“Great. Can you be ready to go by ten?”
I eye the clock. “It’s already nine.”
“I know, but I figured that would give us two hours to get a lay of the land and then get lunch. It’s on me.”
I know she’s giving me a peace offering for agreeing. After all, food is the key to my heart.
Grabbing my favorite chipped Disney mug with Grumpy on it—because mood—I pour my coffee and add a tiny bit of cream and sugar.
“I’m going to get ready,” I tell her, already heading off to my room.
“Thank you,” she calls after me.
“Mhmm.” I wave my hand, so she knows I’m not totally pissed, I’ve just reached my morning quota of words and need to reboot.
Taking a few sips of coffee, I appraise my closet hoping something will jump out and say wear me.
Unsurprisingly, nothing does.
Setting the mug on my dresser I opt for a pair of jeans and an oversized t-shirt that I tie in a knot at my waist. I top it off with my favorite, worn in, pair of black boots. My hair is a mess since I slept with it in a bun. Brushing it out, I try to smooth the wavy locks. It still looks like a bird has taken up residence in the dark brown, nearly black, depths. With a groan, I pull it back into a low bun, letting a few stray pieces of hair fall forward to frame my face.
I add a light layer of foundation to even out my skin tone—stupid breakouts—some bronzer, blush, and a tiny hint of shimmery shadow to my lids. Once mascara is coated on my lashes and gloss is on my lips, I deem myself good to go. Molly, who loves makeup and is a wizard with a brush, will put my simple makeup look to shame. But that’s okay, simple and easy is more my speed.
I know despite this being her idea she won’t be ready until the last minute. Grabbing my coffee, I plop onto the couch to sip the rest of it.
At two minutes until ten she strides into the main living area in a pair of black jeans and a striped tee. Like I suspected her makeup is immaculate. “I’m ready,” she announces, opening her purse and double checking that she has everything she needs. “You have your schedule?”
Picking up the welcome envelope from the coffee table I hold it aloft. “Got it.”
“Good.” She smooths a flyaway hair. “Will you drive?”
“Mhmm.” I rinse out my mug and swipe my keys from the countertop. “Let’s go.”
Molly uses the short drive to campus to pour over her schedule even more, despite the fact I’m sure she has the entire thing memorized by now. That’s just who she is as a person. She likes to walk into every situation with a full understanding and anything she might need.
The campus is pretty empty since students staying on campus aren’t allowed to start moving in until the beginning of next week. I park the car and Molly folds up her papers, reaching for her bag between her feet.
Slipping from my blue Volkswagen Beetle—she’s old, but she runs great—I follow Molly to the quad in front of the main building.
The campus is all sleek and modern. Clean lines. Shiny surfaces.
Cold, if I’m being honest.
But it makes sense for the new university.
“Let me see your schedule again.” I pass it over to her, letting her compare our classes. “I still can’t believe we only have two classes together. I was hoping for more.” She frowns, a wrinkle forming between her brows. “Whatever. We can’t do anything about it.” She hands it back to me and I study my courses.
It’s all your typical first year core classes plus my two chosen electives of creative writing and history of film. History of film should be interesting at least. It’s a two-semester course, which is rare, but everything I read sounded like the kind of class I’d enjoy.
I haven’t given much thought to what I want to do with my life, which seems entirely impractical considering I’m starting college. Surely, I should have some idea of where I see myself in the future? But it’s blank. I picked my electives with the hope something might click, and I’d figure out a direction.
Molly on the other hand has known since middle school that she wants to work in the government and has been doing everything she can since to keep her on that trajectory.
“Meet you back here at noon?” I ask her.
“Oh, you don’t want to stick together?”
“No, I’ll check out things on my own. Explore the campus. Maybe stop at the library for a bit.”
“All right.” I know she’s bummed I want to head off on my own, but I figure if we’re already here I might as well get the lay of the land.
She heads off to her left, mumbling a building name under her breath.
Walking up the sleek concrete steps into the main building, I yank the door open, struggling under the monstrous weight of it. Who decided it was a good idea for a door to weigh fifty pounds?
Inside, the building is all whites and grays, the walls made of slabs of concrete. My flip-flops thwack annoyingly against the shiny floor. I’m grateful it seems no one is around to hear the awful sound.
Outside a door I notice some pamphlets with information on some of the different buildings, who they’re named after and what they’re for, along with some maps that appear more detailed than the one included with our acceptance packet. I grab a few of each knowing Molly will love looking over them. I don’t know whether that’s the academic in her or the OCD.
Leaving that building behind me, I use the map to head to the campus gym next.
I have a love hate relationship with working out. On the one hand it makes me feel better, more energized, on the other some days I just don’t want to. Okay, most days, but I make myself get up and do something anyway.
Inside, the building has a sterile smell that’s at odds with a gym, but I guess it’s expected since it hasn’t been used yet.
I spot someone in a uniform walking out of an office and wave. “Hi, I have a question.”
The girl rolls her eyes but comes my way. “Yeah, what do you need?”
I try not to let her attitude bother me. “I was wondering if the building is free for students?” It should be, but you never know.
She snaps her gum. “It is. What about it?” She pops a hand on her hip.
Stifling the urge to roll my eyes, I paste on a smile. “Great. Am I able to start using it before classes start?”
“Sure,” she drawls out the word. “All you have to do is scan your student ID when you come in.” She points to the welcome desk with the scanner front and center.
“I don’t have my student ID yet.”
She blows an obnoxious bubble. “I can’t help you with that.”
She doesn’t wait for me to reply before she turns on her heel and walks away, blonde ponytail swaying in her wake.
“Whatever,” I mutter to myself.
People like her give me a headache. It’s not that hard to be nice to someone.
Heading to the library next I find it much more to my liking. I guess for this building they decided to give it an older architecture style. The inside is rich warm woods and cozier than everything I’ve seen so far. Spinning in a circle I can’t stop the grin that overtakes me.
I’m here. I made it.
The next four years will determine the rest of my life. That’s both exhilarating and absolutely terrifying.