The humid heat hit my face as soon as we got out of the taxi. I held my suitcase tightly as I looked down the main entrance of Stanford University. The bustle around me was overwhelming: families saying goodbye, students dragging boxes and suitcases, employees handing out maps of the campus. It was impossible to ignore the energy that permeated the place.
Although Lindsay seemed fascinated with the atmosphere, I just wanted to finish the whole registration process. There were too many things to do, and crowds had never been my ideal setting.
"This is chaos," I murmured, more to myself than to her.
We made our way to the registration building, where a sizable line of students was already forming. As we moved forward, my mind traveled between the next steps: housing, class schedule, exploring campus. All this seemed like a monumental task. I had never considered myself someone who adapted easily to change.
Once inside, a volunteer handed us a welcome packet containing a map of the campus, information about the dormitories, and a schedule of activities. We were also assigned a time to pick up our room keys.
Lindsay flipped through the documents enthusiastically, but I focused on the essentials: accommodation.
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The building they were talking about was at the other end of campus. We walked in silence, although she seemed to enjoy the tour. I, on the other hand, continued to evaluate the people who passed by: some seemed just as disoriented as me, others acted as if they had known this place forever.
When we arrived at the key distribution stand, we were greeted by an upper-year student with a smile too wide for my liking.
"Name?" He asked, tablet in hand.
"Sack Steele.
He typed quickly before handing me an envelope with my name on it.
"It's your turn at Wilbur Hall." Arroyo Building. Floor 2.
I nodded without saying much, put the envelope away, and waited for Lindsay to get her directions as well. We hadn't been assigned the same building, but that didn't mean I was going to leave her alone.
"Shall I accompany you to your bedroom?" I asked, without looking directly at her.
Lindsay looked up from her envelope, surprised.
"Really?" Her tone was warm, as if she didn't expect it.
"Yes, it's not a big deal. "I started walking, hoping she would follow me.
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Lindsay's building, Stern Hall, was decorated with reddish bricks and surrounded by a small garden. As we approached, she was looking around with fascination, as if trying to etch every detail in her memory. When we got to the door, she checked the electronic key he had been given.
"Thank you for coming with me," she said as she opened the door. The sincere tone of her voice almost made me uncomfortable.
"Don't get used to it. I gave her a half-smile before turning to leave.
"See you later, Sack. Her voice sounded funny as she walked into her new space.
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Wilbur Hall turned out to be a modern building, surrounded by trees and well-manicured paths. Inside, the atmosphere was lively: students unpacking, university staff offering help. In my flat, I found my room without a problem. I opened the door with the electronic key and paused for a moment in the doorway.
It was simple but functional: two beds, two desks, a shared wardrobe and a window that looked out onto an interior courtyard. My roommate hadn't arrived yet. Better. I'd rather have time to settle in than deal with someone else.
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As I finished organizing my things, I heard footsteps in the hallway and a voice calling from outside.
"Hello! Anyone here?
I peeked out to find a tall guy, with a friendly smile and a backpack slung over his shoulder. He seemed to be one of the mentors assigned to help the new students.
"Sack Steele, right?" He said, reading my name on a list. "I'm Nathan, your resident mentor. We are organizing a meeting in the common room later, so you can get to know each other.
I nodded, though I wasn't sure I wanted to go.
"Thank you. I'll think about it.
Nathan didn't seem bothered by my lack of enthusiasm. He just smiled and went on his way, calling out to other names in the hallway.
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It wasn't long before he heard a loud sound across the room. I turned and saw an African-American boy walking in, pushing a suitcase that seemed to be on the verge of bursting. He had an athletic build, short hair, and a serious expression, though his eyes shone with a hint of curiosity.
"Sack Steele?" He asked directly, setting down his suitcase next to the opposite bed. His voice was deep, with a tone that made it clear that he did not like to beat around the bush.
"It's me. You must be Marcus Reid. I looked directly at him, without hesitation, as I crossed my arms.
Marcus raised an eyebrow, surprised by my confident answer. He extended a large hand to me. I shook her firmly.
"Good, Marcus. It looks like we'll share a room. I hope you know how to keep things in order. I don't like clutter. My tone was neutral, but full of intention.
"Oh, yes?" He said with a slight smile, evaluating me. "Don't worry, Steele. I'm not one to cause trouble. As long as each one respects the other's space, we will be fine.
"Perfect. Then there will be no problems. I turned to my bed, ending the initial conversation.
Marcus let out a brief laugh, as if my attitude challenged him in some way.
"You know, Steele, I don't usually trust people the first time, but you—" You have something different. You don't seem to be one of those who bend easily.
I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, evaluating him as well.
"Trust is not given away, Marcus. You win. And I don't seek to impress anyone.
Marcus nodded slowly, his smile widening.
"I like that. A straightforward guy. Let's get along.
"I hope so," I replied as I reorganized my things.