The Roommate
Chapter Seven
THE ROOMMATE
Ceri
T here was something wrong with Ceri’s face in the looking glass, and she knew exactly what it was.
She had returned late from her night under the stars, and she’d woken late this morning to the chaotic sound of move-in day arriving. She dressed quickly, hoping her new roommate would be there soon, but as she surveyed her appearance, she knew it just wouldn’t do.
She looked like herself. Or, more accurately, she looked like the version of herself she didn’t want to be anymore. The version of herself that had stared in the looking glass in Weldan House, sobbing over Isaac, just weeks earlier.
“No more,” said Ceri. She looked at her long silver hair, the way it fell in silky sheets over her chest, nearly touching her waist.
It was beautiful, and it had to go.
Ceri didn’t have any scissors, but she guessed where she could find some: in a supply closet she’d passed on her way back in the night before. She dodged the parents and students juggling bags, trunks, and the occasional animal carrier and retrieved the scissors, along with a few spare notebooks and pens for good measure.
Back at the looking glass, she pinched the hair into a neat row with one hand as she held the scissors in the other.
How hard could it be?
She didn’t think, she just cut.
A huge chunk of silver fell apart into strands and came to rest in the sink below.
She let out a high-pitched giggle, looking at the chunk that was shorter than the rest. It felt insane.
It felt good.
She kept cutting, chunk after chunk until the sink was littered with silver. Finally, she’d gotten all of it.
Her hair was just to the bottom of her neck, every strand seemingly a different length than the one next to it.
She screamed.
“Oh my Gods!” came a voice from the bedroom. “Are you okay?”
Ceri was so shaken by her ridiculous mistake that she had not heard someone come into the room. That someone, as Ceri saw when she rushed into the bathroom, joining Ceri in front of the looking glass, was a Halfling. (Only the very top of her pink bun was visible.)
Ceri’s new roommate.
“Oh, you’ve really gone and messed it up,” said the Halfling.
“Pardon?” said Ceri. She looked down at the girl, shocked to be spoken to in that way.
From her accent, the girl clearly wasn’t from Loegria, although there was nothing obviously foreign about her appearance. She was of fairy ancestry judging by her shell pink hair, and her other parent was likely human, judging by her full lips and soft jawline. There was a softness to her in general, in everything except her voice.
“Your hair,” said the Halfling. “Where is he?”
“Who?” Ceri was baffled by this girl.
“The guy that hurt you badly enough to make you screw yourself up like this. I know he exists. Or she, I guess, but probably he if we’re being honest. Hang on, let me get my stool. I’m Polliana, by the way. You can call me Ana.”
Well, Ana was right about one thing: there was a “guy.”
Ana carried a short stepping stool into the bathroom and set behind Ceri. “That’s better,” she said once she climbed on top. Now her entire face was visible in the looking glass.
“How did you know—”
“That it was a guy? It’s always a guy,” said Ana. Then she held out her hand. “Scissors.”
Ceri wasn’t sure if this was a good idea. The hair needed to be longer, not shorter. There was magic for that, but to maintain it day in and day out until her hair grew back on its own? Ceri had never tried to keep magic going for that long.
“Scissors,” repeated Ana. “Unless your mother is a hairdresser as well. But judging by the tears in your eyes, I think that’s unlikely.”
“Alright,” said Ceri. “But don’t take too much.”
“Go back in time and tell that to yourself from five minutes ago,” said Ana. “Still, I’ve seen worse. We can work with it.”
Ceri watched as Ana gripped sections of hair, carving into the bottoms of them in a way that looked entirely too chaotic to produce a good result.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” asked Ceri. “Shouldn’t you be trying to cut it straighter across than I managed, not less straight?”
“Just trust me,” said Ana as she continued, completely ignoring Ceri’s protests.
In fact, she ignored almost everything Ceri was doing—the sighing, the nervous tapping of her foot—everything except the movements of her head.
Ana gripped Ceri’s neck firmly. “Keep still.”
Ceri balked at both the touch and the command. Just who the hell did this Halfling think she was?
She was just about ready to let Ana know exactly who she was dealing with, “brand new Ceri” be damned, when the Halfling said, “Finished.”
The change was remarkable.
Ceri’s hair was still shorter than she had planned, but it now angled gently from the back of her head to her chin in a smooth, perfect line.
“This is magic,” said Ceri.
“No magic,” said Ana. “Just blending.”
“Thank you,” said Ceri sincerely. She awkwardly grabbed Ana’s arm. She wasn’t used to all this casual touching, but it seemed like people liked it, so she tried her best. “You saved me.”
Ana laughed. “I’ll have to tell my mom I saved someone from a hair emergency on move-in day. She’ll be so proud.”
Ceri followed Ana back into the room, where she spotted a huge trunk on the opposite side from hers.
It was nearly as big as Ana was. “How’d you get that in here?” asked Ceri.
“Oh, let me tell you about that.” Ana leaned towards Ceri, making a hand gesture like she was conducting an orchestra that emphasized every word. “The most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen carried it for me. He was kinda old: probably a parent, but I’m hoping it’s a professor. You should have seen me struggle on the train.”
“The what?”
“The train. Oh, right. The ‘rail-wheeler.’ You have the silliest names for things here.”
Definitely not from around here then. “Where are you from?”
“Turtle Island,” said Ana. “Part of what you call the ‘New World.’ My dad is from here though, a fairy of the Seelie Court. Are you from Norgate?”
Another person that didn’t recognize Ceri. It made sense, Ceri realized, although she hadn’t considered it as a possibility before arriving. Universities tended to attract people from all over the world. There was a good chance that many here wouldn’t recognize her.
She really liked that.
“No, I’m from Arcas Dyrne,” said Ceri. “Well, the castle nearby. My name is Princess Ceridwen of Loegria and Wilderise, but you may call me Ceri.”
She waited tensely, trying to anticipate Ana’s response.
“Stop it. You’re kidding,” said Ana. Her voice had raised considerably in pitch. “A princess?”
“I’m quite serious,” said Ceri.
“I’m supposed to be anti-monarchy on account of the fairy court interference, but…a real princess?” Ana’s eyes were wide with wonder. “From a castle? It’s like the fairy stories my dad told me. I can’t believe my roommate is a princess!”
She hopped up onto her bed and jumped up and down on it. “Come on!” she called to Ceri.
Ceri didn’t know what to do. Ana was bouncing on the bed like a child, giddy with joy. Ceri hadn’t felt that kind of freedom—well, ever. If she had ever bounced on a bed, she couldn’t remember it. Her childhood was basically repetition after repetition of the word “no.”
“Ceri, or should I say ‘Princess Ceridwen,’ don’t leave me to jump alone! You’re pretty small. It won’t hurt the bed. Come on!”
Ceri moved towards the bed. Ana paused long enough to help her up.
It was difficult to balance on the mattress, but Ceri just managed it.
“Jump!” said Ana.
Ceri bounced her heels a little, hesitantly.
“You won’t hurt me. Take my hand and jump!”
Ceri did as she said. It felt odd at first, and it was hard for Ceri to fight that nagging feeling that someone was going to come in and yell at them at any moment.
But no one came, and after a few bounces, she forgot to worry about it.
“This is fun!” said Ceri through her giggles.
“No one can tell us what to do here,” said Ana. “We make the rules now. If we want to eat chocolate cake for breakfast, we can. If we want to jump on the bed three times a day, no one is stopping us. We’re free!”
“Free!” cried Ceri, and for the first time ever, she felt it.
Ceri and Ana spent the day unpacking Ana’s things and sharing stories of their upbringings. Ana had come to Winwold to connect with her father’s side of the family, who were from a nearby wood. She hadn’t thought much of what she’d study yet, which gave Ceri a lot of comfort: she wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what she wanted to do.
They had dinner together in the dining hall. Ana was pleasantly surprised by the food options, even if they didn’t quite live up to her father’s fairy cooking.
“I mean, fairy food is basically cheating,” said Ana. “There’s this kind of grey goop that tastes like whatever makes you happy, and they put a dab of it in everything. Not too much though. There’s nothing worse than having dinner and being literally unable to stop smiling long enough to eat anything. Ask me how I know.”
Just as they were clearing their trays, Ceri spotted Leo coming into the dining hall.
“Who’s that?” whispered Ana as Ceri waved shyly. “He’s cute. Did you already meet someone cute? I can’t believe they let you come a day early.”
“He’s an elf though,” said Ceri, not acknowledging the part where Ana had called him cute. “He’s probably a lot older than us.”
“Even better,” said Ana with awe. “I’ll leave you to it.” Ana darted off in the opposite direction.
“No, stay—” said Ceri, but she was already gone.
“Hi,” said Leo when he reached her. He was carrying a little box in his hands. Maybe he’d brought his dinner?
“Hi,” said Ceri.
“Your hair,” said Leo. “It looks amazing…ly good. It looks good. No, great. It’s good.” He grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night. Up late running the numbers.”
Ceri wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “Er, thanks,” she said. “Anything good in the numbers?”
“They’re very promising,” said Leo. “Though a bit surprising. Most of the items had no change, but the horn showed a large increase, and there was a small difference with you as well.” He cleared his throat. “Speaking of, I was hoping I’d see you. I wanted to thank you for your help last night—”
“It was nothing,” said Ceri. “Happy to be of service.”
“Still,” said Leo, holding out the box. “I appreciate it. This is for you.”
Ceri was taken aback. “For me?”
He’d gotten her something?
“It’s not much,” said Leo. “I—well—open it,” he said, looking down.
Ceri lifted the lid from the box. Inside were two brownish lumps with yellow centers.
“Are these egg tarts?”
Ceri just barely recognized them. They were crudely made, to say the least.
“I found the recipe—well, the library gave me a book of recipes from the Far East. It gave it to me eventually , after a number of unnecessary insults…anyway. I’m not much of a cook. The recipe made twelve, but these were the best two.”
Ceri pulled one of the misshapen egg tarts from the box.
“You don’t have to eat it now,” said Leo, holding up a hand to stop her, but Ceri had already taken a bite.
It was far better than it looked. The pastry had maybe a bit too much chew, but the custard was exceptional: smooth and creamy, with just the right amount of caramelization.
“These are my favorite,” said Ceri, her eyes closed in pleasure after she finished the whole thing in two bites. “Did you eat the others already?”
“No,” said Leo. He smiled in relief, and it dimpled his rosy cheeks. Ana was right: he was cute. “They’re back at the lab. It’s the building out on the edge of the woods. I’ve got to get back to work tonight to help Professor Marin. If you wanted to stop by…”
Ceri hesitated. She still hadn’t managed to see her brother, and there was a chance he would be there with the Professor. And those egg tarts. It was hard to deny their appeal.
Plus Leo would be working, so it seemed like there would be little opportunity for any awkward moments. Not that the moment last night under the stars had been awkward.
Not that Ceri had thought about it at all since. That would be ridiculous.
“Alright,” said Ceri. “Let me run back to my room and let my roommate know. I’ll meet you there.”