Class of COVID: A Series of Vingettes

This vingette first appeared in the May 2, 2024 print edition of the Montana Kaimin, part of a series of vingettes from senior staff editors 

And they were roommates

On a crisp fall night in October 2020, I stood in front of the mirror in my dorm room, shucking my jean jacket on and off and holding different masks in front of my face. I was waiting for my roommate, Allison Peschek, to join me for swing dancing.

I was terrified. It was the first time I was leaving campus, and I was worried I’d be walking into a super-spreader event. But Allison was going, and she’d just bring it home to me anyway. So I decided — a bit bitterly — why not?

Freshman year was weird for lots of reasons. Dorm life in 2020 came with a brave new world of cohabitation etiquette.

I briefly thought about trying to get a single room, but decided against it. I wanted the “freshman year” experience, and that included having a roommate.

Only, for me, that’s about as far as the experience got. That night was the only time I remember hanging out with more than four people at a time the entire year.

I know I could have found more social activities. Allison was in Christine’s underground board game ring, and she invited me along every time she went out on an adventure.

But I was so afraid of testing positive, afraid of bringing it back to the dorms, afraid of the walk of shame to the quarantine rooms in Aber Hall, afraid of sending emails to all of my professors who had been close contacts. So I became a hermit.

Allison was almost never home, but I never left. As the semester continued, my anxiety worsened, and it was easy to use COVID as an excuse. I wondered if it was my place to worry if she’d get COVID from one of her friends and give it to me. But who was I to stop her from living a typical college freshman experience?

Though many COVID regulations were still in place the next year, the fear of leaving the house had left me by then. When we left the dorms my sophomore year, Allison and I decided we’d go our separate ways for housing, but we stayed friends.

Then, last December, I got a text: “The funniest thing just happened… Fate made us roomies again!” Now, we have a sign hanging above our couch that reads, “LCV is the new Knowles.” And the funniest part? Our roommate roles have totally flipped.

Now, I’m always out doing something, grabbing drinks or checking out the latest events, making up for lost time. But I never have to wonder if Allison will be home when I walk through the door; I know she’ll be doing a puzzle, playing video games, watching anime or cooking.

When we came home from swing dancing in 2020, I remember walking back to the room alone, Allison off on another adventure. I was immediately filled with regret, sure I had gotten sick. I self-quarantined myself for a day or two, a silly decision in retrospect, and never did get sick. Neither did Allison.

I often wonder how my college experience would have been different if I wasn’t so afraid to leave my dorm freshman year. I bet a lot of us are agonizing over the same regrets now that we’re four years out.

At least Allison and I got a second chance at being roommates. Instead of being worried about an infectious disease, these days I think about if I remembered to put my dishes away and whether it was my turn to take out the trash. I like it much better this way.

(McKenna Johnson)