feel something close to normal. The tension I didn’t realize I’d been carrying has loosened in her bubbly aura.
We’ve talked about everything under the sun and spiraled all the way to our favorite books when I finally notice the time.
“I should probably crash before morning formation,” I sigh, starting to pull my shoes back on.
“Yeah, good call,” Sasha says, smiling. “Don’t worry, we’ll survive the first day together.”
With a quick goodbye and plans to meet in the morning, I grab my bag and head for the door.
Back in my room, I shower and get ready for bed. Without thinking, I shoot Matt a quick text to let him know I’m safe and going to sleep.
I’ve been sending that same message before bed every night for as long as I’ve had a phone. And even though I’m not at risk of getting one of my dad's beatings, I know for a fact that Matt would be pounding my door down soon if I didn’t send the message.