Sandra Reese stood uncomfortably in the massive line-up being jostled rudely from all sides by loud, rambunctious students. The shy, nervous eighteen-year-old had been standing in this endless line for over an hour waiting to get her dorm room assignment. Her lower back screamed and her feet were killing her in the brand new leather loafers. She kept wishing she had ignored her mother and worn her trusty Birkenstocks. She'd have had some comfort while standing in line. But, of course, her mother had insisted that first impressions were important and had sewn her a new navy blue, knee length, A-line dress for her first day.

"But Mom," Sandra complained. "I'll look like a geek!"

"Hush," her mother scolded. "You will not, either. There's nothing wrong with looking respectable. The A-line disguises your hips and navy is a very slimming color. You look nice dear."

Nice. Right! Her mother could have swathed her in navy from head to toe and she still wouldn't look slim. She was 5'10" and 280 pounds and that was that! And looking around her she did look like a geek. Everyone else was in the standard college uniform of jeans, plaid flannel shirts and beat-up sneakers. She felt like a nun playing hooky from the convent.

She giggled to herself over the image that created in her mind. Her giggle caused the big football type in front of her to turn around and look. Flustered, the embarrassed Sandra dropped her purse and the pile of books in her arms, knocking over her gargantuan suitcase, and drawing even more unwanted attention her way. Oh God, would this torture never end? As she knelt to pick up her things, a loud female voice said,

"Here, let me help you." In gratitude, Sandra looked up to smile at a stranger's kindness and was startled by the vision before her.

The girl was her age, about 5'6" with short black spiked hair. Her dark eyes twinkled with impish amusement. Sandra counted 3 pierced earrings in each ear and was astonished to see the girl sporting a nose ring. As the punkish girl handed Sandra her books, Sandra noticed the assortment of silver rings on her fingers and one on her thumb, as well as a wide silver bangle on the upper part of her left arm with a strange old world symbol engraved on it. Her tight ragged black jeans, combat boots, and black muscle shirt accentuated her tiny, wiry frame. Her outlandish ensemble was completed by the man's plaid shirt tied around her waist.

"There you go," the girl said, dropping the books in Sandra's arms.

"Thank you," Sandra said, completely mesmerised by this vision and feeling even frumpier. She watched as the slender girl boldly threaded her way through the crowd towards the dorm wings. Gosh, she wished she could move as gracefully as that girl. She always felt like such a clod. She'd never seen anyone quite like her before, except maybe downtown in the city and never up close like that. Who was she? Where was she from? What was her story?

There you go again, Sandra, she thought to herself. You always have to know everyone's story. Always the people watcher, never a participant.

"Hey, do you mind?" The loud, rude voice behind her grabbed her attention and she saw that the line had moved forward while she'd been occupied.

"Sorry," she said breathlessly, dragging her suitcase forward and not daring to look at the person she had offended. Things like that happened all the time. She'd get so interested in speculating about people she saw, that she'd wind up in an awkward situation and feel like a fool. What will it be like when I'm doing this for a living, she thought.

It was apparent that she'd have another wait until her turn. Sandra thought back to that last day's preparation at home. Her cousin, Victoria, had come to stay the last week before school. She was starting at the same college as Sandra and her parents were off on a business trip to Japan. Desperate, Sandra had turned to her cousin for some support.

"Tell her, Vic," she had pleaded. "Tell her that I'll stick out like a sore thumb."

"I don't think so," Victoria said much to Sandra's chagrin. "Your mom has a point. Navy is a slimming color and the cut of the dress is classic and flattering."

"See," Mrs. Reese said, smiling at her niece, who smiled in return. "You're just being silly. You look fine."

"Mom," Sandra said, not willing to give up, "no one wears dresses at school. No one. Tell her Vic." She glared at her cousin, daring her to contradict.

"It's true, Aunt Sylvia. These days, everyone wears jeans and baggy shirts and combat boots." Sandra cast a see-I-told-you-so look in her mother's direction. But Victoria continued. "But that wouldn't suit Sandra. Sandra needs to set her own style. That's what all the glamorous women do. They don't follow trends. They start them. I mean, look at what you want for a career. A private detective. That's certainly unusual."

Was it paranoia, or did Sandra sense ridicule in her cousin's voice?

"Honestly," said her mother with a derisive snort. "A detective. It would be far more sensible for you to study to be a nurse or a teacher, Sandra. How on earth do you ever expect to make a living..."

Sandra tuned out the same old lecture. Her parents would never understand. Sandra had a fierce curiosity about other people's motives. She loved to solve puzzles. She was forever watching people in crowds, assessing their body language, speculating about their lives. It was a career choice her parents simply couldn't fathom. They saw it as being in the same category as a little boy's dream to be a cowboy.

"...There!" Her mother sat back and surveyed her handiwork. "I think that's it. You look very nice, dear."

"It suits you, Sandy," Victoria said.

Sandra knew that she'd never win the argument. Not with two of them against her. And where did Vicky get all this glamour woman stuff? Did she honestly expect Sandra to swallow that she was a trendsetter? Now Victoria might be able to get away with that. She was tall, willowy and blonde, the perfect cover girl type. She had big baby-blue eyes and long fluttery lashes and she just seemed to know how to wrap the world around her little finger.

Sandra really didn't like her cousin all that much. She always felt that Victoria was laughing at her. Granted, Victoria never did anything overt, but there were little digs now and again about Sandra's height or her weight or her personality, or other similar slights. Sandra sometimes wondered if she was jealous of her oh-so-perfect cousin, or maybe she was just feeling insecure. But whatever, she wasn't entirely happy that Victoria would be on campus with her to hog the limelight.

At last, after what seemed an interminable wait, Sandra reached the front of the line.

"Sandra Reese," she informed the frazzled woman on the other side of the desk.

"Reese ... Reese ... Randell ... Rawlins ... Reese! Here we are," the woman said. "You're in a double with Danielle Santorelli. That's Room G3-oh--"

"A double!" Sandra interrupted. "No, I asked for a single. I specifically requested a single."

"You a first year student?" the woman asked, nonplussed.

"Yes."

"Then you're in a double," the woman said with finality. "All first years are in a double." And she handed Sandra her stamped papers. "That's G3-oh-7."

"But--" Sandra began, unwilling to give up.

"You better get moving, honey," the woman drawled." You're holding up the line."

"Yes ma'am," Sandra said, crestfallen. "Sorry."

Hugging her books and picking up her heavy, over-sized suitcase, Sandra headed slowly down the hallway to the dorms. She was very upset. An extremely shy, self-conscious girl, she'd never had to share a room before, ever! She couldn't imagine having to room with a perfect stranger. It was unthinkable. But what was she going to do. She couldn't go home. Her mother and father had dropped her off-hours ago and were probably home by now. Even if she called them, they'd never let her leave now. She could just hear them.

"Dear, you must learn to try new experiences," her mother would say. "It's good for you to broaden your horizons. I shared a room when I went to college." Yeah, in the dark ages!

"Your mother's right, Kitten," her dad would say in agreement, for he always seemed to agree with his wife. "You shouldn't be so shy."

How could she tell her father that life had made her shy? Being teased at school for being so big had made her self-conscious. Being ignored in high school by most of the boys had made her feel ugly and invisible. Not being able to buy cute clothes, like her friends and Victoria could, had made her feel freakish and abnormal. Yes, she was shy but with good reason.

She hated feeling this way. She longed to be light-hearted and free of worrying about what others thought of her. She dreamed of being hip and cool and thoroughly eccentric, like the strange girl who had helped her today. Wouldn't her mother freak if she arrived home with a nose ring?

Sandra chuckled at the thought. Her suitcase was feeling like so much lead on the end of her arm that her fingers were beginning to go numb. Overheated from the unaccustomed exertion, Sandra set down her case to lift her long, thick chestnut brown hair off her shoulders and from her face. The heat caused the naturally curly hair to frizz and Sandra thought with dismay, she'd soon resemble a collie dog if she didn't cool down. Well, since she had no choice, she'd just have to face whatever waited for her in her dorm-room. She was sure that Vicky was probably already in her own room, staking her claim and running rampant over whoever was unlucky enough to be her roommate. She was relieved that her parents hadn't insisted that she room with the gorgeous blonde. Sandra felt a twinge of guilt at her unflattering thoughts about her cousin, but quickly swallowed it.

The dorms were built into two wings that jutted out on either side of the upper section of the college that housed the administration offices and some professors' offices. Each wing was divided into four houses, A through H. Each house had a small apartment for the dorm monitor, usually a single professor or an older post-graduate student, plus three floors of rooms that housed up to twenty-eight first and second year students. Light housekeeping was provided. Each week, rooms were vacuumed and dusted and bedding was changed.

After climbing what seemed like a dozen flights of stairs but were in reality three short flights, Sandra arrived at G House, Room 307; her home for the next seven and a half months. Nervously putting her key in the lock, the room was very quiet. Maybe the other girl wasn't here yet. Good. That would give her time to establish herself and freshen up before meeting this stranger she would be sharing with.

But her luck for the day held true, for upon entering the room, she found she wasn't alone. Her confoundedness was complete when she saw who occupied the space. Sitting cross-legged on the far single bed was none other than her saviour from the line-up. Her bent head bopped in time to whatever tune was playing on the Walkman as she thumbed through a magazine. She didn't notice Sandra's presence at first.

It was Sandra; once again losing her grip on her books that caught the girl's attention. She chuckled, removing the headphones as Sandra muttered a curse and bent to retrieve the offensive books.

"Looks like you got a terminal case of dropsy today," the girl said, a grin filling her gamin face.

"I feel like such a klutz," Sandra said, in embarrassed soft tones.

"Ah, don't worry about it. Everyone's frazzled today. That's why I got here yesterday so I could get settled in."

"I didn't know you could come early," Sandra said, heaving her suitcase onto the end of the bed.

"Yeah, well, I don't think they liked it," the girl said, "but I don't really care. I just kinda brazened my way in."

"I wouldn't have the nerve," Sandra said, smiling in admiration.

"Stick with me, kid," the girl said cockily. "I got nerve enough for both of us. My name's Danny Santorelli. What's yours?"

"Sandra Reese." Sandra smiled shyly.

"What are you in for?" Danny asked.

"I beg your pardon?" Sandra was finding it hard to keep up with Danny's humor. Danny's chuckle let her know that she was aware of Sandra's predicament.

"Sorry. Too many cop shows, I guess," Danny said. "What are you going to study here?"

"Oh," Sandra said, feeling a bit foolish for missing the point. "Psychology, probably. I'm fascinated by what makes people tick."

"Gonna be a headshrinker?"

"No," Sandra said, suddenly feeling shy about discussing her dreams. "I'd like to ... what I'd really like to do..."

"Go on," Danny encouraged gently.

Looking into Danny's eyes, Sandra felt she was with someone she could trust.

"I want to be a detective." She held her breath waiting for the laughter that was invariably the response to her revelation.

"Cool!" Sandra's eyes flew wide as she took in the open interest on Danny's face.

"But why not go to cop school?" Danny asked.

Sandra reddened in response. "It's obvious, isn't it?"

"Whaddya mean?" Danny seemed genuinely perplexed.

"Well, I hardly meet the size requirements," Sandra said wryly looking down at her chunky body.

"Oh," was Danny's only response. "So, will you open your own agency or work for one?"

Sandra just stared at this surprising girl and then laughed. She laughed until tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She laughed until her legs got weak and forced her to sit down.

"What's so funny?" Danny laughed along with her.

"I don't know," Sandra said, sending the girls into gales of helpless laughter once more. Minutes later, they were both reaching for tissue to repair the damage their outburst had caused.

"You're a crazy one, that's for sure!" Danny said.

"I'm not usually like that," Sandra said, blotting at her face. "But I have never met anyone like you before, Danny. You're so accepting and kind. I didn't know what to say."

"So you decided to have a giddy fit instead!" teased the smaller girl.

"Yep." Sandra grinned. "I hope the thought of me as a roommate isn't too scary now."

"Well, Sandy, not too much. And it looks like you're stuck with me for the year. I hope the thought doesn't scare you too much."

Sandra laughed at Danny's self-deprecating humor.

"I imagine we'll muddle along," she said. And she realized she meant it. She didn't mind anymore that she had to share the room, if it meant she'd be around this irreverent creature. Now the year held the promise of excitement and adventure.

Danny looked at her speculatively for a moment, then burst into another wide grin.

"I think we will at that," she said.