Miryana's sense of bliss, like everything else in life, was transient. She trailed behind her parents, as they got her established, lightly quarreling all the way.
“Why aren't you getting her textbooks used, Greg?”
“As you can see, I would if they weren't completely defaced.”
“This place is a pit. What are they even spending that exorbitant tuition on.” Not like you're paying my tuition, Miryana silently complained, wishing she could say it out loud.
“Her dorm is this way.”
“Can you even read a map? It's obviously over here. Come on pokey.” Her mother narrowed her eyes but otherwise said nothing in response to the despised nickname.
At long last, Miryana took a deep breath. Alone in her brand new dorm room, still to meet her roommate. Her parents gone, after waylaying a passing upperclassman to take a picture of them. And pinching her when she didn't smile.
Gently she traced the lines of her lofted bed, the wood worn smooth with years of use, and vaulted into it. The bed released a satisfying groan that echoed her own. Two years. All by herself. No more parents. Just her and her dance. What could be more perfect?
Then, in the way of things, the door opened.