“Did you see the Voldemort doll?” Poison asked. “It had the little snake nose and everything. What’s up with that anyway?”
“What’s up with the dolls?” Clarin asked, shrugging. “Probably too much money, too much time, and too much Internet. It’s the curse of the modern American teenager. It’ll get inside your organs and rot you into depravity—and the only way to feed your newly discovered human deviance is obviously to invest in the freakiest collection hobby ever.”
Poison chuckled. “I meant Voldemort’s nose. But what’s with the human analysis, Clarice? You switching to a psych major?”
“Oh.” Clarin clucked his tongue. “Nope. I decided to take a class or two, but I haven’t chosen a major. Give me a break, woman. We haven’t even started yet.”
We struggled to pull all of the bags out of the elevator and then we walked to Poison’s room, bursting inside in a tumble of canvas straps and dragging feet.
“We probably should have done me first,” Clarin admitted. “Only three of these bags are yours.”
He dumped all of his bags onto the ground and slid a hand under the strap of the duffle that was hanging off my shoulder. He grinned at me, pulling it away and tossing it onto an empty bed beneath a window. My eyes scanned the room, landing on the second bed, which wasn’t so empty. A tiny girl sat there, blinking out at us from behind the lenses of the biggest pair of glasses that I had ever seen. Her gaze was fixed on Clarin, her mouth dropping open. She was adorable—her eyes a dark, velvety blue; her lips pink and heart-shaped. It was as though Frankenstein had finally succeeded in creating life; but had gone with cute, instead of… second-hand corpse. There was a floppy blue ribbon holding up her thick, chestnut mane—the exact same shade of blue as her eyes.
“Shouldn’t you still be in high-school, doll-face?” Poison asked the girl, cocking her head and planting a hand on her hip.
The girl looked at Poison, and her mouth dropped open even more. She was trembling. I swallowed a laugh at the nickname, pushing in front of Poison—and then sidling over a little to block her out completely. The girl switched her attention to me, her eyes flicking from one of my eyes to the other, unsure which colour to focus on.
“Hi.” I tried to sound as unthreatening as possible. “I’m Seraph.”
I held out my hand and she deflated a little, hesitantly slipping her hand into mine and giving it a single, firm shake. She pulled her hand back quickly, her lips trembling, as though she were trying to smile.
“And that’s Clarin, and Poison.” I motioned over my shoulder with my chin. “She’s your new roommate. She’s not nearly as mean as she looks.”
“Actually,” Poison interjected, “I kind of am. Don’t get your hopes up.”
The girl tensed up again as though I had put a taser to her neck. She had probably assumed that I was her roommate.
“What’s your name?” I prompted her, when it seemed like she wasn’t going to say anything.
“B-blossom,” she stuttered, her eyes flittering back to Poison and Clarin.
We all stared at her. Mute.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I asked, sure that I had heard her wrong.
“Blossom,” she repeated, a little louder.
“No fucking way.” Clarin was the first of us to lose it. I quickly shot him a look, but he couldn’t hold it in. He was laughing so hard there were tears streaming down his face. He wiped them with the back of his hand, punching Poison in the arm. “Blossom,” he repeated. “Her name is Blossom.”
Poison looked like she didn’t know whether to throw herself out of the window, or laugh along with Clarin. I levelled her with a warning look, but she pushed right past me, squatting down beside Blossom’s bed, her elbows resting on her knees, her face turning serious. Blossom backed up a little bit, apparently terrified.
“Blow,” Poison said. “That’s your new name. Because your old one seriously blows.”
“That’s kind of a bad nickname,” I said. “It might even be worse than the original name.”
“I don’t give good nicknames, cupcake.” Poison jumped to her feet again, rounding on me and slapping her hands against either side of my face, squeezing my cheeks together. “I give accurate nicknames. Blow has a blowy name, and everyone seems to want to lick your frosting.” She released me and then grabbed two of Clarin’s bags, heading for the door. “Come on, let’s go see Clarice’s room.”
“Ugh,” I managed, following her.