The saying goes that college is a new chapter in our lives. It is new responsibilities, practices, knowledge, locations, and people. We get assigned rooms and class schedules, which is something that we are all used to from back home. The one thing that we are not used to, however, is the one person we will be sharing all of this with: the roommate.

The beautiful thing about social media nowadays is the fact that we are able to look up—more like stalk—other people that were accepted into our own respective schools. We look at their interests, hobbies, majors, and photos that make up their entire profile. It’s easy because it’s all there, right in front of us, just waiting for our approval or disapproval. We comment on bios, like random posts on the college page, and participate in the occasional group discussion. If we feel risky, we message them and cross our fingers that they respond, or wonder if we just made a huge mistake. It goes on and on until it is time to do the housing application. We click random, or we input the ID numbers if we know who we are going to room with. Once the submit button is hit, we sit back in our chairs and relax.

This relaxation period was short-lived by me, about five minutes after the Emerson College housing application was submitted. I wasn’t worried that I wouldn’t be living with the six girls that I agreed to room with, but quite the opposite. I was worried about living living with them. Back home in California, it was my mom, my dad, my two younger brothers, and myself. I had lived in close quarters with boys my whole life. I was used to tripping over action figures, putting the toilet seat down for the millionth time, and the yelling at video games in the early hours of the morning. Living with girls my own age was a completely foreign concept to me. I had sleepovers, overnight games, and one sleep away camp where I was living with girls, but I had never lived with them for more than three weeks. So this could have taken some getting used to.

I had a definite advantage over those who had chosen the random roommate option. I started talking to one girl, Jenna, back in December 2015, and the other two, Leena and Camille, back in February 2016. We had a lot of the same interests: drinking tea, One Direction, meditation, Chainsmokers, books, movies, Mexican food, Italian food, yoga, concerts, sports. The list was endless. We were talking all the time over text, and would often Snapchat each other pictures of our hometowns or dogs. We liked each other a lot for what we saw on paper, or the small screens that we call our phones. It wasn’t until the last two girls, Tanya and Noa, were added that we actually asked the question: What if we don’t like each other? This question stumped all of us. It was the type of question that probably should have been the first we asked, but quickly knocked to the bottom because we were all so excited that we were actually going off to college. We all hoped that we would like each other, but the fact was that we had no idea. As the saying goes: people can be different on paper than in person.

Two weeks later, move-in day was upon us. It was exciting yet awkward all at the same time. I remember meeting Jenna, and that very long awkward silence where we didn’t really know what to do. Do we hug? Shake hands? Simply say hi and wave hands? Completely ignore each other? We both went for the hug option, and that is how we greeted Camille, Lenna, Tanya, and Noa. It was all great, and thank god it is still that way.

Don’t worry, we have had our ups and downs as roommates. Girls are not perfect, even though we occasionally wish we were. I was scared about the clothe-stealing, boyfriend stealing, backstabbing roommates that my older friends and cousins have told me about. Yet I have not experienced that yet. The biggest argument we have had so far is whose hair always ends up in the shower drain, and if they would please clean it up after getting out of the shower. It’s not a big deal, and we all handled it with respect.

My roommates and I are practically inseparable. From gym time to three a.m. dance parties, there are at least two of us always together. It got to the point where we printed out class schedules and put up a monthly calendar in our own common room so that we would know who was able to hang out. One of my roommates wasn’t feeling well the second week of school, and we all set Gatorade, Advil, saltines, and tissues outside her door and checked in on her occasionally to see how she was doing. If one of us is gone for more than thirty minutes when we don’t have class, our phones get blown up with questions like “Where you at?” or “Are you okay?!” We have created our own traditions: regular projector movie nights, pasta dinners, and card nights, such as The Voting Game. We ask each other for advice about clothes, boys, and captions for our Instagrams. Jenna teases us about how we all have early morning classes on Fridays, and Leena and Camille get us pumped up for their sports games coming up. Our little friend group was solidified when we all agreed to be one theme for Halloween: Wizard of Oz. It’s been super fun.

I didn’t walk into a house full of complete strangers; I ran into one with a new family inside it. I had never lived with girls before, but so far the experience has been a positive one. Living with girls has been great, and so far not a problem. Then again, it has only been the first month of school, and we have another seven months together. Hopefully they will all be as awesome as September.