An Unconventional Arrangement
#1 of An Unconventional Education
(Note: This story arc follows the one detailed in "The Story of Cattanzo and Everyone Else." While it will be a complete story on its own and should eventually have enough explanation for new readers, for the complete background you may want to read the original arc, which starts here: _) _
"And so, with all of the items tallied up, here's the total cost for your first year of college!" The counselor grinned and handed the sheet of paper to me over her desk. I sat back in the chair and glanced at the paper, and even though I was already sweltering on a hot July afternoon, I could practically feel the color drain from my face.
Too much. Far too much. Four years of scraping things together, studying with a vengeance, tests, extracurriculars... finally, a letter of acceptance from a college I'd been interested in attending, and now this: defeated by a number on a piece of paper. Tuition? I could afford that. Books? Fees? No problem. Add on room and board, though, and all of a sudden, things were looking less than ideal. Sure, I had money saved up from summer jobs, and a college fund from my parents that would go part of the distance, but... that number was far too much. I could afford one year, maybe two if I worked my butt off in whatever free time I had, but four? Not a chance.
I looked back up at the counselor, the look of disappointment surely evident on my face, and I could see her brow furrow beneath her wire-rimmed spectacles in response.
"Is everything all right?"
"Well..." I hesitated, trying to figure out what to say, trying to think of any possible solution. "I mean, the room and board, it's, well... Are there any other options? If that's the rate for a single room, what if I do a double? Or a triple, or something that's not so..." ridiculously expensive, I didn't say.
The counselor looked at me for a moment, frowning. "Unfortunately, there's not a lot of room to maneuver there. That's the price for a standard double-occupancy room - what single rooms we do have go for even more, and due to the revamped fire codes, we're not really allowed to squeeze in more than two to a standard room anymore. Very rarely we do give waivers for freshman to seek off-campus housing, but that's almost always if they live at home with their parents nearby; with rents around here, off-campus housing wouldn't be any cheaper." She paused, her eyes glancing up into the distance as she thought. After a moment, though, the frown vanished from her face, and she turned to her computer and began typing rapidly on it.
"I think we've already gone over the financial aid options, but sometimes there are a bit less conventional living arrangements. If you can live with and help out a student with special needs, sometimes they'll give a break on the room costs..." The clattering of keys continued, and I couldn't think of anything to do but stare at her as she worked, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Uh huh, Mm hmm... yes, here we go, let's see if there's..." The clattering stopped abruptly, and a supremely puzzled look flashed across the counselor's face. "Huh... that's new. In fact, I've never seen anything like that before."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"There's a new program that just showed up today. Most of the programs are set up well in advance, so for something new to just pop up like this..." She paused, glancing over at the screen. "That, and there's not much information. It's not a college program directly - it's something that's apparently paid for by the feds as part of a new grant program. It'll cover 80% of the room and board, provided you commit to living on campus all four years. And - this is really odd - it's contingent on you moving into the dorms next week, even though classes don't start up until September. This is definitely weird, and there's gotta be one hell of a catch..." She scrolled down, and suddenly her expression paled.
I could feel a grinding nervousness building in my chest, knowing that there would almost certainly be a major reason why the housing was so heavily subsidised. Was I going to be dealing with someone who had serious issues, or was a paroled axe murderer, or something even worse? Even so, given how good the upsides were... "Whatever the catch, I'd still like to hear what it is, at least."
"All right..." the counselor paused, adjusting her glasses, before looking me right in the eyes.
"You've heard of those... chimeras, I take it?" I nodded, of course - you'd have to have been hiding in a cave somewhere with no television to miss hearing about that. The thing with the blue fuzzy people, the Cano Sapiens from years before, had received more than enough press on its own, and the recent revelation that rogue scientists had created even more, tens of thousands of diverse hybrid creatures, had caused a worldwide furore. The news coverage was beginning to wind down slightly, but it was hardly something anyone could have forgotten. I certainly hadn't, following the story as eagerly as I did any news of interest, but after the big reveal no one had seemed to know just what was going to happen to them, or even where they'd gone after the government raided the labs. Of course, I didn't particularly thing the term "chimera" was a fitting one for them, inasmuch as it portrayed an image of some sort of bestial, alien creature, but it was the first term the media had coined, and it had evidently stuck in the minds of most people.
The counselor leaned in closer. "While it's not exactly spelled out in this listing, I'm almost sure this has something to do with it. On the bottom of the listing, there's a government agency logo, and it looks like the one they had at those government press conferences. Plus, I heard the ones they'd found were around high-school age, so it makes sense they'd find a way to ship them off to college. If I had to guess what this is about, they probably have a bunch of chimeras that they need to socialize into human society somehow, and if you want to be their guinea pig, they'll pay for your accomodations..."
"Well, that doesn't sound so bad..."
"Hmm... well, maybe. From what I'm reading here, though, there are a few more restrictions, and if you choose this option, you'll have to be sure you can get along with them somehow. It says here that if you don't work out, the other "program participants" have a right to kick you out, and your options for switching to a regular dorm at that point will be much more limited... and much more expensive. Still willing to consider it?"
"Um... yeah, I think so..." I stammered. The nervous feeling in my chest was certainly continuing to grow, and from her statement, I wasn't quite sure what to think. On the other hand, the thought of rooming with chimeras was actually somewhat intriguing. As a person with a keen interest in science, there I was with a chance to get to know an entirely new species firsthand, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement as I wondered what it would be like to interact with them.
"Okay, so you want to proceed with the application, then?"
I hesitated for a long moment before answering, toying with the idea in my mind, although it didn't really take all that long for curiosity to win out. "Yes... yes, I do."
"All right. Can't say it'd be my choice, but if you're brave enough to chance it..." The counselor looked back at the computer screen, typing in a few notations.
"Hmm, okay. The application popped up a supplemental survey while I was entering in your details, and there are a few questions that it wants me to ask you directly. First: how do you feel about homosexuality?"
"Um, er... why do they want to know that?"
The counselor looked at me with a slight glare. "I'm just reading what it says on the form. So?"
"Uh... I haven't really thought about it... I mean, I had some friends in high school that were, and I worked with the school's gay/straight alliance club on some extracurricular stuff, but-"
"Eh, good enough." She made another notation, raising her eyebrows a little at the next question. "Okay... next: fur, scales, or chitin?"
"What?" I could see her giving me another glare, and I hastily revised my answer. "Er, I mean... fur? I guess?"
"Fine." Another clattering of keys. "Any allergies to pet fur or dander?"
"I don't think so..."
"Right. Okay, last question: A comprehensive psychological questionnaire will be mailed to you as part of this application. Are you willing to fill out this questionnaire truthfully, and waive your right to confidentiality so that it may be reviewed by government personnel?"
"Um... yeah, sure, I think that's okay..."
"All right. I'll just fill this in and... there! Application sent. You'll get the questionnaire overnighted to you, and they'll let you know if the application is approved as soon as you return it. If you are accepted, however, you should be prepared to begin residency within 48 hours of notification." She paused, looking at me quizzically. "Can't say I'd want to be in your shoes if you do get it, but who knows, maybe it'll work out for you..."
The meeting was quickly over, and I left the counselor's office with about equal parts hope and trepidation. It was, on the surface, a great opportunity: a chance to go to the college of my choice, in a way that I could afford, and with the added opportunity to learn about a new species, maybe even a new culture, firsthand. That, and the idea of a bunch of roommates covered in fur was, I soon realized, somehow inexplicably appealing, in a way that soon manifested unbidden in a handful of unusually vivid dreams. On the other hand, though, something about the counselor's comments nagged at my subconscious, generating a background hum of anxiety - after all, I was about to step into a completely unknown situation, and living with group of complete strangers in every sense of the word, with no idea how your interactions would work out. When the questionnaire arrived, though, I filled it out without hesitation, and when the letter came back shortly afterwards indicating my acceptance into the program, both my anticipation and anxiety immediately spiked up as my parents and I set about hurriedly packing up most of my worldly possessions and cramming them into the back of the family minivan. Nervous or not, though, I'd made my choice, and all I could do was hope that when I arrived, things would get off on the right foot.