01-Spilled Coffees, Hot Tempers, New Beginnings.

OLIVIA

Exiting the cab, I inhaled the crisp California air, absorbing the scenery unfolding before me-UCLA. This place holds my future.

"You're destined for greatness, Olivia," my dad's voice echoed.

A smile tugged on my lips as I thought about the conversation we had before I left. 

My mum once told me when I was thirteen, "Be bold, Olivia. You've got the strength to conquer," and I've held on to those encouraging words even after she left. 

Now, those words echo as I face the uncertainty of this new chapter in my life.

Turning to Emma, her presence reassured me. We'd come a long way together, and now we're stepping onto a new chapter-college. I sighed, stealing another glance at Emma, who also appeared to be sharing a moment.

"Well, here we are, college," she remarked.

"Is it strange to admit I'm terrified about what lies ahead?" I questioned, nervously rubbing my arms.

"Honestly, I believe I'm more terrified than you are."

"Oh, hush. At least Aunt Stella's here. My dad is 2782 miles away, I have no one," I exclaimed.

"You have me."

I smiled warmly at her. "You have no idea how pumped I am because of that."

Having gathered all our necessities, including the map of the school and our room numbers, we made our way to our assigned room. My dad generously secured a college-owned apartment for me, while for Emma, it wasn't a big deal as her parents are loaded.

Arriving at our room, excitement bubbled between us as we chatted about what the space might look like. With anticipation, we opened the door using the provided key, but our excitement was abruptly halted by a piercing scream.

"Dios mío, chi diavolo sei?" (My gosh, who the hell are you?), a startled voice exclaimed.

I looked up at the culprit, gaping at her appearance; she was beautiful.

 Starting from her naturally tanned skin to her rosy lips, button-shaped nose, and eyes that could draw any guy in. She stood around 5'6 with long, slender legs, and hands that were currently holding a baseball bat.

I had to stifle a laugh seeing the Italian girl holding a baseball bat. She looked so harmless, like she couldn't hurt a fly. The contrast between her appearance and the intimidating object in her hands was strangely amusing.

"Say what now?" Emma blurted, extremely confused by what she had just said.

"We're your new roommates. I'm Olivia, and this slightly confused person here is my best friend, Emma," I stated, comprehending her words clearly.

"Sei italiano? (Are you Italian?)" she inquired.

I gave her a small nod, and she made a face, visibly impressed.

"I'm Isabella," she introduced herself, and I shook her outstretched hand.

"Welcome to my-our humble abode. Feel free to wander around," Isabella warmly greeted.

I headed towards the room Isabella indicated for Emma and I. 

Upon entering, I gasped; it was cozy and perfect. A queen-sized bed occupied the left side, complemented by a nightstand holding a table lamp and a peculiar-looking plant. To my right, two doors led to a walk-in closet and bathroom. A chair with a small table stood in front of me. The walls, painted white, were adorned with frames. The room I presently stood in was beyond perfect for me. 

Arranging my clothes neatly into the closet after unboxing them, I gave my cosmetics and jewelry a final touch. Just then, Em walked in.

"I love this place," she declared, sprawling out on my bed.

"Hey, I just made that," I retorted as she rolled her eyes, and I huffed in annoyance.

"Your room looks exactly like mine," I hummed in agreement while staring at the photo before me.

"You miss her, don't you?"

"Every day, Em." I paused, my eyes momentarily clouded with memories. 

"I really wish she was here to watch me unpack my stuff, to give me that 'don't do drugs' talk. Sometimes, it feels like I'm moving through new chapter and experiences in my life without her guiding my hand. She was my rock, you know? Her absence, especially today, makes everything a bit more bittersweet." 

Tears welled in my eyes at the thought of my mom, who had passed away five years ago due to an accident involving a drunk driver, and no, he didn't get away.

"Wherever she is now, I'm sure she's watching you with a proud smile on her face. She must be so proud of the woman you've become and how far you've come. And about the drug talk, Olly, let's avoid going down that path," I chuckled and pulled her in for a hug.

"Oh, when you're done, let's stop by at Auntie's Cafe; she's been dying to see me."

"Sure, sure," I hummed.

"Sooo, Isabella is a ray of sunshine," Emma started, and right on cue, the door suddenly burst open, and Isabella came walking in.

"Oh my days!" Em exclaimed in shock.

"Get used to it, bellissima (beautiful)," she said as she shimmied her way towards the bed, plopping herself on it.

I let out a small laugh at her antics and discreetly sighed, feeling relieved that we weren't stuck with a cranky and snobbish roommate. 

"So let's get to know ourselves," she begins. "You already know I'm Isabella; you can call me Izzy though. My last name's Russo."

"I'm Emma, Emma Smith," Em finally spoke.

"Oh, you finally spoke. For a moment, I thought you had threewords syndrome, you know, a disease where you could only say three words for some amount of time," Izzy laughed.

"She's just really shy around new people, right Emma?" I nudged her, snapping her out of her trance.

"Yeah," She awkwardly chuckled. "I'm just getting used to the whole vibrant personality. It's kind of overwhelming, no offense. You sound like an amazing person, and I'm sure we'd be great friends."

"Well, brace yourself," Isabella declared, "because you'll be seeing a lot more of me now that we're roommates."

"I'm Olivia Davis; you can call me Olly," I introduced, "that's literally what everyone calls me. I'm a business major, and so is Emma."

"Well, aren't I just lucky?" she remarked, "I'm also a business major, and so is my stupid twin brother. Luck sure wasn't on my side for that one," she added, rolling her eyes, making us laugh.

"So my Aunt has a cafe nearby, let's go there?" Em suggested.

"Sure, yeah, like a date," Izzy remarked.

Em choked at Izzy's words. "What?"

"You should see your face right now," Izzy cackled. 

"I meant like us three drinking chocolate frappe and gossiping about college and all the sorority sisters in it," She squealed.

She sure is hyper.

I turned to look at Em, and it seemed like she was thinking the exact same thing.

"Okay, let's go then," I said, and we all stood, heading towards the door.

°°°°°°°

Arriving at Aunt Stella's, we exited the cab and walked in after paying. It felt like entering a haven of warmth and nostalgia. 

The rustic charm enveloped us as soft jazz tunes played in the background. Cozy booths with worn leather seats and mismatched throw pillows offered a private retreat. Fresh flowers adorned the tables, and the aroma of coffee and baked goods filled the air.

Aunt Stella, with her bright smile, bustled behind the counter. The unique decorations - vintage posters, paintings, and antique teapots, added character to the space. The gentle glow of pendant lamps cast a warm ambiance, creating a play of shadows on the walls adorned with framed photographs.

"Emma, Oh my sweet Emma," Aunt Stella cooed once she sighted us, locking Em in a tight hug and pinching her cheeks.

"Auntieeee," Emma groaned.

"I can imagine how that feels," Isabella giggled. "My mum is almost worse than this."

I laughed, shaking my head, turning when Aunt Stella acknowledged me.

"Olivia," Aunt Stella said, pulling me into a warm hug and taking a step back to appraise. 

"Look at you, you've grown so much since the last time I saw you; you look so pretty, just like her."

A bittersweet smile tugged at my lips, and I felt a gentle warmth spreading through my chest. I've always been told I looked like her, and that's the best compliment I could ever receive.

"And who might this pretty young lady be?" she asked, turning to Isabella.

"Oh, this is our roommate, Isabella," Emma said.

"Ciao," Izzy greeted, offering a sheepish smile as Aunt Stella pulled her into a hug.

"You all find a place to sit, and I'll send a waitress to bring you chocolate frappes and muffins, yeah?"

"Absolutely, we'd love that," Izzy replied, leading us toward a booth closer to the window.

As we settled into the cozy booth by the window, Izzy, with her trademark enthusiasm, began painting a vivid picture of our new college life.

"You won't believe the quirks of this place!" she exclaimed, eyes sparkling. 

"There are these wild traditions and events that you never knew could exist. A junior I met on my first day filled me in on all this. This place is like living in a real-life soap opera. First, we've got Social butterflies flitting from one event to another, hunting for their next I*******m-worthy moment. Their social calendars are busier than most people's class schedules."

She paused, taking a sip of her chocolate frappe before diving back into her storytelling. "Then there are the fashion police. Wearing pink on Wednesdays? Totally a crime to them. It's giving Mean Girls vibes. And the academic elitists? You'll find them in the library 24/7, competing for that valedictorian status."

Izzy leaned in, her tone conspiratorial. "Now, brace yourselves for the 'Gamma Epsilon Theta' sorority. Rumor has it their initiation involves a catwalk in stilettos and reciting Shakespearean soliloquies while balancing a stack of textbooks on their heads. They've got perfectly styled hair, designer outfits, and a signature fragrance of condescension. Encountering them is like navigating a maze of judgmental stares and obvious critiques."

She chuckled, glancing around the cafe. "Trust me, I was a victim last week for their passive-aggressive comments. According to them, wearing black polish is disgusting. They looked at me like I'm beneath their elevated status. Ugh, I'm so glad you guys are here. But then again, you might barely encounter them since most of them are majoring in Fashion. I only ran into them because I got lost, and NEVER AGAIN!"

We found ourselves laughing at Izzy's animated storytelling, grateful for the little insight of college stereotypes.