Through a veil of chestnut hair, she peeks up at me. Her brown eyes, which are covered by her hot-pink rimmed glasses, are shimmering with unshed tears. “Yeah, I think I’m okay. You just scared the crap out of me.” She rolls up the leg of her pants to reveal the huge purple bruise that I just gave her. Gasping at the sight of it, I run to the freezer to get her some ice.
Kneeling down to her side, I say, “Here, use this.” I press the half-eaten container of Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey to her enormously swollen kneecap.
She just cocks an eyebrow up at me and says, “Thanks.”
“Sorry, it was all I had. I just got here yesterday.” I slink down next to her and she smiles weakly at me. “Who are you anyway?” I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not concealing it well.
“Me? I’m Peyton. I guess I’m your new roommate.” She holds out a small hand for me to shake and I just stare at it in disbelief. Why hadn’t I thought of this? Of course, the college would fill Maddy’s place. There’s no reason to let a perfectly good room go unused. I guess I just would have liked some advanced notice or something like that.
Tentatively shaking her hand, I say, “Oh, well, hi then. Sorry for busting your kneecap. I didn’t mean to go all Tonya Harding on you. I’m Melanie, by the way.” Okay so we’re not off to the best start but she seems nice enough, and if she can get over my attempted assault, I’m fairly certain she’ll think I’m nice too. Hopefully.
I stand before her and hold my hand out to help her get up from the floor. “Come on. Let me help you over to the couch.” Peyton wraps her arm around my shoulder as I wrap mine around her waist. Hobbling over the couch, she occasionally winces or gasps in pain. I guess I got her pretty good.
I put a pillow under her knee as she stretches out on the couch and get her a glass of water and some Advil from the bathroom medicine cabinet. “Here. These should help with the swelling.”
Peyton looks down at the pills, like she’s afraid to take them from me. Fine, we didn’t get off to the best start, but I’m not going to drug her or anything. I shove the pills into her hand, feeling slightly pissed off that she would think that of me.
She inspects them. Yes, she actually reads the lettering on the pills, and when she’s satisfied with the knowledge that they are, in fact, Advil and not some kind of whacky hallucinogen, she swallows them down with a gulp of water.
“Thanks, Melanie.” She hands me back the glass and scans the room, inspecting it. “It’s a nice place here. Anyone else live here besides you?” Peyton tips her chin in my direction.
Folding my legs underneath my body, I situate myself on the beat up, old arm chair across from her on the sofa. “Yeah, Cammie and Lia will be here tomorrow. They share the other room. They’re cousins actually.” And now that Peyton is here and knowing that Cammie and Lia will be back tomorrow, I’m happy that I won’t be alone any longer. I think it’ll be good for me to have my girls back.
“They nice?” She chances an investigative question.
Suddenly, I’m anxious for them to come back to the suite. I didn’t realize until just now how much I’ve missed them. “They’re the best, actually. Really sweet and funny.” A slightly nervous chuckling escapes past my lips.
Unless you’re a bitch to them. You know, like you’re being to me right now.
“Cool. So I guess that means I’m rooming with you.” Again, her tone is cautious, on edge almost. “What happened to your old roommate? Did you bash her over the head or something? Scare her away?” She’s trying to be comical with her question, but she’s still guarded and on edge.
What the freak!? Doesn’t she realize I thought she was going to attack me?
Just as I’m about to lay into her, she breaks out laughing. Through her giggling, she says, “Oh my God! The look on your face. Please tell me that you know I’m kidding!”
I can’t hold it in any longer; laughter bubbles out of my mouth, and tears are streaming down both of our cheeks. In our fit of hysterics, I bump into her knee and she pulls back from me in pain.
“Oh no! I’m sorry.” I feel horrible. I really didn’t mean to hurt her.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m fine. Calm down.” Peyton squeezes my hand that I just placed on top of her bruised knee. “I’ll live, Melanie. We all make mistakes. We don’t usually bash our new roommates as a means of greeting them, but you know, it’s all good.” Her bright and cheery smile helps me feel a little better about my attack. The mood seems a little lighter and some of the guilt has lifted. I just don’t like the idea of inflicting pain on anyone – accidental or not.
Of course my mind drifts to Bryan and how much I know I’m going to hurt him. Peyton’s voice breaks through my mist of self-pity.
“So what really happened to your old roommate? Homesickness? Couldn’t take the cold?” Peyton shimmies back up against the couch and folds her arms across her chest as she awaits my response.
I don’t even know where to begin. It could take me two novels to explain Maddy’s story so I just opt for a simple version.
“Maddy is my best friend. She had to move home.” I shrug my shoulders as I add, “Health reasons.” I can see Peyton and I being friends, but I don’t feel right divulging Maddy’s past. It’s not mine to tell.
A genuine look of concerns flashes across Peyton’s very pretty face. “Oh no. I hope she’s going to be okay.” Her hand is clenched at her chest and I can tell that she means her words. There’s no false pretense in her tone.
“Yeah, she’s going to be just fine.” I know Maddy will be more than just fine, but I can’t help that I’m going to miss her terribly.
“So then it’s you and me, huh?” she repeats her earlier question regarding who she’ll be rooming with.
“It looks that way. Hey, listen. I’m really sorry about that.” I eye her knee and then the door indicating my earlier attack. “I wasn’t expecting you at all, so I thought someone was breaking in. I promise I’m not usually violent.” My lips curl at the corners and I hope that my self-deprecation will help keep the mood light.
It does, marginally at least. Peyton smirks back at me and lowers her now ice-cream-covered leg to the floor. I move immediately to take the container away and bring her a damp cloth to clean the mess.
“Thanks. I think I’ll survive.” Peyton wipes up the sticky mess and a bit more of the tension fades away. “Are those yours?” She points to the boxed set of the entire Sex and the City series that is strewn about the coffee table.
“Yes. I love them.” I can’t help but gush over my girls. I love them all, and while most women identify with Carrie – she is the main character, after all – I feel very connected to Charlotte and her quest for perfection. I never share that with anyone. They just think I love the show for all the hunky men. They’re not so bad either, but for me the real draw is Charlotte.
Peyton reaches out for the DVD case and reads the back of it. “Hmm, never seen it.”
“What? You’ve never seen this show?” I try my best not to sound like Gary Coleman, with the ‘whatchotalkinbout’ but I’m completely shocked that she has never seen Sex and the City.
Peyton just shrugs her shoulders and places the box back on the coffee table. “No, sorry. Just not much of a television watcher, I guess. I’m kind of a book worm.” She adjusts her hot-pink glasses as she says the last part. “My nose has been in a book since I knew that letters made up words. And I’ve spent the better part of the last three years working my ass off for the Whitman grant for grad students.”