The block is overflowing with humanity. There are wide-eyed college freshmen flooding both sidewalks and spilling out onto the streets. Their proud parents are double parked in their cars, helping their kids unpack their bags and thousands of other Bed Bath & Beyond products into large containers on wheels.
At the Housing office, a long line of eager and tired freshmen wraps the outside of the building. We wait in silence for close to an hour until it’s finally our turn.
A freckled, tired girl with a tight bun greets us with a lackluster enthusiasm.
“How can I help you?” she asks, barely looking up. Her name tag says Tina.
“Hi, Tina. My daughter has been assigned to a suite with her ex-boyfriend. The whole situation is very complicated and she can’t possibly stay there.”
“Okay, let me see what I can do.” Tina asks for my name and ID. I still don’t have my student ID, so I hand her my license. She types and scrolls and hums and then types again. Mom and I just wait.
“No, I’m sorry. We don’t have anywhere else to relocate you.”
“What?!” I don’t believe it. “How can that be? Are you sure?”
“Yes, every dorm is filled.” Tina shrugs. She clearly doesn’t understand the direness of this situation.
“But you don’t understand. I can’t live there! He’s my ex-boyfriend. It was a bad breakup. I can’t see him again. Not every day!”
Suddenly, something I said gets Tina’s attention. “Do you have a restraining order against him?”
“Restraining order? Why would I have a restraining order?”
“Was he abusive?” Tina clarifies. But she’s still talking in Sanskrit.
“Abusive? No, of course not.”
“Well, then there’s nothing we can do. You two were matched according to our compatibility algorithm. Those things are typically pretty accurate.”
“Well, of course they were compatible.” Mom steps in. “That’s why they dated for two years. But they’ve broken up. You can’t really expect my daughter to live with her ex-boyfriend for a whole year?”
“There’s no need to get an attitude, ma’am,” Tina says sternly. “And no, I don’t expect her to live there for a year. Just one semester. In November, you can apply again and get reassigned. So that will be only four months.”
“I can’t live with him for one semester!”
“Alice, there’s a lot of people waiting. That’s your only option. Unless your mom wants to rent you some crappy, bed-bug infested studio apartment on Amsterdam for $1500 a month.”
Before I can reply, the guy waiting behind me in line pushes his way past me to the counter and starts complaining to Tina about the size of his mattress.
I look at my mom. She shrugs. Defeated, we head toward the exit.
A big part of me wants to stomp my feet and insist on that studio on Amsterdam. Maybe if I make it a big enough deal then my parents would cave. But $1500 a month is way more than the dorm. And after casually looking around Craigslist the week before, I know that Tina’s not much off on that price or the quality of the possible places.
“So what do you want to do?” Mom asks.
“I want to get a latte and go to sleep. Then I want to wake up and find out this was all just some bad dream.”
She hugs me. I don’t pull away. She smells of Chanel No. 5, as always, her favorite perfume, and it reminds me of home.
“Daddy will be really happy if you suddenly decide to transfer to USC,” she whispers.
“I know. But I won’t be.” I smile. “Okay. Okay. Enough with the pity party.”
I pull away from her.
“It’s just one semester, right? One semester. I can do that. I think. How bad could it be?”
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