THE WIZARD

Amery Faux

As I sprinted toward the university's notice board, a tumultuous mix of excitement and apprehension stirred within me. The midday sun cast a warm glow on the campus, but my mind was preoccupied with who would be my roommate for the upcoming year. I was fully aware that two girls would share one room, and the mystery of whom I would be living with was consuming me. Who would I share my space with? Would we click, or would our differences create friction?

My heart raced as I ran my pointer along the neatly printed list of names and room numbers. Each tick of my heartbeat echoed my anticipation. Finally, my gaze settled upon my name, meticulously displayed next to room number 207. A rush of adrenaline surged through me as I spotted the name alongside mine—the girl who would become my roommate for at least the next academic year. Our institution had a strict policy, allowing for room changes only after the completion of the first year, and that was only under specific circumstances, such as mutual agreement or personal reasons only the roommates could understand.

“Elizabeth White is your roommate?” My friend Abigail exclaimed, her eyes widening in disbelief. “Do you realize she hails from a ridiculously affluent family? Her father, Mr. John White, is the CEO of a massive multinational company!” At this point, she leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Word has it, she’s incredibly haughty and far too enamored with the lavish lifestyle that comes with her wealth.”

The mention of the word ‘affluent’ made me involuntarily flinch, as if I had been struck by a wave of uncertainty. How on earth was I expected to navigate the complexities of living with someone so far removed from my own reality? While she likely indulged in extravagant shopping sprees and received hefty allowances, my financial situation was starkly different. I wondered how I would manage to share a roof with someone whose life seemed so unattainably luxurious, living in a world where our experiences felt like two opposing ends of the spectrum.

As I gathered my thoughts, a knot formed in my stomach as I envisioned a cold reception, a stiff formality that often accompanies fresh encounters. With weighted steps, I made my way to room 207, each stride filled with a mix of trepidation and determination.

Upon arriving, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over me when I realized that Elizabeth had not yet arrived. The room was bare, giving me a moment to breathe before my new life began to unfold. I set about unpacking my meager belongings—items that held sentimental value rather than monetary worth. The act of arranging my things started to calm my nerves, offering a small glimpse of solace amidst the emotional upheaval. There was no telling what the year ahead would hold, but one thing was certain: I was determined to make the best of the situation, stepping boldly into this new chapter of my life.

Elizabeth White

As I made a determined dash toward the notice board, my heart raced like a drum, echoing the bubbling excitement mixed with apprehension about whom I would be living with—my roommate for the next year, a person with whom I would share not just a living space but countless moments of daily life. This was not just a matter of convenience but a pivotal decision that could shape my entire freshman experience. The policy at our institution allowed for room changes beginning in the second year, providing a slight relief for those who found themselves mismatched with their original roommates, but for now, it was a one-year commitment. During that time, I would be wading through the ups and downs of campus life alongside someone I either got along with splendidly or found utterly intolerable.

As I scanned the list of names affixed to the board, my eyes landed on my own: Elizabeth White, Room Number 207. Right next to it was the name that would signify both promise and potential peril—Amery Faux. At that moment, I felt a mix of intrigue and unease. The name itself was unique and interesting, yet my instinct was to develop an aversion to her before even knowing her.

Some of my classmates, standing by my side scrutinizing the list, nudged me upon reading my roommate's name. “Amery Faux, so she is the one who will be your bosom pal,” they guffawed. “Lucky girl, this Amery Faux is to have a complete package of beauty, brains, and wealth as a roommate.” They rolled their eyes. “We are sure she wouldn't have seen the kind of money that you have. All the best,” they cooed, and I did not miss the tinge of sarcasm in their tone. Walking with heavy steps, I reached room 207, only to find the door ajar.

I found Amery already settled in. A plump girl with a wheatish complexion, hair matted and done unaesthetically.

Involuntarily, my face contorted, giving rise to wrinkles that meandered from my creased forehead down my face. I noticed her keenly.

She was seated comfortably at her side of the room, meticulously arranging her belongings on the shelf as if preparing for an elaborate display. My gaze flickered toward the west-facing window, which she had already claimed as her own. 'Very smart,' I thought sarcastically to myself. The way the morning light would spill into the room would undoubtedly allow her to sleep in blissful ignorance of the outside world—an act I couldn't help but label as "lazy." It seemed that she was already determined to be the kind of person who relished every last moment of sleep, as though she was planning to hibernate through her entire college experience. “Does she ever study?” I wondered, still trying to discover how she got into this university where the intelligent lot vibed for a seat. If I was being judgemental, I really did not care.

I need to highlight a pivotal achievement in my academic journey: I secured the second position in my final year of high school. Oh, how I often lament the fact that if it hadn't been for my unacknowledged dread of Mathematics, I might very well have claimed the top spot. Mathematics had consistently been a thorn in my side, a formidable challenge that transformed my perception of the subject into an insurmountable mountain. A deep-seated belief had taken root within me, evolving into a monstrous fear that led me to view it as an incredibly daunting discipline. Despite my relentless efforts to dispel this anxiety, every attempt to conquer my fear ended in failure.

Fortunately, gaining admission into this prestigious university was a relatively straightforward endeavor, thanks to my stellar academic performance. I found myself wondering about my new roommate: Did she also achieve equally outstanding grades? It was essential to ponder this question since this university only accepted students who met a high standard of academic excellence. Yet, as I scrutinized her appearance, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. The vacant expression on her face and the artificial grin she wore only deepened my suspicions about her capabilities as a student.

At that moment, a whirlwind of emotions surged within me. The potential challenges that lay ahead of me were daunting, but simultaneously, I was filled with a sense of curiosity about what the future might hold. Could this potentially uncomfortable living arrangement evolve into a meaningful friendship? The uncertainty of this prospect was almost tangible, yet one thing was clear: I was prepared to embrace this new chapter of my life, regardless of the twists and turns it might take.

AMERY FAUX

Abigail's assessment resounded true. The very demeanor of my new roommate dripped with an air of self-importance, and one couldn't help but attribute some of that haughtiness to her privileged background. After all, she was the daughter of a wealthy father. Should I take the initiative and extend a welcoming gesture, or might it be more prudent to wait for her to engage in the customary exchange of pleasantries?

Another lingering question weighed on my mind: What were her academic grades? If she successfully secured admission to this esteemed institution, it was reasonable to assume that she performed well in her studies, particularly given the university’s rigorous standards for accepting students. But did she score higher than I did? I found myself feeling doubtful about her academic potential; after all, I was the top student in my school, having achieved perfect scores in nearly all of my core subjects.

However, the reality was apparent—whether or not I was ready, we had to establish some form of rapport. After all, we would be sharing the same living space for the entirety of the academic year. It was time to break the ice and make a start.

***********************************************************************

"Hi," Amery said, flashing a bright grin that lit up her face and instantly softened the atmosphere of the room. In response, Elizabeth offered a casual wave of her hands, attempting to mirror Amery’s enthusiasm even though she was feeling a bit out of place.

"I'm Amery Faux," Amery introduced herself, her wide smile radiating warmth. "And you must be Eli.....?"

"Elizabeth White," came the reply, Elizabeth’s voice barely rising above the chips of excitement bouncing off the walls.

"I saw your name on the notice board," Amery remarked, her voice colored with a light, almost teasing drawl that brought a sense of familiarity with it.

As Elizabeth took in her appearance, it was clear that Amery’s wardrobe told a story of its own—each choice a testament to her modest beginnings. She wore a midi skirt fashioned from simple linen, a timeless yet understated piece that spoke to her preferences, paired with an unpretentious top that seemed almost a playful jab at contemporary fashion trends.

Feeling somewhat deflated by the realization of their different backgrounds, Elizabeth turned her focus inward as she tried to organize her belongings in their shared living space. Her collection of clothing seemed almost excessive compared to her roommate’s minimalist selection; Elizabeth estimated her own outfits were nearly three times the amount of Amery’s, a stark reflection of Elizabeth’s privileged lifestyle. She shoved clothes into the cupboard designated for her side of the room, but her efforts were met with resistance as Elizabeth struggled to find space.

Curiously, Amery leaned over, her eyebrows arching slightly at the avalanche of garments spilling out of the overstuffed cupboard. "You can use one shelf of my cupboard; it's nearly empty," she offered generously.

With little choice available, Elizabeth shyly accepted her kind offer and began tucking some of her clothing into Amery’s designated space, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment. The initial resentment slowly began to thaw like an ice block subjected to warm weather.

As Elizabeth began to ponder the financial logistics of how Amery was able to enroll in this prestigious course, assuming she had made the academic cut-off, she surveyed Amery’s modest attire again. There was no mistaking the fact that Amery came from a middle-class background—so unlike her own, rooted in privilege.

"Did you manage to get any sort of fee waiver?" Elizabeth asked, her curiosity getting the better of her, though she was careful to keep her tone neutral, not wanting to sound condescending.

At that very moment, a group of vibrant girls burst through the door, their chatter filling the room with energy. "Hi, Amery! We’re on the floor below," they exclaimed in unison, enveloping Amery in hugs before shifting their attention toward Elizabeth.

Elizabeth mustered a smile as one of them extended her hand for a friendly shake. "You’re lucky to have Amery as a roommate. We’re not sure how good you are at Mathematics, but we can guarantee you won't outshine her. She has never scored less than centum in that subject and is the gold medalist at the national level in Mathematical quizzes. Her grades have always been exemplary," her schoolmates quipped, a sparkle in their eyes.

Elizabeth felt her heart take a plunge. Mathematics, her greatest adversary, loomed heavily in her mind, and the prospect of asking for help made her feel vulnerable.

Brushing aside her unease, Elizabeth stepped toward Amery, sensing a budding camaraderie. "I consider myself fortunate to have you as my roommate,” she confessed, urgency coloring her words. "Mathematics is a subject I truly dread. I have been contemplating taking extra tutorship for that subject. But now I have a wizard like you as my roommate? What more could I possibly ask for? Would you mind helping me out?"

Amery realized that the girl standing before her may have been haughty, but she was now her friend, asking for help in her studies. A surge of enthusiasm rushed through her body. Her accommodating nature surfaced in a daze; Amery nodded enthusiastically, and the other girls chimed in, confirming that she had been the top performer in their school and was considered a prodigy. As they shared stories, Elizabeth learned that Amery's father had tragically passed away in an accident at the factory where he worked just last year. The depth of her loss hung heavy in the air for a moment.

"The school was so impressed by Amery’s outstanding performance in the final year that several philanthropists stepped forward to fund her education at this esteemed university," one of them explained, admiration evident in her voice. They exchanged affectionate hugs with Amery once more before making their exit.

"How about we grab a cup of coffee and some snacks at the hostel canteen? I’m absolutely starving," Elizabeth suggested, deliberately lightening the mood. There was a moment of hesitation in Amery’s expression, and Elizabeth quickly picked up on her unspoken concerns. "Come on," she encouraged, a smile creeping onto her lips, "the bill's on me—now and forever—because you’re officially my tutor starting tomorrow! Let us say that would be the fee I pay."

The sound of their laughter echoed joyously through the corridor, marking the beginning of what was sure to be an unexpected but promising friendship.

Note: All the names of characters used in the story are fictional. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, is purely coincidental and unintentional.