Free Strange and Lovely (Part 1) by Rachel Redd Page A

away.
    “Don’t be a clichéd asshole just because you’re not going to college,” I said. “Go do something. Anything .”
    “Hey,” he said. “My brother needs help on the construction site, and here I am, the ready-made slave. Besides, I won’t fit in with the Ivy League kids you’ll be hanging out with. You guys will be talking about all this smart stuff like string theory and total world domination, and I’ll be sitting there, scratching my ass.”
    I smacked his shoulder, again.
    “I’m still me, Declan. Now, I’m just me with a full ride scholarship. Valhalla’s not going to change me into some condescending, overeducated, prissy bitch,” I said. “We’ll still hang out when I come back and scratch our asses together.”
    He laughed.
    “I won’t change,” I said. He shook his head.
    “You have to change,” he said. He licked his lips, which were always chapped. “If you don’t change, those trust fund kids will see you coming a mile away. They’ll eat you alive.”
    “Let them try,” I said. I laid down on my back. He looked down at me.
    “Well, remember that Hansel and Gretel left crumbs along the trail, so they could find their way back home,” Declan said. “Then, the crumbs were gone, and they ended up having to shove a witch into an oven so they wouldn’t get eaten.”
    “You’re not Hansel I’m not Gretel, and this isn’t a fairy tale,” I said. Declan stood up, and walked to the edge of the roof.
    “Just remember how to find your way back home,” he said. He jumped down onto the tree and disappeared into the dark.
    ***
    T he first thing I saw of Valhalla University’s Cooper Hall was the brine-green ivy that twisted along its walls. A scale of rough bricks with kneaded and uneven surfaces framed the structures of all twelve buildings on campus. Lush lawns with airy wide open spaces were filled with students idling between their classes. Valhalla was one the few schools to sit smack dab in the center of New York city. Well respected for its top-grade research in science and advanced technology, but notorious for its low acceptance rates. Rumors swirled that the school even dealt in more sinister disciplines, such as the black arts. 
    I approached an erect iron statue beneath a hollowed archway. The eyes of Perseus glared down at me. The Greek savage rendered bloodless by way of iron, held a broad sword in his right hand and clutched the head of medusa in the other. I stared directly into her eyes as I passed underneath the shadow of the statue. My dormitory, Odin Hall, was just up ahead.
    The second thing I noticed were the new students that swarmed throughout all parts of the dormitory. An aristocratic halo surrounded them all. Heirs of the most wealthy in all of the city converged with their couture duffle bags and leather luggage. They stood around pleased as the hired help hauled their belongings inside. Another car backed out of their spot near the entrance, and I drove my busted-up Suzuki hatchback into it.
    Alone, I picked up two of my suitcases and walked inside. My father couldn’t make it up to New York City because apparently the lawyers he worked for couldn’t afford to have one less janitor. I’ve accepted the fact that life is full of sabotage. Plans are plundered. Hopes are dashed.
    I dragged my suitcases down the hallway until I reached the door that read 307 . I fished out the keys they gave me during orientation and unlocked the door. As I swung open the door, I discovered a planet of pink.
    Or, at least half a planet of pink. One side of the room had an upchuck of pink blankets, pink pillow cases, pink clothes strewn all over the floor, a pink lampshade, and posters of some pop band I vaguely recognized.
    The other side of the room looked like I wandered into a soviet gulag. The only distinguishing thing about it was the tiny holes in the walls and the stain on the mattress. As I lugged my heavy suitcases into the room, I realized two more boxes still