And They Were Roommates
Page Powars
FOR SHANNON, MY
CLASSMATE-TURNED-VALENTINE.
WILL YOU MARRY ME?
Chapter 1
THIS SIDE OF PARADISE
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 3
“A roommate?” My heart races as I glance back at the waiting line full of frowns and tapping feet. I’m taking too long. Day one, and the spotlight is already on me. The exact situation I need to avoid as long as I’m at Valentine Academy for Boys.
My accidental nervous outburst forces my fourth-year orientation leader to finally glance up from his clipboard. He rules above me from a cocktail table at the back ballroom wall. Of course this academy hosts orientation in a literal ballroom. His plastic smile and dress shirt are properly buttoned to the neck, and his name tag claims he’s called Maverick.
“Room 503,” Maverick says, leaning forward to hand me a key. I instinctively take a step back to maintain the space between us. “You’ve been assigned to a double room. You’re in Philautia Residence Hall. My floor.”
I push my glasses farther up my nose to inspect the key, which is the size of my fist and made out of brass. “Your floor?”
“Yes, I’m your residential retainer.”
“Sorry, my what?”
“Residential retainer,” Maverick repeats. No explanation. Second years should know this by now. An RA, maybe, but for fancy schools?
“I apologize for the inconvenience,” I try to say calmly, setting the key back on the table, “but I believe I paid the extra fee to reserve a single room.”
It’s a fact. On top of studying nonstop for Valentine’s entrance exams and crafting a perfect portfolio for their Excellence Scholarship application, my summer break consisted of tutoring nearly every elementary schooler in Queens to afford the extra fee for this room. Hard to forget that.
From his cocktail table throne, Maverick scans the parents and students waiting behind us. “It’d be best to discuss this with your caregivers.”
Today would be easier if Mom were here. It’s not like I chose to be alone after my four-hour train ride to middle-of-nowhere upstate New York—Au Sable Forks, population 55. But some parents can’t miss work if they want to pay rent, Maverick.
“She didn’t come with me,” I say.
“Remind me of your name again?”
“Charlie.”
“Last?”
“Von Hevringprinz.”
“Quite a long one you got.”
Never heard that one before, Maverick. “Mhm.”
“If you had paid for a single, then that would be marked here.” He holds up his clipboard and points at my name. “I, too, apologize for the inconvenience.”
Second year and double are marked on the spreadsheet.
Then there’s been a huge mistake. “Would you mind double-checking with the office?”
Maverick rapidly rips a sticky note off a nearby stack like I struck a nerve by questioning his authority as a measly underclassman. “I’ll note it. Large requests like these can only be approved by the principal. What was the reason you listed for requesting a single?”
“Um. Personal reasons.”
His impenetrable smile falls a centimeter. He’s heard that excuse a hundred times, but I’m not about to tell him or anyone else here the real reason. “Since all other rooms have been reserved, you’ll need to stay with your assigned roommate in the meantime.”
“How long will it take?”
Instead of answering, Maverick pulls a wicker basket of phones out from under the table and slaps it down in front of me. “All electronics, please.”
Delilah warned me about the phone ransack. I just didn’t realize it would be so soon. I hesitantly drop in my phone. “I don’t get this back until winter break?”
“If there’s an emergency, the office will happily accommodate you.”
“Right, but—”
“As you should know, we have a history of celebrating Saint Valentine’s lifelong passion for love through our own passion—for learning. This academy is for traditional, intensive study, and all electronic and internet access is limited as such.” After his clearly rehearsed speech, Maverick takes a long look at my basic black T-shirt and jeans that are still too long for comfort despite being cuffed. “And, once checked into your room, students must change into proper uniform.”
“I didn’t know,” I mutter, crossing my arms enough to cover my chest.
How could I? Most people don’t know what goes on behind Valentine Academy’s ivy walls. The outside world only knows that students from here end up in top-tier universities.
Even with Mom and Delilah’s combined wisdom, I feel lost.
“All campus guidelines are in your package.” He hands me a bound stack of paperwork with my full name sticky-noted on top. “Class schedules will be delivered tomorrow morning. Welcome to Valentine.”
* * *
Philautia Residence Hall is the missing piece of a castle.
Rather, a cobblestone tower with turret-like domes that screams early 1800s. Seven metal statues of Saint Valentine, the celebrated man himself, guard the front arch. Some pose with palm branches. Others outstretch their arms in cleric robes. A sign beneath is inscribed with LOVE IS PATIENT, LOVE IS KIND.