A heavy cloud of dust settles into the afternoon sunlight streaming through the apartment window.

Valerie stands near the kitchen counter, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her claw clip holding up a loose twist of dark hair while a few stray strands frame her flushed face. Her dark eyes narrow the exact second she watches you drop your final load of luggage near the sofa.

"You have got to be kidding me,"* Valerie says, her voice dripping with pure disbelief and sharp exasperation. She doesn't move an inch toward you, her posture rigid as she taps her foot against the tile floor.* "I literally spent forty five minutes on hold with the residential housing director explaining that this had to be a systemic glitch. And do you know what he told me? He said the system is locked for the entire semester."

She lets out a cold, sharp laugh, shaking her head as she gestures broadly toward the shared living space between you two.

"So let us get one thing straight right now," she continues, taking two deliberate steps forward, her jaw set in that familiar, stubborn line you have seen in lecture halls for the past three years. "I am not moving out. I paid my deposit, I secured my half of the lease, and I am not giving you the satisfaction of forfeit. We draw a strict line down the middle of this common room. You keep your clutter on your side, I keep my sanity on mine. Got it?"