Continuation of previous novel-doodle, only at a different point.

And then, the totally unexpected happened.
As I told you before, I had been rapidly searching for a roommate. These apartments don't pay for themselves, you know, and having a two-bedroom apartment all to oneself isn't exactly cost-effective. Well, after coming back from the job interview I was totally wiped and ready to take a seat down in front of the television with a large bag of salt and vinegar Lays and a can of 7Up, but these plans were thwarted.
I unlocked the apartment door to the sound of a blaring television screen. Funny, I thought, I was sure I turned on the TV before I left this morning. Indeed, I was sure I had. I heard the sounds of laughter and clapping; it was noon, and obviously the Price is Right was the show that was on. Being a fan of children's shows, I'd had the channel set to YTV before going to the interview, so the sounds of a gameshow were foreign and surprising to the ear.
I entered the apartment fully with a quizzical expression on my face. The expression became even moreso when I saw a person sitting on my couch, watching my television and eating my salt and vinegar Lays. At first, I was too shocked to even speak. After all, why the hell should I have to say anything?! This was my apartment, right?
. . . Right?
"Excuse me," I finally managed to say, dropping my purse on my foot as I did. I winced before I continued to speak, noticing that the person in my couch didn't once turn around or say anything in reply. "Excuse me," I said, a bit more forcefully.
"Hi, Francesca," came a husky feminine voice from the couch. I nearly swallowed my tongue.
"Uh," I sputtered, "I think you have the wrong apartment. My name isn't Francesca." The girl in the couch, for I could see more clearly now that she was a girl, dangled a key from her finger. Distinctly on the keychain was the number of the room; 2T.
"Where did you get that?" I cried in surprise. "Who let you in here?" The girl in the couch shrugged and let her hand drop lazily to the couch.
"The landlady," she replied. I stormed over to the couch to get a good look at this girl, keeping the door open and kicking the purse off my foot as I did so.
How odd . . . I remember thinking as I stared at the girl sitting there.

This girl was beyond abnormal. She had two-tone eyes; one of them was a bright blue and the other was a dull grey-brown. Her hair was shoulder-length and similarly two-toned. Instead of brown with blue streaks, as you might have thought, she had quite the opposite; her hair was a bright blue matching her left eye, and it had streaks of the same shade of brown as her eyes. She was short and thin and looked to be about sixteen years old. She has to be older than that, I thought. Why else would she be coming here alone?
"Who the hell are you?" I asked, so suddenly that I surprised even myself. Without taking her eyes from the television, all she said was "Your roommate."