friends for a moment (lyn)

Alexander’s dorm room was ridiculously small.  Someone must have mislabeled his single-sized room as a double, and then stuffed an extra bed, bureau and desk into it.  Alexander applied for a room change, knowing it would be impossible to reasonably function in a space overrun with clothes, books, computers, and all the other stuff two nineteen year olds need for college living.

This week Alexander was given the option of accepting a change to a real single (with no roommate), within a suite in West Campus, where most sophomores live.  This dorm is new, has air conditioning, a library and dining hall.  He liked living with his roommate, but not in a space designed for one.

Alexander completed the move into his new room today.

I speak to him tonight and ask him to send me pictures.  Instead, he suggests we video chat through Facebook.  The only problem is that we are not FB friends.  My sister is his friend.  Other adults I know are his friends.  But until now, he hasn’t allowed me to be his friend.  “You’ll judge me, I know.  You’ll ask me who’s this person and who’s that person and why do I have that picture up, and blah blah blah.”   But he does want to show me his room, so he agrees to confirm me as a friend, but only for this one call.

Alexander gives me a tour of his new room.  High ceilings.  A closet with a door (his other closet had no door and he and his roommate split it).  An uncluttered desk.  Very organized.  Clean.  A view of Lake Cayuga (His last room had a small window with a view of a parking lot).  A bathroom he shares with 4 other guys (versus an entire floor).  And best of all, quiet when he needs to study.

I hang up, wondering how long I’ll get to keep my new friend.