Dormitory Dearest: A Sweet Lesbian Romance Read online

  “Oh!” I said. “Yeah, I’m sorry, I’m here to pay my dues for the Shakespeare trip.”

  “Terrific,” said Hosannah, pulling the keyboard back out. She looked into the computer monitor and clicked around a bit with the mouse. “So it’s $180 for the tickets and the hotel. Do you know which shows you want to see?”

  “I have my slip right here,” I said, reaching down into my jeans and pulling out a folded piece of paper. Between the paper was also my check for the cost. I slid them together across the desk toward Hosannah.

  “Thanks,” she said, looking down at the slip on which I marked which plays I wanted to see. “King Lear and West Side Story,” said Hosannah, raising her eyes to me and offering up a glint of joy. “That’s what I’m seeing, too.” In Stratford for the Shakespeare festival, between a handful of theaters, they not only did actual Shakespeare shows but also various musicals and other productions. ALOHA advised us to see one of the Shakespeare plays, which were always high quality, as well as something lighter because those shows were always fun.

  “Really?” I said. “I love both plays. I’m excited.”

  “Likewise, Natasha,” said Hosannah, typing my information into a spreadsheet on her computer. She affixed my slip and check with a paperclip and slid them into her desk drawer. “Have you ever been to Stratford before?”

  “No,” I said.

  “It’s awesome,” said Hosannah. “We’re going during the Dragon Boat Festival, which is super cool, and there’s this really neat toy store there. Like, even if you don’t care about toys, it’s just a really fun experience.”

  “Do all the juniors like you go?” I asked.

  “Nah,” said Hosannah. “It’s usually mostly freshmen. But I’ve gone the last two years with the program. I love theater and Shakespeare. I’m an English major.”

  “I’m an English major, too,” I beamed. I was thrilled that I was connecting with Hosannah though I still couldn’t tell what she thought of me yet.

  “We have a lot in common,” smiled Hosannah.

  “Do we?” I said, letting my excitement show. Hosannah let out an amused giggle.

  “What English class are you in right now?” she asked with interest.

  “I’m in 201H,” I said.

  “Honors,” she said, putting on an impressed face. “Is that taught by McGregor?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m enjoying it so far.”

  “I was in that very same class,” said Hosannah.

  “Wow,” I said. “That’s really cool. If I have questions, can I ask you about them?”

  “Totally,” she said, her smile warm and inviting. I could tell she was a good person.

  “Maybe we could hang out in Stratford, too,” I said, not sure if I was overstepping my bounds but too excited about meeting Hosannah that I couldn’t help myself.

  “Maybe,” she said, grinning with a hint of mystery.

  “Oh, that reminds me,” I said. “I had another question about the trip.”

  “Shoot,” she said.

  “What’s the hotel situation like?” I said. “I mean, who do we share rooms with?”

  “The rooms we get are all two full beds,” she said. “You can share a room with whomever you like, though not with the opposite sex,” said Hosannah. “I mean, we’re all technically adults here but some of the parents might flip if we allowed coed sleeping arrangements.” She rolled her eyes.

  “So just, like, my roommate?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” said Hosannah. “Most people just share with their current roommate.”

  “All right,” I said.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with?” asked Hosannah. Her face revealed a charming glow, like she was there to serve me, like I wasn’t an annoying freshman asking silly questions.

  “No,” I said, pushing my chair back and beginning to stand.

  “It’s was really great meeting you, Natasha,” she said, sticking out her head toward me. I took it in my own and we shook.

  “It was nice meeting you, too,” I said.

  “I’m in room 326 upstairs if you want to stop by sometime,” she said. “I don’t hang out in the lobby much anymore.”

  “Is that just a freshmen thing?” I asked sheepishly.

  “Yeah, kinda,” said Hosannah, grinning.

  “Room 326,” I reiterated. “Thanks Hosannah. I’ll talk to you soon!”

  “Bye Natasha,” she said with a single wave.

  I smiled at her and turned from her desk, walking out of the ALOHA office and trying to steady my frantically beating heart. I was anxious and excited, ecstatic to have met Hosannah and the possibility of making a friend that seemed so much like me.

  *

  Whitney and I slinked together through the lobby of Leopold Hall, each of us dressed down for the night in lounge pants, t-shirts, and fluffy slippers. The lobby was the social place to be for us young ALOHA students. The couches had been rearranged from their usual positions, the chairs pulled around, people congregating around the short wooden tables to play cards, to eat cheap pizza picked up from the shop across the street, and to laugh and fluff each others feathers. It was a great place to get to know the other students in the program and to make friends that could, presumably, last a lifetime.

  “I want to go talk to Justin,” said Whitney to me in a whisper. “Looks like he’s over there on the floor,” she said, pointing to a spot on the carpet where the seating had been pushed away and Justin sat with a couple of his friends from the program. He had a notebook open and was scribbling into it as they talked enthusiastically with one another.

  “We shouldn’t bug them,” I said guardedly. “I mean, it looks like they’re working on something.”

  “Guys like it when girls talk to them,” said Whitney matter-of-factly, ruffling up her blonde hair. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind being interrupted for a moment to talk to me.” It was hard to fault Whitney’s logic. She was a pretty girl and I could easily see how any of the guys would be interested in her affections.

  “I suppose,” I acceded.

  “C’mon,” she said. “Let’s go.” Whitney took me by the hand and dragged me across the lobby toward where Justin and his crew sat on the floor. As we approached, they looked up to us and ceased their conversation.

  Justin was a cool looking guy with short blonde hair, messily spiked up, and gaunt facial features. He sat across from Tim and Henry, two of the other boys in our program. I had gotten to know Henry a bit as he was in my English class and also an English major. Whitney smiled sweetly as she looked down to Justin, trying to put on some sort of cutesy girl act. I just tried to remain calm.

  “Hey Whitney,” said Justin.

  “Hello Justin,” she said. “We’re not interrupting, are we?”

  “Not at all,” he said. “Do you ladies know Tim and Henry?”

  “Tim is a theater major,” said Whitney, looking over to him. “I think I’ve seen you around the auditorium.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I saw you at the, uh, audition for Comedy of Errors, right?”

  “Yep,” said Whitney. “A lot of Shakespeare going around lately.”

  “Truth,” said Tim.

  “And Natasha and I know each other,” said Henry. “From class.”

  “Yeah,” I said quietly.

  “Perfect!” exclaimed Justin. “Our own little band of miscreants,” he joked.

  “Can we sit?” asked Whitney, not waiting for Justin’s response. She lowered herself to the ground near him and gave me a stern look indicating that I should follow suit.

  “Of course,” said Justin. “The more the merrier.”

  I eased myself down to the floor as well, sitting crosslegged and joining in the circle. I felt really out of place, even though I knew I shouldn’t. I was simply acting as Whitney’s sidekick in her attempt to flirt with the boy she was interested in. Peering around the circle, I caught Henry looking at me and then swiftly looking away once I noticed.

 
“So what are we working on?” asked Whitney.

  “We’re storyboarding a movie,” said Justin, returning his attentions to the notebook near his white-socked feet. “We’re putting it together for the ALOHA group project.”

  “What’s it about?” said Whitney. She kept her eyes trained on Justin, watching his every move, basically ignoring the rest of us.

  “It’s going to be an anti-advertisement for ALOHA,” said Henry. “Like, a comedy.”

  “A droll sendup,” said Justin in a British accent. He laughed at himself. “No, sort of like a Christopher Guest movie.”

  “Christopher Guest?” I said. “I don’t know him.”

  “Best in Show?” said Justin. “Waiting for Guffman?”

  “I love Waiting for Guffman,” exclaimed Whitney. “Hilarious!”

  “I’ve heard of them,” I said.

  “You’ve got to watch them,” said Tim. “They’re super funny.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “We’ll have a watching party,” said Justin quickly, looking over and catching eyes with Whitney. It was obvious that he knew she was sweet on him and his attitude indicated reciprocation. “Tim and Henry have a swanky room.”

  “Yep,” said Tim.

  “Awesome,” said Whitney. “I’m in.”

  “Natasha?” asked Justin, dramatically raising an eyebrow.

  “Sure,” I said, grinning, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, I’ll watch them.”

  “Perfectly excellent,” said Justin, again in a British accent. He was an animated guy, obviously interested in being the leader, the life of the party, the entertainer.

  “Are you guys going to Stratford?” asked Whitney, deftly changing the subject.

  “We are,” said Justin. “And looking forward to it.”

  I heard the main entrance door of Leopold open up with a loud crunching sound. Looking up reflexively to make note of the sound, I saw Hosannah entering the lobby. She handed her student ID over to the desk person to scan and she waited. Dressed in athletic clothing, some running shorts and a tank top, Hosannah’s dark hair was matted down with a light sweat and held up behind her head in a single braid. I couldn’t help but stare at her as the group I was with continued talking, gazing across the lobby at her pretty pale face and then down to her bare legs, thin but muscled at her calves.

  “Tasha,” said Whitney, breaking me from my reverie. I looked over to her like I’d just been woken up from sleep. “Did you hear me?” she asked with a bit of annoyance in her voice.

  “Sorry,” I said. I looked at Whitney’s eyes and then began to look past her, out toward Hosannah once again.

  “I said that we should totally hang out with the boys when we’re at the Shakespeare festival,” she said. “They’re going to be seeing Lear too.”

  “Okay,” I said absently. “Hey, sorry to be weird,” I said, pushing myself up off the floor. “I need to go talk to that girl for a minute about some ALOHA stuff.”

  “Do your thing,” said Justin.

  “Tasha,” said Whitney in an annoyed murmur, giving me a look. But I didn’t really care. I wanted to catch Hosannah before she ran upstairs.

  “Sorry guys,” I said with a half smile. “I’ll catch you later.” Without another word, I moved away from the group on the floor, weaving through another small gathering of people, keeping my eyes focused on Hosannah as she pushed her student ID card into the inner pocket of her running shorts and began her walk toward the stairwell.

  I quickened my pace, ambling eagerly across the floor in my slippers, trying to catch up.

  “Hosannah,” I called out as I closed in on her. Once she heard her name, she stopped and turned around. Our eyes met.

  “Natasha,” she said with a soft smile. “Hey there.”

  “Hi,” I said, stepping up to her. “Just get back from the gym?”

  “Yeah,” she said, looking down at herself. “Sorry, I’m all sweaty and gross.” She smoothed her hand over her hair in an attempt to wrangle the stray strands.

  “That’s okay,” I said. We stood there in silence for a moment until Hosannah’s face started to show mild bother. She was patient, almost infinitely so, but I just wasn’t sure where I was going with this.

  “Do you have a question or something?” she asked finally.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “Ugh, yeah, I mean, yes I wanted to see what you were up to.” I could feel my stomach sinking, like I had made a huge mistake. I felt like a naive idiot. What was I even doing approaching Hosannah like this?

  “Well,” said Hosannah, her face lightening. I could tell she felt for me. She wasn’t offended by my nervousness. It was like she understood it. “I need to go upstairs and shower.”

  “All right,” I said, nodding slowly.

  “But I was just going to stream some TV shows and hang out in my room,” she went on, tilting her head slightly and looking off. “I mean, if you want to join me that would be cool.”

  “Really?” I said, trying not to sound too eager. But I was inexplicably drawn to Hosannah. She was so cool, seemed so put together. I wanted desperately to get to know her better.

  “Yeah, of course,” she smiled at me. “Give me, like, 30 minutes and then come knock on my door. Do you remember my room number?”

  “Yes,” I said. “326.”

  “Right,” she grinned. “So let me clean up and then we’ll hang. Cool?”

  “Cool,” I said.

  “Terrific,” said Hosannah. “I’m gonna go. See you soon, Natasha.”

  “Bye,” I said, watching as Hosannah turned from me and bounded up the stairwell, the light fabric of her running shorts swaying against her skin as she ascended. I bit my lip softly and stood there, transfixed, replaying our conversation over again in my head.

  “Hey!” I heard from behind me and then felt a push against my shoulder blade. “Wake up, dummy.”

  “What?” I said, turning around and seeing Whitney standing there with me.

  “Are you going crazy or something?” she asked. “What’s the deal? Why were you talking with that ALOHA office girl?”

  “Oh,” I said, looking down toward my feet, feeling a hint of shyness. “I was talking with her recently,” I said. “And she’s an English major, too, so I’m trying to get advice from her.”

  “All right,” said Whitney suspiciously, giving me a critical eye. I could tell she wasn’t fully convinced. “What’s her name?”

  “Hosannah,” I said.

  “Hosannah?” repeated Whitney with a bit of a laugh. “Like the song? ‘Oh Hosannah, don’t you cry for me!’” Whitney sung the lyric with some animation in her face.

  “‘I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee!’” I said, mimicking her singing and unable to stifle my own laughter. It was fun to giggle together. “No,” I said as my laughter faded. “That’s Susannah!”

  “Whatever!” said Whitney.

  “Whatever, you!” I countered, giving Whitney a soft push.

  “Are you gonna come back and talk with me and the boys?” asked Whitney. “I need you there to be my foil.”

  “Your foil?” I said. “Like, so you look good in comparison?” I was just joking with her, but my quick little conversation with Hosannah had given me a revitalized sense of confidence.

  “Of course not,” she said. “Maybe a little.”

  “Maybe a little,” I said in a mocking tone.

  “C’mon Tasha,” Whitney whined. “Be my wing-woman.”

  “I can’t,” I said. “I need to go back to the room for a few and then I’m heading upstairs to hang out with Hosannah.”

  “Fine,” said Whitney, rolling her eyes. “All right. Go be with your new buddy.”

  “Thanks,” I said with a sly smile. “I’ll see you, roomie.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Whitney, waving me off.

  I grinned once more at her and then swiftly scurried along the hallway, making my way back to my dorm to prepare for my hang date wi
th Hosannah. I could feel myself growing more and more excited as each minute passed.

  *

  Climbing up to the third floor in Leopold Hall, I rounded a corner and dragged my slippered feet across the carpet as I made my way down toward Hosannah’s room. I had changed out of my baggy school t-shirt and into a more flattering fitted green tank top and wore a small grey hoodie over top of it. With more care than usual, I had put my dark red hair up in a bun and stuck two wooden chopsticks in to help hold in place. I brought a water bottle with me in one hand and a book in the other. As I stepped up to room 326, my heart racing, my stomach twisting, I took a deep breath before I gave a soft knock at the door.

  After a moment that seemed like many moments, the door creaked open and Hosannah appeared on the other side with a grin on her face. She still looked shower-damp, her dark hair appearing black, long and straight and wet, and she held a brush in one hand. Hosannah, too, wore a tank top, although her’s was white, and she had on a navy blue stretchy skirt.

  “Yo,” she said casually, running the brush through her hair. “Come on in.”

  “Thanks,” I said, slipping into her room as she closed the door behind me. Looking around, I was impressed at how much space she had. I mean, it wasn’t a ton or anything, but it was about the same size as the room that Whitney and I shared. The difference was that on the first floor we had tall ceilings that helped accommodate a loft. Hosannah’s room was of normal height. Still, with only one person’s stuff, it looked big.

  “Have you ever been in a single before?” she asked casually, still brushing her hair. I’m sure she noticed me looking around.

  “No,” I said. “It’s pretty cool.”

  “You generally can’t get them until you’re a junior,” she said, moving over to her dresser to set her brush down on top of it. “You know, it’s like a seniority thing.”

  “I understand,” I said.

  “I tried to get one as a sophomore,” she said. “No dice.” No dice. That almost made me laugh. I had heard the expression before but didn’t quite get it. “What?” she said with an uncertain smile growing on her lips.

  “No dice,” I repeated, almost mockingly so.