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Dahlia sighed as a cool, late-summer breeze blew through her hair. September had started claiming it’s first leaves, their colour changing day by day from a lively green to a soft yellow. They hadn’t started falling yet, though Dahlia figured they would soon, as some leaves sported orange or red or brown tips and were beginning to wither on the branch. In that moment, Dahlia felt at peace. Her eyes closed, head tilting back as she inhaled the last sweet scents summer would offer her for the rest of the year. Her mind settled, and momentarily her mind let go of the knowledge that she’d be moving into a new dorm house with a bunch of other teenagers (eight teens? she couldn’t remember) in less than an hour. Momentarily, she felt right with the world.
And then the car pulled up.
“Uh… Hey. Are you,” the person in the car looked down at their hand and squinted, “D… Doll-e-ah?” They looked up expectantly, their other hand lazily hanging over the wheel.
Dahlia smiled politely, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and leaned down to the passenger window to properly talk to her ‘chaperone’.
“Yep, that’s me… DAHLia… You are…?” She half hoped her tone didn’t sound TOO salty. She half hoped.
“Oh, I’m Nick. I’ll be driving you to the house since nobody else can drive. Just put your stuff in the backseat,” Nick pointed a thumb behind him at the empty seat in the back. Well, ‘empty’ was being generous. There were several different wrappers and empty cans and bottles strewn vicariously across the stained fuzzy seats. Dahlia bit her lip and nodded once, her hand trembling as it opened the door to the backseat. She knocked several items off of the seat and onto the ground (which was littered with even more trash, if that was possible) as she squeezed her over-stuffed suitcase into the seat. After checking to make sure she hadn’t made too big of a mess, she huffed and slammed the door shut.
The car ride to the house was surprisingly short. She almost wished she had walked, then at least she wouldn’t have had to listen to Nick give the ‘low down’ on every member of the household.
“So, Jay is like… My Main Man™. But don’t tell anyone else. It’s a s-e-c-r-e-t. And then there’s Willa. She’s Jay’s best friend. They’re kinda like Dan and Phil, the youtubers, do you know them?” Dahlia gave a passive nod. “Yeah. Jay is Dan and Willa is Phil. Anyway. There’s also Abby and Gabby, good luck remembering which one is which, and Chey and Shannon and Ethan and Jasper,” Nick counted down a finger for each name, and Dahlia’s heart rate sped up slightly because holy shit he wasn’t looking at the road and he only had one hand on the wheel. “Yeah. They’re cool kids. I guess. Sometimes they’re pretty fucking weird, but then again, aren’t we all?”
Dahlia nodded again, and then they were pulling into the driveway of a two story house and Dahlia felt relief wash over her. This kid was fucking weird, and she had only known him for 10 minutes.
Nick didn’t leave the car at all while Dahlia wrestled her bag out of the crevice of the back seat. She tried not to show her saltiness at that, but then again, she would’ve been even more uncomfortable if he had left the car to walk her the 20 feet to the door. She couldn’t imagine spending another minute with the guy.
With a final, polite wave, she dragged her bag up the narrow walkway off of the driveway. The grass that bordered both sides was yellow and dried, probably due to the summer heat it had been exposed to over the past couple of months. At the end of the walkway, a small, one step porch lead to the front door of the house. A sign was hung above the door, and Dahlia had to squint to see what was written. On a strip of cardboard, which was unevenly cut, the phrase “50% is good enough” was written in what looked like blue crayon. She scoffed, rolling her eyes, and rapped her knuckles against the door.
At first, she didn’t hear anything. She turned away from the door to look for Nick, because maybe he had a key, but he had already left. She felt panic swell in her stomach, and her fingers traced over the edges of her phone, which was peeking out of the pocket of her jeans. Her head whipped around, back to the door, and she left out a sigh of relief as a voice came from the other side.
“Coming! One minute!”
Dahlia clutched at the handle of her suitcase, and took in a big breath. She licked her lips and closed her eyes briefly, then put on the friendliest smile she could muster at this moment in time. A series of muffled noises (those of which she couldn’t quite distinguish) came from behind the door before it swung open and a tall figure appeared in the door.
“Hey, you must be Dahlia.”
Dahlia’s smile widened and she nodded and stuck out her hand. The other person reciprocated the greeting, a smile gracing her lips as well.
“I’m Willa, nice to meet you,” Willa moved aside slightly to allow Dahlia entry into the home, “come on in, I’ll show you to your room.”
Dahlia nodded, stepping into the house and slipping off her shoes. Willa led her through the narrow hall, and Dahlia couldn’t help but peek into a room on the right. Her eyes widened slightly in worry at the sight of four people hunched over something, she couldn’t quite make it out, on the floor.
“Oh, yeah, don’t mind them. They’re playing monopoly. They hate each other.”
“Oh.” Dahlia turned her head away from the group and continued after Willa. At the end of the hallway, there was a small stairwell on the left side and straight ahead was the kitchen. Two people were sat at the round table in the middle of the small room, sketchbooks and pencils and markers strewn haphazardly all over it. The two people looked up from their feverish drawing, their expressions blank as they came out of a state of pure concentration.
“Uh, this is Chey,” Willa gestured to the child on the left, “and this is Abby,” she gestured to the person on the right, “they both like to draw, their art is amazing! You should check it out later.” Dahlia nodded and smiled at the pair, who in turn, smiled back, awkwardly, and then resumed their sketching. Willa turned to the stairwell and jumped up the steps two at a time. “Come on, your room awaits.”
Dahlia sighed, her hand gripping the handle of her suitcase even tighter, before she, too, ventured up the steps. Her suitcase banged against every carpeted step, but if she was being completely honest, she didn’t really care. Willa stood atop the stairs, standing in front of a door that was directly across from them.
“So like, we kicked the previous people out of the room so that you could have your own, and like, if you want, you could invite them back in but it’s totally up to you.” Willa smiled, walking into the room. Dahlia felt a twinge of guilt in her stomach, and was about to apologize and ask who they were, when a voice came from downstairs.
“Holy shit, Willa, is she here?!”
Willa sighed and gave Dahlia an apologetic look, Dahlia didn’t know why, and walked over to the stairs. Dahlia dragged her suitcase further into the room and then followed Willa, who was heading down the stairs.
“Yeah, she’s here, but you could wait a bit before terrorizing her? She just got out the car ride with Nick… Plus Gabby’s not here to give comfort…” Willa groaned as she turned the corner, she arms crossing as she looked down at the group on the floor. Dahlia looked at the four of them, trying her hardest not to be a judgmental bitch, because jesus christ these people were insane why did they have war paint on when they were playing monopoly????
“No, this is a tradition, we have to, she needs to be informed.” A boy with green-blue hair proclaimed, standing up from his spot on the floor. Willa sighed again, though a smile was tugging at her lips, and she turned back to Dahlia.
“Okay, so this is Jay,” Jay smiled at Dahlia, though his smile seemed as though it was saying ‘help me I’m dead inside’, “and these people on the ground are Ethan,” Willa pointed to a boy with faded green hair, “Shannon,” then to a little BITCH with pink and blue(?? question mark???) hair, “and Jasper.” and then finally to a SMOL child with black hair. Dahlia smiled at them, though she found it hard to maintain the smile as she was VERY overwhelmed because AHHHHHH they’ve all goT DYED HAIR WTF LITERALLY EVERYONE DOES.
“YEP, okay, now that you’ve been introduced to mostly everyone, let’s go over house rules.” Jay started pacing across the room, his hands linked behind his back. “Rule number one: always knock on someone’s door before you enter. This is important. ALWAYS follow this rule.”
Dahlia nodded. It seemed sensible.
“Rule number two: to add off of rule number one, someone going to their room means they want to be alone. Do not disturb them unless they have told you they don’t mind your company. We have some fragile people in this house, I will hurt you if you break them.” Dahlia made eye contact with one of the people on the ground, Ethan, and he gave her a small smile.
“Rule number three! Do not, under any circumstance, eat an entire jar of Nutella all on your own. Trust me, you’ll regret it and that shit is expensive.” Dahlia was only slightly worried as to why he felt the need to make this a rule, but then again, Dahlia was also pretty sure she was better off not knowing.
“Rule number four: No bringing home fuckboys after 2 am. We would prefer you not bring any home at all, but then again, it’s not our place to judge,” Dahlia felt her face heat up at that remark. “Rule number five: On that note, please don’t talk about any crushes you may have 24/7. I swear, we love you and everything, but we don’t need to hear about how you wanna make out with him, Jas-”
“JAY!”
Shannon and Ethan were practically in tears (and Willa too, though only slightly), while Jasper looked like he was going to die from embarrassment. Dahlia felt bad for him, but at the same time, she kinda felt like she needed the story behind this.
“Rule number six. Timeout is on the fridge. Like, physically on the fridge. At least 30 minutes, though if you really piss me or anyone else off, it could be more.” Dahlia’s eyes widened, and she both prayed she never got timeout and that the fridge was big enough. “Rule number seven: Do not, and I repeat, DO NOT talk to the bitches across the street. They’re rude and they smell bad and they think they own the world,” Jay’s voice trailed off, “honestly, just because you know how to work a fucking drill doesn’t mean everyone has to kiss your ass, Matthew…”
“Uh… Is that all…?” Dahlia started backing away slowly towards the door, though Willa stopped her, whispering a ‘not quite, sorry’.
“Nope! Not at all, still a few more to go!” Jay clapped his hands together. “ALRIGHT, so, where was I?”
“Rule number eight.”
“Rule number eight! If you are going to get turnt, please get turnt with the rest of the squad, it’s more fun and way less sad than if you were alone. Rule number nine: fuck up anyone’s pronouns and you’re dead to me. Rule number ten: if someone comes to the door and asks for anyone, the correct answer is, “Sorry, you just missed them.” That way, we have some time to figure out how we’ll get rid of the body, and they won’t bother sticking around to wait for you. Rule number eleven,” Dahlia was starting to regret moving out, “Denny’s in the automatic meeting place if we need to evacuate the house. Literally NOBODY would look in a fucking Denny’s, those placing are fucking shit.”
Ethan, Shannon, Willa (who had someone moved to the floor without Dahlia’s noticing) and Jasper had all laid down, various limbs strewn all over each other, in what appeared to be a mass cuddling group.
“Ah yes, that brings me to the next rule. Rule number twelve: when in doubt, form a Cuddle Puddle™. Rule number thirteen: all fights are to be sorted in one of three ways; monopoly, mario kart, or uno. Rule number fourteen: the food in the fridge that have the labels ‘Jay’s, don’t touch’, should be pretty straight forward. They should be. Don’t disappoint me.”
Dahlia could feel a headache coming on and she honestly just wanted to go sleep.
“Rule number fifteen: do not talk about the cat in the vent upstairs. Rule number sixteen: forget I mentioned rule fifteen. Rule number seventeen: if you have any questions, you’re fucked, and finally, rule number eighteen: if you’re going to come up with creative places to pee, you need to be ready to clean up after yourself. ALRIGHT. Any questions?”
Dahlia felt the eyes of the entire room on her, and she swallowed the lump in her throat before letting out a shaky “Nope!” Jay smiled, nodded, and sat back down on the floor to join the ‘cuddle puddle’. Dahlia stared at the group for a second, then excused herself. She would need to spend a lot of time adjusting to her new living quarters.
“Oh yeah, and the rules are posted on the fridge!” Jay’s voice rang out through the house. Dahlia shouted back an “okay thanks!” before she bolted up the stairs. She’d definitely need some time to adjust. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, living here with a group of smelly teenagers. Maybe.