The Spin of Fate

When Mia stepped into her freshman dorm room, her stomach churned like a washing machine on spin cycle. The cinderblock walls, the twin beds bolted to the floor, and the faint smell of industrial cleaner screamed "adventure ahead"—or "impending disaster."She’d heard the horror stories: roommates who stole socks, ones who never showered, even a girl who’d allegedly adopted a ferret ithout asking. But Mia had rolled the dice on the university’s random housing portal, and now she held her breath as the door creaked open.

Rule #1: Communicate Early, Communicate Often

The first thing she saw was a neon pink Post-it on the empty desk:

“Hey Roomie! Gone to buy plants. Don’t panic if you see a cactus judging you. – Lex”

Lex turned out to be a whirlwind in Doc Martens—a film major who talked in rapid-fire quotes from The Office and owned exactly one bowl (which she used for cereal, popcorn, and occasionally as a hat). By day two, Mia discovered Lex’s quirks: she hummed the Pirates of the Caribbean theme while studying, and her side of the room looked like a thrift store explosion. But Mia bit her tongue. “Assume good intent,”she reminded herself, until…

Rule #8: Cleanliness Is Next to Roommate-liness

…she found Lex’s moldy smoothie cup sprouting what looked like a science experiment under the bed. Mia took a deep breath and channeled her mom’s “kind but firm” voice. “Lex, I’m not mad, but if we don’t clean this, it might evolve sentience and steal our tuition money.” Lex blinked, then burst out laughing. “Fair. I’ll banish it to the shadow realm… aka the trash.”

Rule #3: Noise Is a Ninja

Things got trickier at 2 AM during midterms. Mia was drowning in biology notes when Lex tiptoed in with her guitar and a guy named jared, who smelled like incense and existential dread. “We’re just gonna jam for a sec!” Lex whispered. Mia, running on three hours of sleep and a granola bar, pointed to the “QUIET HOURS” sign on the door. Lex winced. “You’re right. Jared, we’re relocating to the stairwell—it’ll add acoustic grit anyway.”

Rule #5: Guests: Warn, Don’t Surprise

Then came the Great Burrito Incident. Mia walked in to find Lex’s cousin, Diego, asleep on the floor, wrapped in a blanket like a human taquito. “He missed his train!” Lex pleaded. Mia sighed. “Next time, just warn me. Also, tell him the floor’s lava after midnight.” They compromised by drawing a chalk “guest zone” (which Diego cheerfully ignored).

Rule #6: Split Costs Like a Pro

Money tensions flared when the Wi-Fi bill arrived. Lex owed $27.43 but tried to pay Mia in vintage Star Wars stickers. “They’re limited edition!” Mia deadpanned, “The router doesn’t accept galactic credits.” They downloaded a bill-splitting app and celebrated with ramen.

Rule #10: Assume Good Intent (But Don’t Be a Doormat)

The breaking point? Mia’s favorite sweater vanished. She’d seen Lex eyeing it. But instead of accusing, she asked, “Hey, have you seen my blue sweater?” Lex turned crimson. “I borrowed it for a date… and then spilled boba on it. It’s at the dry cleaner! I’m so sorry.” Mia exhaled. “Just ask next time. And… did the date go well?” Lex grinned. “He said I look like a ‘cozy elf.’”

Bonus Rule: Embrace the Weird

By winter, their room was a chaotic museum of inside jokes: Lex’s cactus (named “Spike Lee”), Mia’s meticulous study schedules pinned next to Lex’s ”I Will Survive” motivational poster, and a shared “guilty pleasure” playlist that swung from Beethoven to Beyoncé.

One night, they stayed up too late, debating whether pineapple belongs on pizza (Lex: “Yes, fight me.” Mia: “It’s a crime against cheese.”). Lex admitted she’d never seen Star Wars; Mia confessed she’d never had a burrito. They vowed to fix both travesties.

Epilogue: The Unspoken Victory

On move-out day, they hugged awkwardly, Lex’s earrings jingling against Mia’s shoulder. “You know,” Lex said, “I thought you’d be a preppy robot. But you’re cool. For a bio nerd.” Mia smirked. “And I thought you’d be a disaster. But you’re… a fun disaster.”

They didn’t become lifelong best friends. But they’d mastered the art of coexisting—two strangers who’d spun the roommate roulette wheel and landed on “respect,” with a side of weird.

As Mia packed her last box, she spotted a new Post-it on the window:

“Thanks for not letting me live in a trash goblin cave. P.S. Spike Lee says you’re okay. – Lex”

Mia smiled. However the next roommate roulette went, she was ready.

🌟 The end… until next semester.🌟