By the time I make my way back to the dorm, I’m feeling a hell of a lot better. Freddie and Ken ended up accompanying me to a corner store where I picked up a few drinks and snacks for the mini-fridge in my room, but eventually we had to go our separate ways. Freddie took the metro to get to the part of the city the school was in, so she had to bail on us or she'd miss her train. At that point, Ken and I figured we’d go our separate ways as well, but we promised one another we'd hang out again soon enough.

Making my way back to the dorm was no problem at all with modern GPS, though I had to scroll through my texts for a bit to find the one with the dorm's street address.I just can’t imagine navigating these streets without my smartphone. The city itself isn’t laid out in a grid pattern like I was used to, as many of the streets here were probably just old dirt roads that got paved over as the city developed modern infrastructure. I suppose that’s just one of many differences between living in a city that was founded in the 18th century, compared to one founded in the 20th.

Through the heavy doors of the front entrance, I make my way into the front lounge of the dorm. It’s a spacious room, with a couple of couches and a loveseat providing a cozy conversation space, though the inclusion of a flat-screen television on the wall clashed with the 1920's aesthetic of the furniture. And the first thing I notice as I make my way in is that one of those seats is currently occupied. A girl is lounging over the loveseat, her legs kicked up over the armrests, watching some animated show I don't immediately recognize. She’s also pulling double screen duty, as she's got her phone out and is in happily tapping away on the device She’s wearing most of a standard Villanueva uniform, a short sleeved white shirt with a navy patterned skirt, but she’s got her blazer off.

The first thing that strikes me as unusual about her is her hair. It’s electric blue, styled into a short, punky pixie cut. It matches quite nicely with her facial piercings; she’s got a barbell over one eyebrow, as well as a stud in her nose. Her skin is a somewhat tawny beige, and she’s got blue lip gloss to match her striking choice of hair color. Interestingly, she doesn’t have any ear piercings, probably because as far as I can tell… she doesn’t have ears.

And much like the last girl I saw with no visible ears, she’s got a mass of feathers going all the way down her arms, the white and brown plumage standing out even with her more brazen accoutrements. It continues up under her short sleeves, and as I get closer I notice she’s got more feathers visible at the edges of her collarbone, just where the skin peeks out from her shirt.

Okay… weird, but whatever. I’ve seen people with horns and tails, so I suppose feathers shouldn’t bother me that much, but I can't help but find the combination of mammalian and avian features bizarre. I wave at her, but she doesn’t seem to notice me, engrossed as she is in whatever it is she’s typing. Make my way past her to the stairs, dipping into my room to deposit my impulse buys from earlier, before doubling back downstairs again.

While I remind myself to be significantly more wary around women, what with the incident with Ashley, I'd probably have to meet her sooner or later anyway. It wouldn't help if I gained a reputation for being an ill-tempered shut in, after all. So once I'm back in the lounge, I decide to bite the bullet and I clear my throat to get her attention.

“Hello,” I start, once she looks up at me, “are you staying in the dorm as well?”

She looks at me with some surprise, before she does something I’m actually pretty surprised by myself. While it’s quick, and I get the feeling she’s trying to be sly, I can’t help but notice that her eyes travel up and down my body before her face breaks into a familiar grin. Is… is she checking me out right now?

“Heyyyyy,” she says, her voice like sweetened honey. “You must be the new guy Ms. Koprowski told us about.”

When she stands, I notice two more interesting physical features. One, she’s about halfway between my own height and Ken’s, putting her at nearly half a foot shorter than me; certainly not short for a girl, but definitely shorter than average. And two, this girl has legs for days. While her torso is fairly petite, her hips flare out dramatically, and I have to discreetly avert my gaze from the view of her sizable thighs as she rearranges her skirt before standing to greet me. Even if she’s being shameless with the way she looked me over, I prefer to style myself as something of a gentleman.

“Yeah, that’s me. Jason Kelly, nice to meet you.” I extend my hand for a friendly handshake.

She takes it, and I notice that she’s got something of a strong grip. “Mira Siqueira.” Then she gets a look on her face, like a lightbulb just went off in her head. “Wait, are you the same new guy Ashley interviewed at lunch?”

I try not to let my disappointment show on my face. “Yeah, yeah. That was me.”

She gives a short laugh as she lets go of my hand. “Hell of a first impression, dude. Whole fuckin’ school’s talking about it.”

“Yeah, I’m... aware. My notifications have been blowing up all day.” I walk past her and plop down onto the couch, looking for an excuse to change the subject.  “So, what are you watching?”

She follows my lead and takes her seat on the loveseat back, collapsing into a comfortable but significantly less slovenly slouch. “Ah, nothin’ really. Ever heard of Lonely Girl Love Club?”

“I can’t say I have.”

“That’s not surprising. It’s just another bullshit horny anime about a girl who’s dating like five guys.” 

While I had some passing familiarity with the otome genre, I wouldn't describe anything I'd seen as horny.

The confusion must be evident on my face, because she dismisses the idea quickly. “You’re a guy, I doubt you’d be interested.” She reaches out and hands the remote over to me. “Feel free to change it, I don’t really care.”

I smile at the gesture and take her up on the offer. The TV is using some kind of streaming service, and as I navigate through the menus to find something to watch, I quickly realize that I don’t recognize any of these shows. Which, considering what I saw on my phone earlier today, isn’t entirely surprising. I end up putting on some reality show about a celebrity chef who renovates terrible restaurants. She's pretty confrontational, shouting and insulting the proprietors of the failing establishments, which generates plenty of drama for the cameras.

Mira goes back to her phone, and I pretty quickly pull out my own phone and find myself scrolling through a social media app. Much like what I imagine she’s doing, now that I think about it. But I don’t pay too much attention to my screen, as I'm more interested in the girl herself than what the latest gossip about me is. Getting a closer look at her, I realize that when I assumed she had no ears, I wasn’t quite correct. On the side of her head, there’s a little hole that sits more or less flush with her skin; easy enough to miss when she’s looking straight at you, but noticeable enough from the side. They remind me of… well, of a bird’s ear canal.

If she notices me staring, she’s at least polite enough to stay quiet about it. We get about ten minutes into an episode, around when a particularly egregious dish results in the poor celebrity vomiting just off camera, before she decides to speak up. “So what’s your deal, then?”

I look over at her, setting down my phone for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“Ms. Koprowski gave me the whole spiel,” she explains. “‘Be nice to the new boy, he’s all alone in a new school, he just moved across the country,’ all that basic stuff.” 

She narrows her eyes and gives me a conspiratorial grin. “So what happened? Got kicked out of your old school?”

“What? No, no, nothing like that,” I hastily answer. “I just thought it’d look good if I spent my last year at a more prestigious school.” Which isn't entirely untruthful, though the loss of most of my friend group and the incident with Lilly was probably more of a deciding factor than I'd prefer to admit.

Judging by her sudden frown, she doesn’t seem to like my answer. “Right, of course, because there are no schools for spoiled rich nepo-babies outside of this state.”

I try to laugh it off, but I can tell by her face she’s not buying it. I clear my throat, beginning to feel uncomfortable under her scrutinizing gaze. “Well, I also thought a change of scenery might be nice.”

She’s obviously trying to read my poker face, her appraising stare not wavering for a moment, which certainly doesn't make me any less nervous. “I don’t think you’re being honest with me, Jason.”

I do my best impression of someone shrugging nonchalantly. If I'm being honest with myself, it's not a particularly skillful performance. “You don’t have to believe me. It is what it is.”

“No,” she says, her voice suddenly stern, “that’s not what I mean. I’ve seen the videos dude, from multiple angles. You’re all over the internet right now. Pretty much everyone with a decent view of your outburst has already uploaded their angle.” She sits up, crossing her legs and leaning back, her arm casually draped over the back of the couch.

“No, you looked like you were ready to fight someone. You were unstable. Something about Ashley’s prodding about your love life struck a nerve, and you got real angry.” She smiles a wicked smile, all teeth and no eyes, like a shark in chummed water. “That means you’ve got something to hide.”

“And don’t think nobody’s talking about how you've been hanging around with Freddie all day. Freddie Shawcross, the star defense of the school’s hockey team. A powerful woman to be sure, maybe even a potential guardian for a scared boy who feels like he’s in need of backup. If she’s around, the next time Ashley comes around asking questions, there’ll be a big tough girl ready to intimidate her into backing down.”

The air in the room sits heavy. I suddenly have sympathy for everyone who's ever been subjected to a police interrogation. Her deep brown eyes roam over my face, scrutinizing my body language for the smallest perceptible tell. A split second seems to drag on for minutes. I can feel a bead of sweat roll down my spine. My forehead feels strangely warm.

The look on her face transforms from a smile into a deadly serious stare. “Here’s my little theory, Jason. I think you’re running scared. I think something happened in your old school. Maybe not even something that’s your fault, but maybe something you feel a lot of guilt over. You needed to get away from it all as fast as possible. And... I think you’re terrified of what would happen if a girl like Ashley makes it happen all over again here.”

I can't even hear the voices on the TV anymore. The world falls away, and for a moment, all I can see is that damnable stare.

...

And then she shrugs and goes back to her phone, all the tension in the air dissipating as suddenly as it came. “Or maybe not, what do I know. By the way, there’s leftover pizza in the fridge if you want it.”

...

…What?

...

“What?”

“Yeah,” she says, like she didn’t just dissect me like a dead frog, “the other girls ordered pizza to welcome you into the dorm, but ya know. You never showed. I told ‘em not to, but... whatever.”

"Uh... okay... I... already ate."

She shrugs. "I figured. There's videos up of you and your girl in Black Diamond Burger already."

Now I'm fully unable to hide my exasperation, my heart still pounding. "Jesus Christ, are people gonna record me everywhere I go?"

She has a dry laugh at my expense. "Yeah, probably."

I've had just about enough of this bitch for one day. My good mood well and truly ruined, I stand up, deeply regretting ever coming back down those stairs. "Fuck it, I'll be in my room," I say, turning to stomp away.

"Oh, wait one sec," she says, standing again.

I turn around as I get halfway across the room, even though a large part of me wants to just blow her off and leave. "Yeah, what?"

"You free tomorrow to hang out?" she says, a teasing grin back on her face. "Wanna see a movie?"

"Excuse me? Are you asking me out after all that?"

She shrugs. "Yeah."

I just stare at her in confusion for a moment. "No!" I shout, exasperated. What in the entire fuck was this girl's problem?!

"Okay," she responds, completely nonplussed, and plops back down on the loveseat, like everything that just took place was a completely normal conversation.

I stare at the back of the seat for a moment, completely unable to comprehend what the fuck just happened, before turning back towards the stairs. Why has nearly every girl I've met today been so goddamn weird?

I really, desperately hope my other dorm mates are some normal fucking people.