The Rich Girl Dorm Trap

The second I stepped into Room 501, that clean, crisp book smell hit me.

My three roommates sat at their desks, quietly turning pages.

The place was spotless. No clothes or makeup everywhere. No disgusting, trashed bathroom.

No one would slap me awake at night.

No one would send me out for food mid-study.

No one would knock my teeth loose over socks.

Even if these girls looked like they had their own quirks—

But this?

This was the college life I wanted.

Free. Bright. Wide open.

I slid my suitcase into the closet. Worried I smelled, I ducked into the bathroom for a quick shower.

The second I opened the door—

Bang!

A party popper went off over my head.

My roommates stood there with a cake, grinning. "Welcome to the 501 bookworm dorm!"

Their bright, open faces made my eyes sting. The cake was small, "501" written on top, a little crooked.

"Before this, nobody wanted to room with us. Said we were depressing. Study monsters." A pause. "We hope you stay with us a long time, Mia."

I swallowed it down and took the cake. "Of course. I really admire smart people."

We spread a blanket on the floor and sat in a circle, sharing the cake.

We traded hometowns, school stories, future plans.

The weight that'd crushed me for four years finally lifted, like it blew away.

My new life had started.

That night, lying in bed, I saw Chloe's post.

A secondhand LV bag.

Caption: [Rich dorm roomie is way too generous. Grabbed her food, got an LV in return. I love 502!]

Of course she didn't stop to wonder why rich girls would choose a four-person dorm.

Not my problem.

I turned off my phone and let the quiet sink in. Sleep hit fast.

In both lives, it was the best sleep I'd had in four years.

***

Early the next morning, someone started pounding on the 501 door.

Chloe screamed from outside, "Mia, get out here. Mia, you tramp, get out here."

I opened it. She stormed in.

"Why didn't you tell me those three rich girls are disgusting? They don't even flush. Used pads everywhere. Bras and underwear all over the place. And they smoke in the bathroom with no fan. I opened the door—it was like a chimney. I couldn't even open my eyes."

Yeah, their families were rich.

But they were all abandoned.

One was an illegitimate child. One grew up without a mom, mean down to the bone. Another had been abused since she was a kid—unstable.

They'd picked up twisted habits.

No normal person could deal with them.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of a skirt through 502's cracked door.

Listening. Of course they were.

I took a small step back. "Chloe, what are you talking about? I don't get it. I've never even talked to anyone in 502. How would I know what they're like? It's the start of the semester—people need time to adjust. Calling them disgusting is a bit much."

Chloe let out a sharp laugh. "Can you stop pretending? Aren't those bookworms driving you insane too? Is the pressure getting to you? Just say it. I can comfort you."

Before I could answer, one of my roommates stepped in. "What goes on in our dorm isn't your business."

Chloe opened her mouth—

The door to 502 creaked open.

A cold voice drifted out. "Chloe, had your fun? Come back."

Her back went stiff. She forced a smile and walked off.

The voice belonged to Nadia Holloway—the one who ran 502. The most twisted of the three. She liked treating people like dogs.

When I first moved into 502, she'd send me out on timed errands.

Make it back on time? Cash.

Late?

She'd slap a collar on me, sit on my back, make me crawl.

Once, she said her family had a pony with eyes just like mine.

The pony threw her.

So she gouged its eyes out.

Then she asked if I'd throw her too.

I was so scared I pressed myself flat to the floor, curling in even tighter.

Sure enough, Chloe skipped class that morning. The professor called—no answer.

Meanwhile, I sat with the top students of 501, walking into my first class without fear.