Chapter 1
Lena's POV
The Old Freshman
I stood outside the dormitory building holding two bags, one cracked suitcase, and the last bit of confidence I had left.
The campus was louder than I expected.
Students moved everywhere in groups like they already belonged here. Parents carried boxes upstairs while younger girls laughed over matching bedsheets and fairy lights. Boys shouted across the parking lot like they had known each other forever.
And me?
I stood there sweating in a faded blue blouse, wondering if everyone could tell immediately that I was too old to be here.
Twenty-six.
God.
I tightened my grip on the suitcase handle and checked the paper in my hand for the fourth time.
Dormitory C — Room 214.
A group of girls walked past me.
One glanced at me before quickly looking away again.
I knew that look.
Not rude exactly.
Just confused.
Probably wondering if I was someone’s aunt helping them move in.
I almost laughed at the thought.
Instead, I dragged my suitcase toward the building entrance while the wheel screeched across the pavement loud enough to announce my financial status to the entire university.
The inside of the dorm smelled like dust, cheap perfume, and fresh paint.
Students crowded the hallway carrying pillows and laundry baskets while someone somewhere blasted music through a speaker.
I stepped aside as two boys nearly crashed into me carrying a mini fridge.
“Sorry, miss.”
Miss.
Not girl.
Not student.
Miss.
Wonderful.
I climbed the stairs slowly, already regretting bringing my entire life in one trip. By the second floor my arms burned and my breathing turned embarrassing.
Room 214 stood at the very end of the hallway.
The door was slightly open.
I paused.
Then knocked softly.
A girl popped her head out almost immediately.
She looked about eighteen. Maybe nineteen.
Pretty. Bright smile. Curly hair tied up in a scarf.
“Oh my gosh, hi!” she said excitedly. “You’re my roommate?”
I nodded awkwardly. “Yeah. Lena.”
“I’m Tessa!”
She moved aside quickly to let me in.
The room was small.
Two beds. Two desks. One window overlooking the basketball court outside.
Tessa’s side already looked alive:
• posters
• skincare products
• colorful blankets
• tiny stuffed animals
My side looked painfully empty in comparison.
Just a thin mattress and old wooden desk waiting for me.
“Do you want the bed near the window?” Tessa asked kindly.
“No, it’s okay. You can keep it.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Truthfully, I would have loved the window bed.
But after years of sharing space with siblings and cousins and sometimes sleeping on couches, I had learned not to ask for things first.
Tessa sat cross-legged on her bed watching me unpack quietly.
“You’re first year too?” she asked.
I folded my clothes carefully before answering.
“Yeah.”
“What course?”
“Business Information Systems.”
Her face lit up.
“No way! Me too!”
I blinked in surprise.
“Oh.”
“That’s so cool,” she said. “At least I know one person now.”
One person.
The words warmed me more than they should have.
I smiled a little.
“Yeah.”
She kept talking while I unpacked.
About orientation.
About lecturers.
About boys she saw during registration.
About how nervous she was to live away from home.
I mostly listened.
It was easier that way.
Eventually she asked the question I had been dreading all day.
“So… how old are you?”
There it was.
I tried to sound casual.
“Twenty-six.”
The room went quiet for exactly two seconds.
Not long enough to be rude.
Just long enough to hurt.
“Oh.”
Her expression changed slightly.
Not disgust.
Not judgment.
Just surprise.
“You look younger,” she said quickly.
People always said that when they didn’t know what else to say.
I smiled politely anyway.
“Thanks.”
Tessa suddenly looked guilty.
“No, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay.”
And it was okay.
I was used to it.
Too old for first year.
Too old for dormitories.
Too old to be starting life.
At least that’s what it felt like sometimes.
I turned toward the window before she could see my expression.
Outside, students crossed campus under the orange evening sky. Laughter echoed from somewhere near the cafeteria.
For a moment, fear hit me so hard I could barely breathe.
What if I couldn’t do this?
What if everyone looked at me and saw failure?
A woman who should have graduated years ago.
A woman who got left behind.
My chest tightened.
I thought about my mother counting coins at the kitchen table.
About the years I spent working instead of studying.
About watching classmates move forward while my own life stayed still.
This university wasn’t supposed to happen for me.
And yet…
I was here.
I looked down at my student ID lying on the desk.
LENA VALE
FIRST YEAR STUDENT
The words felt unreal.
Tessa suddenly jumped off her bed.
“Oh! Orientation starts tomorrow morning. We should go together!”
I turned back toward her.
She smiled brightly again like the awkward moment earlier never happened.
And somehow that made me feel a little better.
“Aren’t you scared?” she asked.
I let out a small laugh.
“Terrified.”
“Same.”
For the first time that day, I smiled properly.
Maybe I didn’t belong here yet.
Maybe I looked older than everyone else.
Maybe I was six years late to the life I wanted.
But as I sat on that tiny dorm bed listening to the noise of campus outside the window, something inside me shifted quietly.
For the first time in years…
