hobby Steve had once called it.
She checked her watch. One o’clock. He’d probably be back at the office after lunch. Did he go to the same restaurant he always had or had he changed that habit of living as well? And Missy? She didn’t want to think about where Missy was. The girl would call when she was ready. Maybe Gwen would not screw things up anymore and just wait.
Besides, she had her own things to do. After lunch, she’d register for one psychology class. She’d already hauled her things, Missy’s things, into the room, which was over-kill for one class. She couldn’t imagine what she would do with her time. There was the mandatory floor meeting to look forward to. Maybe the perky R.A., who’d shooed her off like she was a crazy woman banned to the attic, would be there, but more likely not. Gwen was probably the only resident of the ninth floor. She’d just imagined the gopher. And if a virus came and wiped out all mankind, she alone would survive, although it was hard to imagine isolation could be any kind of survival.
She surveyed her fellow floor mates from the middle of a sectional couch. The large room echoed with their small presence. At the far end of the couch sat the gopher. She’d have to stop thinking about her neighbor that way, or she’d accidentally call her that. Annie, Annie, Annie. Annie sat so close to the edge that Gwen wondered how she stayed on it at all, given the laws of gravity. But being that thin probably helped. The girl looked lost in an enormous cardigan she’d wrapped herself in despite the room’s warmth. It hung over a blue striped skirt, her two knee knobs visible above gray socks. She was shoeless, expressionless, and with her hair hanging in a sad pony tail, she made Gwen feel a mix of motherly concern and the concern of meeting someone who would later be described by neighbors as having kept to herself.
To the left, in a club chair, an international student worked the giant television’s remote fluently. His name and country escaped her during introductions because nothing he said was in any language she could identify. And in front of them all, Mranda waited to begin the orientation because their floor’s population numbered a whopping four, and one was missing. Mranda waved to get the foreign student’s attention, pointed to the remote, and drew her hand across her throat. He hit the mute, and looked a little frightened, so he understood a few things.
"I really need to…" Mranda circled her finger around the group, not extending the motion or her eye contact as far as Annie, "get this going. I have a dorm mixer on my floor to host, and I need to sign in the catering from the food zoo." She smiled at Gwen, "that’s what we call the cafeteria."
"Oh," Gwen nodded, "I did not know that. Annie, did you know that?"
Annie’s eyes didn’t change expression, but she shook her head a little so that seemed good. Gwen would chalk that up to communication with her neighbor. Things were already looking up. The foreign guy knew one sign. Annie could almost shake no. And, no doubt, Mranda would only visit them when she had to. The entire lounge would be theirs. Gwen turned towards the wall to the right of the television. There were two burners, a mini oven, a refrigerator, and two feet of counter top. It was tiny, but it was a kitchen.
"Ty!" Mranda gave a bounce on the balls of her feet, and Gwen half expected her to clap once and rally the team with ready? Let’s go! Even for an R.A., the girl seemed over-the-top. Gwen turned to see the final neighbor and thought Ty! He had chocolate brown eyes and that mid-sized build that worked at any age. And he wasn’t eighteen either. He wasn’t forty or probably even thirty, but he wasn’t a teenager. Gwen felt the need to take a deep breath and mentally give herself a shake. She shouldn’t even innocently ogle him. She easily had ten years on the guy.
They all watched him come around the end of the sectional, Annie leaning towards him as he smiled a greeting until she'd tilted a couple of inches past defying gravity and was forced to commit a couple more to joining them on the couch. Next he greeted Mranda, which sent her into a nodding fit that