The house was run down. Old. A horrible idea from the start and Celia knew it from the moment she saw it. She wasn't stupid, thank you very much. She understood why the rent was cheap and knew that she could probably afford something much better, but there was something about the idea of a fixer-upper that drew her in anyway. Considering how much she loved to tidy every little thing in her life, it was no surprise that she'd love to participate in a place's rebirth.
Perhaps her life was dull in comparison, too. She could've gotten a crappy apartment somewhere off campus or a dormitory on campus, but what then? The same old routine. Going to class, church stuff, and whatever extracurriculars she involved herself in, only to come back to an empty room. Her existence was lonely some days, as while she wasn't exactly a showy person, she was still a bit of an extrovert. She gained her energy from others, not from being alone. So the idea of roommates-- all living in a bed and breakfast setting, with one kitchen and living area-- sounded appealing to her. She was being idealistic in imagining she'd make friends there, certainly, but it was a hope that remained at the back of her mind nonetheless.
Celia easily impressed Raj, her interviewer. His questions were odd, and apparently a requirement after moving in was to watch the Star Wars films. Just the original trilogy or something like that, but she agreed to it easily, though it took her another week to start moving her things inside. She was one of the last to move in, she discovered, and two of them-- Nick and Wes-- helped her move in on her first day. How nice! Already she had a special "thank you" in mind, though as she made herself at home in the kitchen that morning, she realized quickly that this could go awry if she didn't attempt to befriend everyone under the roof with her cooking.
And so began... dinner. Originally she thought a plate of cookies for each might suffice, but as she strolled through the grocery store, she knew it would be a more social setting if she cooked legitimate dinner. And she did enjoy spending time with others. So she stocked up on enough to cook dinner, drove to her new home, and set to work on it.
It wasn't a complicated meal. In fact it was the standard you'd find on any table: salad, lasagna, garlic bread. But Celia was a damn good cook, thank you very much, so she knew how to turn it up a few notches when necessary. And she might have already been working on a dessert. Regardless, the more she worked on the meal, the more it worked up a delicious smell that was now seeping into the house. Hopefully the scent alone would be enough to draw them out. If not, she'd just wrap up servings and knock on their doors or something. That seemed kind enough.
She hummed as she cooked, some 70s song her family often listened to at home. Clearly she was already making herself very at home here, as she was quite pleased with the full kitchen she had to work with. (Even if it took a few times to get the oven to light and, y'know, she was afraid the overhead light might shock her if she touched it.)