Dean pushed open the half-closed door and was greeted by a square, white room. A floor-to-ceiling window took up most of the southern wall, with a single bed on each side pressed against the wall.
In between, there was a fairly wide aisle, but at the moment, it was mostly filled by a large, long writing desk. It was clear that the desk was shared between the two beds, as Dean could see some backpacks, magazines, and other assorted daily necessities on it.
Besides that, there were two chairs in the room, as well as a three-person sofa against the wall—this was Dean's new freshman dorm at Stanford University.
As he stood at the door surveying his surroundings, the tall white young man lying on one of the single beds finally noticed the guest at the door.
"Hey, if I'm not mistaken, you must be Dean Price?" the white young man took off his headphones, casually moving his Sony Walkman to the side.
"Marcus White?" Dean put his luggage down and walked over to bump fists with him.
