Meeting Becca

"Chrissy, is that you?"

I froze. It was not me. I was just minding my own business - really, nobody's business but mine, seeing as I was in a dorm shower stall my first week of college. But my eyes widened and I wondered who would be so bold as to address someone she couldn't see, who was also in a vulnerable position.

"No," I called over the steam and water, trying to sound casual, like someone addressed me over the shower stall every day.

There was a pause. Clearly this was not the answer she expected.

"Oh... who is it, then?"

This girl wanted to carry on a conversation with me! In the shower, no less! Crazy. But it was still early enough in my freshman year that I didn't know more than three people in the entire building: my randomly-assigned roommate and two friends from high school who roomed together three floors up. If this stranger in the next stall lived on my hall, it was an opportunity to meet someone. So to speak.

"Um, Amy?" I squeaked.

"I'm Becca, nice to meet you," she said cheerfully.

I finished rinsing, keeping my ears perked in case there was more to come from this Becca person, but there wasn't. I wrapped myself up in towel and bathrobe and squished in my shower shoes back down to my dorm room.

Not long after that, maybe a day or two later, not having new friends still weighed on my mind. I sat in my room, psyching myself up to go out and make some friends. I gave myself a little pep talk and instructed myself to open my door and walk around until I heard noise - any noise - and follow it until I found people, and then force myself to knock and give it a try. I'd never had trouble making friends before, so I wasn't sure why I was so nervous now, but I took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway. I started down the hall towards the bathroom and followed the sounds of laughter and talking, all the way to the end of the hallway. The last door on the left was open and I peeked in.

The first thing I saw was a guy I'd gone to high school with, who'd graduated two years ahead of me. (These are the small-world joys of going to college an hour away from home.) His hair was now pink and he smiled at me, which encouraged me. I thought he recognized me, but he could have just been his characteristically welcoming self. I took a tentative step inside.

The room was full of maybe a dozen new faces, and they all looked over welcomingly. It was as if the whole room stopped and said, "Hey, great, another new person! How fun!" They asked my name, and then all introduced themselves. About halfway around the room, a girl simply said, "I'm Becca." and the two of us started laughing. Everyone else exchanged bewildered but bemused glances and I knew I was in the right place. I relaxed as we told the story of how we'd met, and settled in on the bottom bunk bed next to Becca to get to know my new friends.