Page 13 of Jump on Three

Room 3’s True Occupant

I left the note on the desk and trudged into room one.

Two hours later, wrapped in the hoodie I kept in my bag, the hood over my head, I could still feel the air attacking my neck. Fortunately, Layla’s Spanish homework didn’t require extreme accuracy, but I’d given up on completing statistics.

I tossed my things in my bag and yanked open the door. A piece of paper fluttered to the ground.

With a frown, I bent and picked it up, reading the sloppy handwriting.

Dear Room 1 Occupant,

Hello. How are you? Did you get your work done today?

I think we need to discuss things further. I’m not understanding why you need room 3 when you have room 1. I must say, I enjoy room 3.

Text me: 555-410-3876

-Room 3’s New Tenant

I folded the note, then folded it again and again until it was a tiny square, and stuffed it in my pocket. This…this…boy thought himself funny. And he was right. He didn’t understand.

Sitting at the nearest table, I took out my phone and sent him a text.

Me: I received your note.

Squatter: Hello! How was your study time?

Me: Will you be using room 3 tomorrow?

Squatter: No small talk? I see. Yes, that was my plan. It’s a good room.

Me: Did you stop to consider someone else had been using it before you decided to steal it?

Squatter: You know, it isn’t nice to accuse me of thievery when I signed up for the room according to the rules. It is not my fault you’re unable to follow the rules as well.

I huffed at that. Unable to follow rules? He had no idea. Rules were my favorite. They were awesome. The world was a brighter, more welcoming place when I understood the rules.

Me: I love rules. Until a few days ago, I was unaware I had to sign up for the room given I was the only one to ever use it.

Squatter: It’s a good thing you know now. If you get to the library before me, you can sign up for 3.

Me: As you seem to have your final class right beside the library, that won’t happen.

Squatter: Hmmm. I guess that means I will be enjoying my room in peace. You’ll get used to 1.

Me: Are you being smug?

Squatter: Maybe a little. I have to tell you, the note you left wasn’t very nice. It set the mood for our interactions.

Me: That’s because I wasn’t feeling nice toward you.

Squatter: And now?

Me: My mood is bleak.

Squatter: No, don’t give up! Who knows, I might not need to use the room in a week or two, then you can have it back for a day.

Me: You must be an only child. It’s the only explanation for your audacious entitlement.

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