A lot of people say college is a chance to discover yourself and this is more than true for me.
Unpacking the office supplies, I set up my desk with my laptop in the middle.
Next, I string up lights around the window, similar to Li’s room because I liked the cozy touch it added. Stepping back, I take in the space. The room is still plain, and I forgot a rug, but it’s mine. My mom can’t touch me here. Maybe the memories won’t either.
The door to our suite opens, the girls’ voices carrying across the small space.
I poke my head out to find them entering with smoothies in hand.
“Oh, hey you’re back. This is for you.” Kenna strides across, offering me a cup. “We weren’t sure what you’d like. It’s strawberry and banana with some kind of other healthy shit in it too.”
“Thanks.” I take the cup from her, my throat closing up. It’s just a drink but I’m touched. No one does anything kind for me ever, except my older sister, but I haven’t seen her in person in years. Four years older than me, Hazel grew up even faster after we left Virginia, and with our mom spiraling out of control she dropped out of school at sixteen and left. I know she felt guilty leaving me, but I understood. I wouldn’t have stayed either.
We occasionally Facetime and the random card shows up from her with cash shoved into it. Hazel ended up getting her GED after she left, but it didn’t stop her from working at a strip club. I don’t judge her though, and no one else should either, she makes good money and can take care of herself. It’s more than a lot of people can say.
“Did you get everything you needed?” Li asks, dropping her purse on the coffee table and flipping her long straight black hair over her shoulder in the process.
“Pretty much.”
I got the necessities, including the toothpaste and hairbrush I forgot to pack.
As the three of us stand there in an awkward circle, I realize I’m not good at this. Small talk, trying to make friends, just being social in general. Hazel was all I had until she fled. After, I didn’t see the point.
“So,” I rock back on my heels, “do you all know what you want to do?” I realize how dumb I sound and wince. Clearing my throat I add, “I mean, degree wise.”
“Graphic design,” Kenna answers immediately, her face flooded with relief. I have a feeling she’s probably the most outgoing out of all of us, but even then it’s sometimes hard to think of what to say to people you’ve just met and are going to be living with. “I’d love to work with a big company after I graduate designing branding and packaging.”
“Wow, that’s really cool.” I’m not creative enough to even consider something like that.
“What about you?” She sits down on the chair, crossing her legs. She tips her chin in the air, waiting for me to respond.
I swallow, looking away, afraid my eyes might give too much away. “I want to be a child advocate attorney.”
“Wow, that’ll be a lot of schooling, huh?” Kenna shakes her head. “I don’t think I’d have the patience for that.”
“Yeah, I have to do four years of undergraduate study before I can apply for law school and then that’s another three.” I pull my hair over my shoulder. “But that’s why I was so happy I could go here. If I get accepted into the law program here I won’t have to transfer.”
Turning my gaze to Li, desperate to get the topic of conversation off myself, I ask, “What about you?”
“Oh, I want to go into biology. Not sure yet for what. I could always become a professor, but I’m leaning toward the research end.”
“Wow, we’re all over the place in what we want to do.” Kenna gives a soft laugh. “Well, if you guys don’t mind, I’m going to get a shower and start getting ready for tonight.”
“When are we leaving?”
“Nine,” she replies, already edging toward the bathroom.
I look at the time. “It’s only five—it takes you that long to get ready?”
Granted, I’m more of the throw my hair in a messy bun, gloss and mascara only, kind of girl but that seems like an unreasonably long amount of time to take to get ready.
“Perfection takes time.” She winks, sashaying into the bathroom with a dramatic flourish.
I glance at Li, giving my head a light shake. “I’m going to finish unpacking.”
Really, there’s nothing left to unpack, but I can reorganize and study the campus map so when classes start on Monday I’ll know where to go.
“Me too.” Li gives a shy smile, brushing past me to her room.
I’ve barely closed the door to mine when the shower starts up.
A moment later, Kenna’s karaoke show begins courtesy of Britney Spears’s Oops I Did It Again.
I close my eyes, exhaling a slow measured breath.
No matter what, I know I did the right thing by coming here.
“I cannot go out in this.”
I stare at my reflection in the floor length mirror. Kenna forced me into a short jean skirt, some kind of lacy bustier body suit, and an open flannel tied above my waist. Completing the look is a pair of cowboy boots.
“This is Tennessee. It’s like a religion to dress like this.”
I arch a brow. “You sure about that?”
“Uh…” She hesitates, blinking behind me in the mirror. “Definitely.”
During our chat while getting ready I learned that she moved here from California. She told me about her family, smiling as she spoke of them. Her dad is a tech genius that owns his own company and based on some of the designer things around her room it’s obvious she comes from big money. It’s not a total surprise. Aldridge is built to cater to the upper crust of society. I’m nothing but a charity case, but I’m fine with that as long as it gets me to my end game. A law degree with a steady career. I’m fine building my life from the ground up. Not all of us need a springboard in order to achieve great things. Besides, where’s the reward without a little bloodshed.
“You look hot,” she continues. “Gorgeous, honestly. I wish I had your boobs.”
I look down at my B-chest looking much fuller in the push-up bra I only own because Hazel got it for me.
“Thanks?” It comes out as a question, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
“What about the glasses, though?” She eyes my tortoise-shell frames. “Can you ditch those?”
I stare at her, lips parted in disbelief. “Only if I want to be practically blind?”
She waves a dismissive hand. “I only mean don’t you have like contacts or something?”
“No,” I bite out, “I happen to like my glasses.”
“Oh,” pink flushes her face, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to sound rude. I’m really bad about speaking before I think. My dad has tried so hard to break me of the habit. Clearly it hasn’t worked.”
“It’s fine,” I mutter, trying not to be aggravated. She’s not the first person to make a comment about my glasses and I doubt she’ll be the last. The suckiest time was when some girl at my high school told me I’d be a lot prettier without my glasses. Her comment pissed me off so much that even though I normally didn’t say a word, I came back with, “Yeah, and you’d be prettier without your judgmental attitude.”