Suzanne

"And that is that!" With that triumphant cry, Suzanne takes the last book from the last moving box and places it on the shelf, before dramatically elbow-dropping the cardboard box, crushing it into a small heap. "Moving in status: Crushed!" She strikes a victory pose, her short stature making it look a bit comical, though you know better than to tell her that.

Suzanne - or Suzy, or Suze, or Sue, or really anything but Suzanne, unless you want to get on her bad side - and you have been neighbors for ages, basically since the two of you were little runts playing in the mud. And you have always been best friends. So the decision for the two of you to share an apartment for your college years was pretty obvious and natural, and at least Suze seems eager to start this new chapter of your lives. You just got done unpacking the last of her room, which is about as gloomy and crammed as it's always been, the shelves laden with books about programming, ancient aliens and other conspiracy theories, fantasy novels, and worn paperbacks with hot vampires on the cover, which you suspect might just be porn. Her bed, which somehow is already a mess, is watched over by a life-sized poster of the Undertaker, which you imagine is going to do real wonders should she ever invite a guy over. But that, too, is something you know better than to tell her.

"Alright, roomie." Suzy drags out the last words with visible enjoyment, draping an arm around your shoulder. "How about we celebrate? Order a pizza, open a couple beers, watch something stupid?"