Okay, let me give you all a quick rundown.

Hello, I'm Ravyn Nicole Lawrence, eighteen, a freshman at the University of Missouri-Columbia, or as it's affectionately called, Mizzou. Home of the Tigers! Big football school. The whole city goes bananas over the games, but I digress.

I am currently assigned to Dorchester Hall, a real ritzy residence hall, not a dorm, that is co-ed and full of some of the most eclectic people I have ever seen. Look, I'm from the hood, we're all pretty much the same there.

The rooms are set up in suites. There's a living room and kitchenette area, and three bedrooms, all singles. That was a good thing because if I had to share a room with a stranger I would have had a panic attack, blacked out, and choked someone out.

I always shared with my little sister growing up, well, only on weekends anyway. Though since my daddy married Angel, I had my own room at her house...I mean, their house.

Allura arrived at our suite first and took the best room, though she says they are all equal. It's the one furthest from the bathroom, closest to the kitchen and exit. And if I pulled out my measuring tape, I believe it was bigger by a few inches. I will measure it one day when she is not there.

I came second and took the middle room...which I quickly realized was the worse room. Here's why. I get the sounds from both of my roommates. Let me repeat, sounds...at night...more on that later.

So Twyla had the room adjacent to the bathroom. My assumption was that it was the worse room because there would be flushing noises and other bathroom sounds I did not want to hear. I feared nothing.

Stuck in the middle, I will try and make the best of it. Angel bought me a bunch of things to decorate my room, and it looked better than any room I ever had. At my mother-slash grandmother's home, I barely had a room of my own, once my little brother showed up and I had to share with him. My brother was a menace to society.

Back to my residence hall situation.

Our common area is the living room and kitchen, though it's not much of a kitchen with a small refrigerator, microwave, and no stove. That's right, how were we supposed to cook nutritious meals for ourselves? Well, they assume that most college-aged kids don't know how to cook and will use the meal plans we are obligated to purchase. But they don't know who my daddy is, okay! I've been cooking in the kitchen with him since I was a toddler.

Also, most small kitchen appliances are banned: toaster ovens, crockpots, hot plates, grills and griddles, and gasp, no air fryers. I'm sure some freshman Boomer long, long ago set fire to their room in a hotplate incident but we Gen Zers are better than that.

Well, mostly.

So far Allura and Twyla hung out in the living room, talking nonstop all day. I wasn't going to insert myself in, I believe in making friends naturally.

"Hey!"

Someone yelled at me across the hall from my suite as I was about to open the door. I turned to see directly across the hall from me, a tall dark skin brother dressed in all black. Twyla might be right about the whole, not an ugly guy around at all.

"Hey," I replied. This was Hottie Tottie #2 and he lived across from me. Good thing we all had separate bathrooms so I would not be caught in my pajamas walking around.

"I saw your entrance in English class, that was lit!" he said with a chuckle.

Great! Another hottie to witness my fall from grace...wait, I never had any grace here, not yet anyway.

"Glad you were amused. And so glad you rushed over to aid in my distress. Chivalry is not dead."

"Oh come on girlie, you took it like a champ, bounced up like a boomerang. Pa-dow! Cute!"

"I might need stitches on my leg!" I looked down at my leg, newly covered with a bandage I did myself, minus the pad. Having a CVS a block from my residence hall helped.

"If you get crutches and need some help carrying yo books, I got you."

I opened the door to my room and Allura and Twyla were having a dance-off to a loud Megan Thee Stallion song. Again, they did not invite me to the impromptu party, though my dancing skills don't allow me to accept an invitation if it was offered.

"Yo! Y'all partying in here!" Hottie Tottie #2 strolled right past me at the door and entered the suite, doing a little bounce dance, but not twerking like Allura and Twyla were.

"Heeeey!" Allura said, twerking a little harder for him.

Is this...going to be...my life? Raging room parties?

"Come on Rave, show us what you got!" Twyla was already dancing on Tottie Two and there I was, mouth open just watching.

If I joined along and danced with them, I risked never being seen as cool by them. Black girl can't dance? We do exist!

"I was just uh...I was going to uh...study...in my room." I inched a little closer to my room when another head stuck in the room.

Oh for crying out loud, did he have to be hot too? Hottie Three, I'll just call him Tres for now, smiled and danced on in the room, uninvited. He wore gray sweats and a white t-shirt on his lean body. He had a bushy fro thing going on, and unlike others, I ran into at this ginormous campus, he looked age-appropriate.

Everyone else looked and acted so much older than me and I just turned eighteen. I thought I looked my age, but I had a babyface, and some thought I was fifteen or even younger.

Oh, I digress...back to this happening in my suite.

"Yo! It's the girl that fell on her ass in class today!" Tottie Tres said. "Girl, you all right? We were on the other side of class, but I woulda helped you up."

"I'm fine."

Now all these peeps were in class with me, saw me make my grand entrance, and not a one lifted a finger to help. Yes, this was my new crew.

As Megan Thee Stallion went off, the next song was Latto, and I liked this one. I started to rap out loud to it and they all turned to look at me.

"What?"

"Oh, you got skills, flow with that!" Hottie Tottie Two said.

Okay, okay, now something they liked. I started to flow with my favorite rapper at the moment, but then I tried to dance and the chuckles started.

"Oh, so you dance like Latto too."

"I do not like the Latto slander." True, but in my head I dance like Normani Kordei. Instead of adding moves, I stuck with flowing.

Now the party was really happening. Everyone was laughing and dancing and having a good time when there was a loud knock on the door. I looked to see a guy standing at the door with bushy, curly fro. I take err'thang back I stated about Hottie Tottie, Hottie Tottie Two, and Hottie Tottie Tres. This one erased all those in my eyes. He was perfection.

Mr. Perfect stood there with his arms across his chest. The others were ignoring him, but I don't think he came to join the party.

"Ummm, hi! Can I help you?"

"Your music is too loud, I can hear it down the hall."

"Sorry!"

"This could be a write-up."

"A write-up?"

"I'm the Resident Assistant, I live a few doors down."

Oh no! I was in trouble and it was only the first week of class. Would he call my parents? Worse yet, I would disappoint Angel and never be able to look her in the face.

"So sorry, we will cut it down-"

"No, don't worry about it, just invite the rest of us is all."

The rest of...

Several more kids walked into their suite and cranked the music up even louder as they danced around and partied. WHAT? THE? HECKY-HECK!

"Yo, guess you have the cool room," Mr. Perfect said. "I'm Diallo Azzouzi."

I wasn't going to remember that name. He was Mr. Perfect to me. I have never seen a face so pretty. His hair was like soft rings of curls I wanted to play in. His lips soft like plush pillows beckoned me. If this isn't what love at first sight felt like, then I don't know what was.

I think my face was stuck in a permanent Joker smile, I could not stop smiling at him. I wanted to know things about him. Where was he from? How old was he? Did he like girls? Did he like her? Was he interested in starting a relationship of holding hands and pecks on the cheek? Did he believe in saving yourself for the right person or...

"There you are!"

This little, petite, tiny person with locs down to her waist and a septum piercing in her nose, came up to Mr. Perfect and gave him a big hug, and kissed his cheek

Of course.

Mr. Perfect already had a Mrs. Perfect girlfriend.

A/N: Poor Ravyn. I am winging it here. I have the characters in my head and some plot for them, but not really, just winging it.

What do you think of Rayvn's approach to dating or not dating? Do you think her father's (and mother's) past hinders how she feels about dating?