ZARA

This stairs, to be honest, is long to begin with. Panting and sweating even though she has just arrived at Breeburn University, Zara lunges her two suitcases up the stairs, all at once, nearly ripping her arms out.

"Move, for heaven's sake, you bloody shits!" She swears angrily at her suitcases. Up on the landing stands a long line of students, also moving into the hostel, and all of them stare and giggle at her predicament.

"You know," a guy's voice breaks through the laughing, "you can actually bring them up one at a time. Or even ask for help." He leans over the landing's balustrade, his longish dirty blond hair falling into his eyes, a smile playing around at his lips.

Zara stops and looks up at him. She decides he is pretty decent looking, his cheekbones are pretty high, and the only break in his smooth defined skin is the dimple that forms in his right cheek as he smiles.

"Okay," she proclaims loudly to him. "Will you help me?" Then she adds, "please?" Because it's still her first day, and also, she's not a goddess.

"Sure!" The boy bounds down to where she is, takes up one suitcase and easily carries it up the stairs.

Behind him, Zara's struggle has been eased.

"What's your room number?" He asks when they are on the landing.

Zara clumsily shuffles through her shoulder bag and pulls out a room allocation sheet, while simultaneously trying to get her dark hair out of her eyes. "It's, um, 1995."

The boy beckons to his right. "That's this way."

"I'm Jay, by the way, Jay Matthews." He leans over to shake Zara's hand.

"Zara Anderson." She replies.

As they rolls the suitcases along to the room, Zara only hopes that her roommate/best friend since childhood is already there.