The Erstwhile campus is a lovely sight in the late summer. Century old buildings of brown brick and cream stone mingle with those of newer construction on rolling hills surrounded by maples, oaks, carefully shaped junipers, and beautiful ivy that crawls along the ground and up the sides of some of the older buildings. Pathways seemed less concerned with the most prudent and time saving manner of getting places and more concerned with winding beautifully through the campus and around the trees. There are tables, chairs, and benches here and there, but away from the cafes and food halls, most people seem to prefer to sit in the grass and lean against a tree trunk or spread a blanket out while they organize their notes. But this weekend, the usual grace, beauty, and rhythm of students coming and going is unusually onesided. It is move in weekend, and cars line every street, students and parents tromp up and down stairs hauling in boxes tied together or taped or falling apart, bags and furniture and lanyards with keys. It is as though the entire campus has taken a giant breath and embraced those new and old who are coming home to her halls. Ivy Hall, so called because it is one of the oldest, and thus most covered buildings on campus, is more officially known as Brendly Hall, after one of the University’s founders. It has undergone numerous interior renovations, but none in the past fifteen years that haven’t been absolutely necessary. As such, it isn’t the most perfect place to live, but it could be much worse. Each room has two beds, two desks, two dressers, a few mirrors, and closet space. Rooms on each end of each floor have adjoining bathrooms, but the majority do not and their inhabitants must share bathrooms and showers. Ivy Hall is a co-ed dorm, with alternating men’s and women’s floors. It is ten stories high, including the bottom floor which is devoted to study rooms and gathering places. Each floor also has a communal kitchen and a central room jokingly referred to as a solarium and meant for studying. Baker Davis is exceptionally happy to be in Ivy Hall. He’s roomed here before, knows the Resident Assistants, and knows precisely what he can get away with. He is rooming in room 202, an end room with a bathroom precisely across the hall from the RA, so that he has an alibi should anything break, go wrong, or flood. *** Baker dropped the last box in the corner. The desk had been pushed as far up against the wall as it would go, and his computer, television, and dvd player were stacked with several boxes and blocked the windows on his side of the room. A few more boxes were here and there, left in various states of unpacking. Already, the bed had his sheets and blankets haphazardly thrown upon it. A bag of clothes, ones he hadn’t quite gotten around to washing before coming back for his Junior year, leaned against the bed, spilling out dirty socks and boxers. His clean clothes were shoved into the dresser whose drawers protested the treatment by refusing to close fully. The only spot of clean was his drum kit, which had been tucked into the only free space on his side and bordered on the middle of the room. Baker grinned. He could unpack this later. A minifridge had been tucked away beneath his desk and he had been given a generous gift of a 24 pack of his favorite soda. As he went about unloading the soda into the fridge, he hummed to himself. Hopefully this year would go better than last year. Hell, it had to.