Hanover Hall is one of the larger dorms on campus. It is shaped like a giant X with a common space in the middle of the first floor. We have three co-ed wings and a women-only wing. There are all-gender bathrooms most places, but the women’s wing has some single-sex showers, I think. 

I get that people care, kind of, but I don’t know why. I certainly have better things to worry about than who is washing themselves in the stall next to me and what parts they might have. So long as they leave me with a bit of privacy, I’m good. Arriving at these decisions communally had been a painfully long and involved process that I had been happy to avoid.

Grey waves at me from across the lobby. It looks like they will be running the mixer, or whatever. Good. I actually like Grey.

“Richard! I’m so glad you could make it.” Their hair looks different, but I’m not sure how.

“Yeah. I promised a friend.”

“You like it? The hair? I noticed you staring. So I wondered if you had an opinion.”

Oh. Now I remember: it used to be dark brown. Now there are silver highlights. “It’s like your name. It looks like you.”

“Thanks!” Grey smiles. 

Grey is one of the first people I met here and one of the few people I know by name. They are the RA for my hall, and have a room directly across from me.

I don’t know anyone else at the mixer or mingle or whatever, and I’m not sure I want to. I am even less interested in meeting new people after  this tall guy across the room calls out, “Grey told us to stand over here, didn’t she?”

Fucking idiot. 

How hard is it to remember someone’s pronouns? We have all lived here for a month. Grey being nonbinary is not new. I mean, sure I don’t know anyone else here—but there are only four RAs in the building, and even Iknow them all on sight.

And I might not know Chem’s name, but whatever; at least I can remember that she’s a chick.

Grey has us do a bunch of stupid ice breakers. If some teacher were requiring this in a class I would probably walk out, but Grey’s a nice enough person, so I go along with their plans. I follow directions. I behave. Mostly. 

Of course I only manage to behave by avoiding the people who have already managed to get on my nerves. The tall dude who can’t remember pronouns steers clear of me on his own. I think he caught me glaring after he misgendered Grey.

After doing some aimless wandering and answering pointless questions, we do this activity where we put one of our shoes in a pile and then have to locate the person whose shoe we have. Then we’re supposed to get to know them somehow. This doesn’t seem like the basis for any kind of friendship. 

My shoe is picked up by some kid from India named Ravi. We talk for a while. He asks me some questions. All I remember about him is that he is a music composition major, and we both wear size 10. 

The person whose shoe I picked up is a girl from Indiana who uses a wheelchair. She’s white, has very long hair and a crooked nose. She tells me she had to threaten a lawsuit against the college so they would correct the slope on the ramp to our building. She’s a design major and did some genius modifications to her chair. She seems badass. I don’t remember her name; it was something unusual. 

Not many of the kids in my dorm are science majors. They are mostly fine arts and humanities. The chem and bio labs are clear on the other side of campus, so it makes sense that there aren’t a lot of fellow science majors here. It never occurred to me how much the dorms would be segregated by major. The walk across campus is hardly a hardship. 

I didn’t choose this place for its location. Hanover has a small movie theater and bowling alley in the basement. It was the old student center. That’s why I picked this dorm, as far away from the science labs as it is. I don’t care about bowling, but I do care about movies. Genre doesn’t matter much to me. Lately I’ve been partial to older films for whatever reason. All this week they are doing a Gene Kelly retrospective. I might have to catchSingin’ in the Rain at the very least.

I only stay until the official activities are finished. Now I can check this off of Tea’s growing list of things I must do in order to be a “fully functioning human.”

A bunch of people hang out and continue talking, but I’m done. 

Mission accomplished.