Guardian Girl (The Chronicles of Staffordshire) by NC Simmons Read Free Book Online Page B

from left to right by her preference for the city. Tokyo. Rome. Paris. Madrid. New York held prominence over her meticulously ordered workspace.
    Sitting at her desk and scanning the room, Lenore beamed at the quality of her handiwork. “Everything is perfect! It is so beautiful! I cannot wait for my roommate to arrive! I hope she loves what I have done with our room!”
    A knock came at the door.
    “Please come in! It is unlocked!” Lenore called.
    An Asian woman in a gray business suit and pumps entered the room.
    “Are you Señorita De La Fuente?”
    “Yes. I am Lenore De La Fuente.”
    The woman approached Lenore with her hand extended, a white index card in her grip. “I’m so glad you are here, Señorita! I wanted to let you know… Your roommate finally confirmed this morning. This is her information card. We don’t have much information about her, but I wanted you to know her name before she arrived.” The woman handed Lenore a card with absolutely nothing on it save the name. No hometown, no major, no likes and dislikes. Just the name.
    Lenore flipped the card over to see if perhaps there was more information on the back. Nothing.
    “Malena Sardi? That is all the information you have?”
    “Yes. I’m sorry, Señorita. I don’t know anything about her. She just confirmed this morning. I think she’s some kind of an athlete or… Or… Or something. I don’t really know. I’m not into sports. Oh well! Have a nice day!” The dorm parent turned and sped out of the room, getting on with her next move-in day chore.
    “Malena Sardi,” Lenore repeated, smiling at the card. “That is such a beautiful name! It flows so beautifully from the tongue! I hope she will be a good roommate.”
    The cover girl college freshman decided to fill her time with constructive reading. Lenore rose from her desk, propped the door, and returned to her seat, quietly reading a copy of The Financial Times.
    An hour later, Lenore heard the sound of a hurricane storming down the hall. A girl shouted rudely, hunting for her room. “Hey! Does anyone here know where 1426 is? 1426? Anyone? Hey! Do any of you people speak English?”
    “My God! 1426! It is her! It is my new roommate!”
    Lenore stood to welcome the girl and put on her best photo-op smile. The last-minute admit stumbled through the opening and bashed the door into Lenore’s closet, struggling with two oversized, green canvas duffel's slung low from her broad, muscular shoulders.
    Lenore’s first glimpse of the Anti-Lenore gave her a foretaste of the challenges to come. She gasped.
    “ Dear God! She is not wearing a bra!"
    The polar opposite of graceful, elegant Lenore, 18-year-old American tennis star Malena “Lena” Sardi arrived at Paulson with a hard-earned international reputation as a non-stop party. No less beautiful, (when she bothered to prepare herself), equally statuesque at 5’8”, and a muscular size-6, Lena trekked a raw, earthy path. The square-faced, dimpled, Mediterranean beauty presented herself wearing a tight, white T-top, snug, low-rise, boot cut jeans, and tennis shoes. She had her hair up in a haphazard, “Who gives a damn? I’m at college!” ponytail.
    “HEY! ROOMIE!” the pony-tailed girl enthused. “Are you Lennie?”
    Not amused at the girl’s butchering of her name, Lenore faked a smile and extended her hand in hopeful friendship. “Hello. Yes… I am Lenore De La Fuente. I am pleased to meet you. Are you Malena?”
    The new roommate unceremoniously dumped her duffels, kicked them toward her desk, then spun and kicked the door shut. Twirling back toward Lenore on the ball of her right foot, Lena reached out and slapped Lenore’s outstretched hand in a low five. “Mah-lee-na? Who the hell is Mah-lee-na? I’m Lee-na. Just Lena. And it’s nice meeting you, too, sweetie!”
    Lena stepped back, crossed her arms, and did a double take. “HOLY CRAP! You look… My God ! You’re frigging AMAZING! You’re some kind of a knockout!