Ten minutes later, I step uncertainly up to the front door and slide my key card into the scanner. The man in student services assured me that this is where I’m living for the next four years and that there’s no mistake—despite the mix-up with my name, which keeps reverting back to Lockwood on the file, even though he changed it to Kennedy twice while we were on the call.

After protests that it must be wrong, I was passed over to a manager who seemed surprised that I’d been roomed in Collinswood, because apparently scholarship kids are normally put in the town houses closest to campus. When I asked to be moved to one of those, she laughed, asked me if I was serious, then told me all the housing was full and Collinwood House was the only room available if I wanted to stay on campus.

The sound of a clock ticking greets me as I step inside the palatial home. My eyes quickly roam over the space as I inhale the scent of furniture polish and lemon cleaner. Dark wood and Gothic grandeur surround me and for the hundredth time in the last thirty seconds, I consider running away and back to the comfort of mine and my dad’s apartment. As I step inside, the front door closes shut behind me and I startle, jumping forward and nearly tripping over my case beside me.

Not wanting to invade private space, I step forward and glance into the rooms off the main entrance hall. There’s a living room, with comfortable-looking couches and a large TV. A formal dining room that I doubt ever gets used in a houseful of college kids, a massive kitchen with a glass-fronted refrigerator full of beer, and an honest to goodness library with a real fireplace and wingback chairs.

Climbing the stairs, dragging my case behind me, I find suites one and two on the first floor and three, four and five on the second. There’s a scanner lock on each door, the same as the one on the front door, and I slide my card into the lock on the room marked with a number five. It beeps and the sound of a lock disengaging fills the silence.

Pushing it open, I find another set of stairs instead of the bedroom I was expecting. Groaning at the thought of carrying my case any farther, I grit my teeth and start to climb. My room is located in the turret you can see at the front of the house, it’s a vaguely hexagonal shape with a metal-framed bed and dark wood furniture that looks great against the walls that are painted a pale-blue color. Wallpaper has been hung in panels on some of the walls, and two doors lead off the room into what I’m assuming are a closet and a bathroom.

Leaving my case in the doorway, I step toward the window and stare out at the view. From this high up, I can see the neighboring couple of houses and the campus off in the distance. I might not feel like I should be living in this huge, expensive house, but there’s no way I’m going to complain about this room; it’s stunning.