Hope Turner stepped off the campus shuttle, the crisp morning air brushing against her face. She paused for a moment to take in the sprawling university grounds—tall buildings, manicured lawns, students bustling in every direction. The world felt enormous, exciting, and entirely hers for the taking.
She carried her bag over one shoulder, walking with the same confident stride she had carried into the lecture hall later that day. But before classes began, she had one more step to take: settling into her hostel.
Her father had offered generously. "Hope, you can have an apartment near the campus, fully furnished. You'll have comfort, space, and privacy," he had said.
She had smiled, shaking her head. "I want to do it my way. I want to feel what it's like to really live on my own—without anyone making life easy for me."
David had raised an eyebrow, worried but secretly proud. He knew the determination in her eyes—the same fire her mother once carried.
So she had chosen the hostel, a simple but lively place filled with students her age, laughter spilling from corridors, the smell of instant noodles and perfume mingling in the hallways. It wasn't glamorous, but it was hers.
As she carried her bag up the stairs to her room, she wondered what her roommate would be like. Would she be quiet? Loud? Studious or carefree?
Opening the door, she found a girl unpacking clothes with a casual air, her desk already cluttered with notebooks, a laptop, and a small succulent plant. The girl looked up, eyes widening slightly.
"You must be new!" she said brightly, rushing forward. "I'm Zara. And you are…?"
"Hope," she replied with a confident smile, extending her hand. "Hope Turner."
Zara's eyes widened a little more. "Turner? Wow… that's a big name. But I guess you're not just a name, are you?"
Hope laughed softly. "I hope not. And you're…?"
"Zara Khan. But you can call me Zara," she said, dropping her hand into Hope's with ease. There was a spark of immediate connection—an easy warmth, a natural rhythm to the introduction that felt effortless.
They spent the next few minutes unpacking, joking, and trading small stories about high school, family, and why Zara had chosen this university. Hope found herself laughing freely, the sound surprising even her. There was something about Zara—fearless, honest, lively—that made Hope feel like she had found her first anchor in this new world.
By the time they finished, they were already planning to have breakfast together the next morning, exchanging small secrets about their routines and favorite late-night snacks.
Hope Turner, who had inherited her mother's elegance and her father's resilience, had made her first choice at university—not the easy, luxurious option, but the one that would shape her own independence.
And in that small, bustling hostel room, she had also made her first friend—someone who would walk beside her in laughter, support her in challenges, and help her navigate the labyrinth of university life.
For Hope, it felt like the first real step in a life she was ready to claim entirely on her own terms.