“I’m Aurora.” She pauses for a second, her head tilting to my bags. “Need help?”
I set them down with a small sigh of relief, my shoulders aching. “Honestly? Yes. I think I brought my entire house with me.”
Aurora lets out a laugh, her shoulders shaking slightly. “Don’t worry, same here.” She gestures toward her side of the room. “My side looks like a disaster zone.”
She’s not wrong. Her clothes are everywhere. A pair of sneakers thrown on the floor. A coffee mug half-filled with something that doesn’t look like coffee. But she seems cool, so I don’t mind.
“I’m good with it,” I reply with a chuckle. “Besides, this is just my clothes. The rest of my stuff is at my brother’s place off campus.”
Her brows shoot up. “Your brother lives off-campus?”
“Yeah,” I say, tossing my smaller suitcase onto the bed and unzipping it. “He lives with his teammates.”
Aurora’s eyes widen. “Hockey player?”
I pause, narrowing my eyes. “Yeah… how’d you guess?”
She shrugs. “My boyfriend’s a hockey player. I just assumed.” Then, with a smirk, she adds, “Hockey players are hot, and you look like you’d have a hot brother.”
I choke out a laugh. “Uh… thanks?”
She winks. “You’re welcome.” She unzips a packing cube and starts stacking my neatly folded clothes onto the bed. Kinda digging that she’s helping me out, given that we’ve only just met. “Is this your first time away from home?”
I shake my head. “I’m not really far from home. My dad’s the coach, so we live close.”
Her brows shoot up. “Wait, your dad coaches the hockey team?”
“Yep.”
“Damn.” She grins. “So, you’ve basically been surrounded by hockey players your entire life. That explains why you’re immune to their charms.”
I snort. “I wouldn’t say immune. Just… conditioned.”
She laughs, plopping onto my bed. “Well, I’m from California, so this is definitely far from home for me.”
“Wow,” I say, my brows shooting up. “That’s far.”
She stretches her legs out, tilting her head. “Yeah, well… Colton U has the best art program in the country, and, you know,” she pauses, flashing me a wink. “I wanted to be very,veryfar away from my parents.”
I breathe out a laugh. “Not close to them?”
She waves a dismissive hand. “They suffocate me, and I just needed space to breathe.” She shakes her head. “Plus, they’re not exactly thrilled about the whole art thing.” She rolls her eyes. “Starving artist and all that.”
Folding up my skirts, she glances up at me. “What’s your major?” Her eyes narrow with suspicion. “Please, for the love of God, don’t tell me it’s something boring like business.”
I let out a laugh, scrunching my nose. “Well… kinda,” I admit, shrugging as I fold a sweater. “I’m majoring in sports management. It’s necessary if I actually want to work with a team someday.”
Her brows shoot up, and she lets out a low whistle. “Okay, I’ll let that slide because that’s actually really fucking cool. We need more women in sports.”
I let out a laugh, nodding because… yeah, we really do.
She reaches into my suitcase and pulls out a purple mug wrapped in a t-shirt, her brows tugging together. “This a special mug or something?”
I breathe out a laugh. “Just one I made. I like doing pottery sometimes,” I explain. “It calms me down and gives me something to do other than scrolling on my phone.”
Her eyes widen as she inspects the mug. “This is really good.” She tilts it in her hands, studying the design. “I mean, some of the details could be better, but I can help you with that,” shesays, flashing me a grin. “I might even commission one from you.”
I grab the mug from her and place it on my nightstand. “First one’s on the house.”
