Dorms, Erik decided as he passed one door that all but shook from the noise inside, were very loud. They did, however, contain a distinct lack of short pre-law students claiming to be ninjas. In his mind, the two cancelled each other out. He would gladly embrace the aggravating noise of dorm life, if it meant he wouldn’t have to share a room with Ray Fujimoto. Dorms, however, were for the rich, rich, rich . . . You’re lucky to even be here, boy. He sighed and glanced from the hastily scribbled number on a much-folded scrap fo paper to that on the door at the end of the hallway.

Success at last.

Any longer and Erik would have been tempted to return to his own apartment and quietly suffer there. He shoved the scrap into the back pocket of his jeans and knocked lightly on the door. One foot tapped arhythmically against the wall until the door opened.

Erik straightened automatically. “Hey, uh, I’m looking for Dustin McCloud . . .” he trailed off, looking down into the face of the door-opener. Large, sullen hazel eyes glared back at him from beneath thick lashes and thin, frowning eyebrows. Pale skin, a delicate face with a pointed chin and a small nose, soft-looking dirty blond hair . . . He began to blush. “Is this the right room?”

“Yup,” said the tiny door-opener, not moving aside so Erik could actually go in.

“They let guys and girls share rooms?” Erik asked, jaw dropping.

Hazel eyes narrowed unpleasant, and a small fist flew forward, ramming into Erik’s solar plexis. Aw, shit . . . Erik grabbed the doorframe before he fell over, gasping for breath. His eyes watered as his attacker went back inside with a call of, “For you, McCloud.”

There was the sound of rustling paper followed by that of a book being shut. Erik was only beginning to regain his breath when Dustin McCloud himself came to the door, book still in hand. He surveyed Erik with half-open black eyes before lifting the book in greeting.

Standing up with his arm wrapped around his gut once he was sure he wasn’t going to pas out or puke, Erik returned the gesture weakly. “That your roommate?” he managed with only a slight wheeze in his voice.

Dustin nodded.

“And . . . is your roommate a girl?” Erik asked unhappily, staring past Dustin to the slim figure working peacefully at the computer with headphones on, a picture no one would think to connect with violent, unprovoked assault.

Dustin shook his head.

“A guy?”

Dustin nodded.

Big cities, Erik decided, were full of very weird things that he really didn’t want to be thinking about. He’d sought out Dustin’s dorm to relax. “I don’t suppose,” he asked with a sigh, “you have something in there I could drink?”

Again, Dustin nodded, making a beckoning gesture with his empty hand. Erik obediently entered and followed him, sliding his feet out of battered sneakers without undoing the laces and shutting the door behind him.

Keeping one eye on Dustin’s aggressive roommate, Erik ventured into the room and looked around a living area noticeably bigger than apartment 301. Noticeably nicer, too, with furniture that looked nearly new, a decent-sized television set, a glossy state-of-the-art computer, and Dustin’s old, familiar game consoles, a little piece of home in this bizarre place where random girls attacked you and turned out to be guys. He sat down on the edge fo the couch and touched a corner of the console fondly, staring at it as it rested peacefully on a carpet that was a recognizable shade of dark grey instead of the uniform colour of ugly he was growing accustomed to seeing whenever he looked down, until he felt ice-cold aluminum being pressed against his bare arm. He shivered and turned to take the can Dustin was offering him. “Thanks, man,” he said, popping the top and lifting it to his lips, licking at the sudden bubbling of froth on the surface.

Erik choked, his eyes widening before he took a more appreciative sip of the beer. “Dustin, you been going to Alberta without me?” Could Dustin even drive as far as the Alberta-Saskatchewan border without getting himself arrested for reckless driving, let alone reach that fabled land with the lower drinking age?

Dustin shook his head, opening his own beer.

“You got someone to pull for you, then?”

Again, Dustin shook his head, hands wrapped around the can.

Erik looked over his shoulder at the supposed-boy sitting at the computer. One eyebrow rose incredulously. “He isn’t . . .”

Dustin shook his head again just as the boy lowered his headphones and turned to stare at Erik with such intensity that he began to blush again. “No, I’m not nineteen, moron. Our other roommate, Bob, buys the beer. He’s in his third year, but he’s a sharing kind of guy is Bob.”

In light of this revelation, Erik considered his beer and his surroundings with renewed appreciation. Obviously this Bob was a paragon among students. He drank to Bob. “Thanks, uh . . .” he trailed off, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist.

“Ash,” Erik’s attacker answered bluntly, and pulled his headphones back on, effectively terminating any further attempts at conversation.

Erik shuddered once and turned his attention back to Dustin, who was staring at the top of his beer can as though it held the secrets of the universe. He ran a finger along the rim, clearing away some condensation. Erik shook his head. “You don’t mind me coming over, do you?”

Dustin shook his head slowly, still staring at the beer can.

“It’s just that they’ve stuck me in this tiny apartment with a guy who’s totally nuts. Thinks he’s a ninja or something like that. Spastic, too, always bouncing around, can’t sit still for ten damn minutes.”

Dustin nodded his head sympathetically as he opened his beer at last.

“And he’s a slob – ” Dustin lifted his head from the beer to stare at Erik, one eyebrow lifting. Erik went red. “Worse than me, dammit!”

Dustin shrugged, willing to let the matter lie.

“Anyway,” Erik said, staring at his beer, “I just needed to go somewhere he wouldn’t be for a bit.” He tossed the rest of the beer back in one quick motion, coughing when he could breathe again. “I swear, man, I’m going to be completely certifiable before the end of term. We even have to share a bedroom, that’s how tiny this place is. It’s like a frigging box. There’s room for separate beds, though, thank God. But it’s worse than sharing a room with Collin, Dustin!”

Slowly, Dustin pulled at his beer, staring at Erik blankly over the can.

“Yeah, but the paperwork was designed by some bureaucratic Shakespeare. I’ll have graduated by the time I’m done it. Plus, you need a legitimate reason to want to relocate.”

Dustin exhaled softly across the top of his beer.

“That doesn’t cut it with them. Illegal activities, sure. Then they’d kick his hyper-ninja ass out of the building really quick. Or if I could show them that having him as a roommate was making my grades or health suffer. But a week apparently isn’t enough time to prove anything.”

Thoughtfully, Dustin began to lift a finger.

“Screw your broad statistical analysis crap, Dustin,” Erik responded amiably.

Dustin shrugged, unrepentant, and leaned down to turn on the console, tossing a controller into Erik’s lap.

Setting his beer aside, Erik picked up the controller and grinned. “Thanks, man.”

Full of beer, sitting on a leather couch with Dustin, playing video games, Erik was almost able to forget about the hyperactive nuisance that would be in his apartment when he eventually returned. He didn’t even jump when the phone rang, keeping his attention on the screen. As he tried desperately to fend off Dustin, Ash tugged off his headphones and pushed away from the computer to answer the phone on its fifth ring.

“O’Hara, McCloud, and Mackenzie,” he said in a tone that fell somewhere between irritation and boredom.

Erik swore as Dustin threw him off a cliff, mashing buttons impatiently as he waited for a new screen to load.

“You,” Ash said in a tone of mild loathing. “What d’you want?”

Absently, Erik swapped controllers with Dustin.

“Fair, fair . . . Lemme check.” Ash lowered the receiver, cupping a hand over it. “Hey, McCloud – it’s that lunatic from physics. Ballista boy. Says he wants to come over and get some data he missed during the lab. You want him hanging around here?”

Without taking his eyes off the screen, Dustin lifted one hand and gave Ash a vague thumbs-up over Erik’s head.

Ash rolled his eyes. “Can’t believe you’d give that idiot our number . . .” Ash lowered his hand and made a face at the receiver. “Yeah, McCloud’s cool with it. Room 119, on campus. Later,” he hung the phone up, “you nut.”

“Ballista boy?” Erik asked, watching unhappily as he plummeted once more to his death.

“Just this nut we got stuck with as a lab partner in physics. Now they’re going to be revising that lab and making safety goggles mandatory for it, too. Just because some idiot has an itchy trigger finger.”

Erik groaned. “And this menace is coming here?”

“Briefly.” Ash threw himself back into the desk chair, spinning. Erik wondered if he ever sat anywhere else.

“Maybe I should head back to my place – ”

“It’s cool,” Ash said, pulling his headphones back on, an unpleasant smile on his face. “We’ll keep him away from all sharp objects.”

Erik began to stand, aligning protests, apologies, and excuses in his mind when one of the two bedroom doors opened. All thoughts of leaving abruptly vanished from his mind. Three pairs of eyes turned to watch a tall, redheaded woman in tight jeans, a tank top, and thin sheen of sweat shut the door softly and swing her purse over her shoulder. She made her way to the door, paused, and turned to wave at the three young men staring at her. Erik’s face burned. “Later, boys,” she said with a sweet smile, and left the room.

Erik made a strangled noise, staring at the spot where the woman had been, then cleared his throat. Turning to Dustin, he tried again. “Don’t tell me,” he said in a rough voice, “that that was a guy.”

Dustin met Erik’s eyes and shook his head.

Ash twitched in his chair, one hand clenching. Apparently the headphones didn’t block all sound out. “One of Bob’s girlfriends. Idiot.”

After Ash had returned his attention to the computer monitor, Erik made a rude gesture at his back. One corner of Dustin’s mouth twitched and Erik jabbed him viciously in the arm, making an irritable, if rather immature, face at his friend. “I’m getting another beer. You want one?”

Dustin lifted a beer can that was still mostly full and waved it at Erik with a shake of his head. Shrugging, Erik proceeded to raid the tiny kitchenette. Tiny, but far better equipped than his own. What would you do with a kitchen this nice anyway, idiot? He scowled and grabbed another beer from the (very well stocked) fridge. He’d found a bag of oranges in one of the crisper drawers when there was a knock at the door.

Dustin stayed on the couch, staring at the television screen that kept replaying his blinding finishing move. When it became obvious that Dustin had no intentions of moving from the couch, Ash tore the headphones from his ears and threw them to the floor. Kicking his chair into the wall, he stormed to the door.

Erik winced. Unnecessarily violent though Ash was, he couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for someone who was apparently only just realizing that living with Dustin was only a few short steps away from being his unpaid, mostly ignored servant. Edging tentatively out of the kitchenette, he heard a cheerful voice saying, “Hey, cutie, is Dust – ” before there was the sound of flesh slamming into flesh and someone hitting the wall, the speaker’s final words changing into inarticulate noises of pain.

Ash wandered back into view, hands shoved into his pants. “Fujimoto’s here,” he announced. Dustin waved a hand in vague greeting without looking at the door.

Impossible, Erik thought. There were thousands of students enrolled in the university. Despite the increasing feeling of horror bubbling in his stomach like so much acid, he went to look at the figure in the doorway.

If Erik had ever believed in God, the sight of Ray Fujimoto sprawled on the ground and rubbing his jaw would have been enough to eradicate ever ounce of his belief.

“Shit,” Erik said, the word completely failing to express his sheer hatred for the universe at the moment.

The sound of the curse was enough to pull Ray ouf of the contemplation of his Ash-induced injury. He looked up and met Erik’s eyes, a grin beginning to spread across his face. He made a grab for the doorknob, missed, tried again, and pulled himself to his feet. “Hey, Thor.”

“Erik,” Erik answered automatically. “What are you doing here?”

Ray bent down to pick up the notebook he had apparently dropped when Ash punched him, waving it in Erik’s directions. “Getting notes from my physics lab.”

Someday, Erik vowed, he would hunt down the incarnation of really damn annoying coincidences. He would introduce himself to this anthropomorphic personification, very politely and properly. Then, he would kick it in the groin, very swiftly and painfully.

“What about you?” Ray asked as he closed the door, oblivious to Erik’s mounting irritation.

“Just hanging out,” Erik said through clenched teeth. He turned his back to Ray and went to the couch, throwing himself onto it. Ray toed his shoes off and followed. Erik ignored his roommate, focussing his attention instead on the task of peeling an orange. He dug a blunt thumbnail into the thick peel as Ray draped himself over the back of the couch, tapping Dustin in the back of the head.

Dustin raised one hand, putting it between his head and Ray’s tapping finger.

Ray grinned. “Hey, Dust. Where’s your stuff?”

Erik’s thumbnail dug too deep and orange juice squirted abruptly forth as Dustin waved a hand indicating the neat stack of papers on the desk where Ash was working. Erik wiped the tip of his nose clean and licked the rest of the juice from his fingers, grimacing at the sour taste.

Ray patted Dustin’s head in thanks and went over to the desk. Ash pointedly rolled his chair as far away as possible from Ray, which just made the young man’s grin widen. Erik rolled his eyes and quit watching his roommate, digging instead into the orange.

Dustin lifted his controller in query.

“Sure, man. One more game.” Erik set his beer down by his foot and tried to put Ray, apparently working on the floor behind the couch, out of his mind. “I’ll definitely kick your ass this time,” he said, as though some of the fundamental truths of their personal universe had suddenly changed.

Instead of pointing out the unlikelihood of Erik’s statement, Dustin simply nodded and settled back into a more comfortable slouch.

Erik payed no attention to anything outside of the game that was not orange or beer until he felt the uncomfortable warmth of someone else’s breath, entirely too close to his ear.

“Man, Thor, your eye-hand coordination sucks.”

Erik gritted his teeth, his grip on the controller tightening instinctively. “I’m not used to this system,” he lied.

“Huh,” Ray said, once more draped comfortably over the back of the couch.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting notes or something?” Erik asked as he tried to regain his focus.

“Done, Thor, done,” Ray waved a hand dismissively, his voice laughing.

Optimistically, Erik tried to Ray will out of the dorm with his mind.

It didn’t work.

“So,” Ray asked, cheerfully oblivious to Erik’s telepathic attempts, “you and Dust know each other?”

“I don’t tend to hang out in the homes of people I don’t know, Ray,” Erik snapped.

“You might,” Ray suggested irrepressibly. “You could have all sorts of weird secret habits no one has any idea about. How would I know?”

Erik exhaled audibly in irritation, blowing his hair out of his eyes. “Ray . . .”

“I’m just saying, you can never tell.”

Erik snorted.

“So, how do you and Dust know either other? You aren’t Mr. Science Guy like he is.” Ray drummed his fingers on top of the couch in time with the game’s background music.

“We’re both from the same village up north,” Erik answered shortly.

“Cool.” Ray bounced on the balls of his feet, full of pent up energy.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Erik snarled in irritation as he lost once more to Dustin.

“I’m waiting for you, Thor. I thought we could grab a burger or something before we went back home.” Ray propped his chin on the back of the couch, grinning in what was probably meant to be an endearing manner.

“You’re out of luck, then,” Erik said with relief as he finished his beer. “I don’t have a cent on me, let alone enough cash for supper.”

Ray wiggled impatiently. “I do. Don’t worry about it.” He tugged at the back of Erik’s shirt. “Come on, Thor, my treat.”

It didn’t take Erik long to compare the benefits of a free meal with the disadvantages of hanging out with Ray. He stood up, stretching, his joints cracking.

Ray pumped a fist in victory, snatching his notebook up. “Either of you want to come?” he asked the actual residents of the dorm.

Dustin shook his head and Ash pulled off his headphones, eyeing Ray with palpable annoyance. “Bob’s ordering pizza in a bit,” he said at last. Nothing in his manner gave a clue as to whether or not this was another display of Bob’s sharing nature, or just an excuse to avoid spending time with Ray.

“Okay, that’s cool,” Ray said, waving his notebook at the two young men. “Thanks for the notes, Dust.”

Already settling back in the couch with his book open, Dustin stuck a finger between the pages and waved vaguely in Erik and Ray’s general direction.

“Uh, yeah. Thank Bob for the beer, eh?” Erik said, shoving his feet into his sneakers.

“Of course,” Ash said blandly, watching them.

As Ray put his shoes back on, he lifted his head to Erik, mouthing, ‘Bob?’

Erik shrugged dismissively. “Later, Dustin. It was, uh, nice to meet you, Ash,” he added to his lie-total for the day.

“Same here, Thor,” Ash called with cheerful malice as the two roommates left the dorm room.

Erik froze, glaring down at Ray. His roommate turned an unrepentant grin upwards, then ran down the hall before Erik could throttle him.