Gab sat in her new room for the first time, after Tony had helped her move in with her small collection of things. She studied her timetable and a map. Gab feared becoming lost, being late, looking imbecilic. It was a big place this university, let alone the whole city, compared with the small town she’d grown up in—the primary school with a hundred kids, and the secondary school with about the same.
There was a quiet knock on Gab’s door. She went and unlocked it, opening it to find one of her new housemates, Freya. Freya’s big dark eyes looked enquiringly at Gab’s sheepish grey ones.
“Hi Gab,” she said, with an awkward little wave.
“Hi,” said Gab shyly. “Do you want to come in?” Freya nodded and took a few steps into her room.
“Wow, this is coming along nicely!” she said, referring to Gab’s room.
“Thanks,” said Gab, perking up a little. “I think it’s all set up.”
“Looks great,” smiled Freya. “Love your plants!”
“Oh, yeah, thanks,” said Gab. “I’m studying agriculture, so …” she shrugged.
“Great! I’m in my second year of a Bachelor of Design. Are you just starting?”
Gab nodded. “I deferred last year. I think we’re at the same uni?”
“Cool,” said Freya, smiling. “Hey … how are your cooking skills?”
Gab shrugged again. “Alright, I guess,” she answered, underselling herself. “I always cook at home.”
“Good,” said Freya. “Because we’ve got a weekly cooking roster. Everyone takes a turn. We’re a bit nerdy
and organised here!”
“Sure,” said Gab. “I’ll cook.”
“Thanks!” said Freya, “Do you have a preference for any night in particular?”
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“No,” said Gab, “any night is fine with me.”
“I’ll slot you in on Tuesdays then,” said Freya. “That’s when Emily, our last housemate, used to cook. Tonight’s fend-for-yourself-night—that’s what we do on the weekends—but I’m making a big curry. You’re welcome to have some if you like?”
“Okay, yes please,” Gab was quietly relieved. She hadn’t even thought about food yet.
“Any food allergies? No? Easy. Oh, we’ve also got chores divvied up between us too. Can you take on Emily’s? She used to give the kitchen a once-over on the weekends, and vacuum the lounge once a week.”
“Of course, sure,” said Gab. Then Freya explained who else did what and when, and the consequences if jobs weren’t done.
“Steph forgot to take out the rubbish a fortnight ago,” explained Freya. “So she had to wear her undies on the outside when she took the rubbish out last week. And my job is cleaning the bathroom and I left it too long last month … so I had to cook a gourmet breakky for everyone on the weekend.” She rolled her eyes in mock indignation. “Don’t worry,” she added with a grin, “it’s never too harsh. I quite like cooking gourmet breakkies.”
Over the next week, Gab was initiated into the rhythms of her new home. Of her housemates, Morgan was quiet, unobtrusive and beginning a degree in English literature. Steph, a second year architecture student, was outspoken and had long, brightly decorated fingernails—inconceivably impractical to Gab. And Freya was Freya, with her long, thick plait of dark hair and her earnest, inquisitive eyes. She was always busy with sketching, costume design and her next artistic piece.
Gab had landed.