“A little,” I admitted.
“What are you, a prude?”
The words felt like a slap and I actually skittered back from my roommate.
“No,” I said hotly. “But, I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t do those things. I have school to worry about so I can keep my scholarship.”
“So you’re a freak?”
There it was, the ‘freak’ word again. It seemed like I couldn’t get away from the damn word. But unlike when I was sixteen, this time the word didn’t bother me.
“Sure, why not,” I said.
I’m the freak and yet she has a My Little Pony collection?
I kept my mouth shut. There was no point of getting into that with my roommate. I didn’t have time for the drama that surrounded roommates not liking each other. I had a G.P.A. to keep up.
“Whatever.”
Sabrina frowned and then immediately forced her face flat.
“My mom told me that frowning caused wrinkles earlier. I can’t wrinkle my face.”
“Why not?”
She looked at me as if I was an idiot.
“Because I’m going to be an actress,” Sabrina said. “Duh.”
Of course she was going to be an actress.
That’s exactly why she was in college.
How could I not have known that already?
Refraining from rolling my eyes, I turned back to my clothes and continued to unpack. This was going to be a long, long year.
What the hell was I thinking?
I sat in my dorm room staring at the wall. Classes didn’t start for another week and I was stuck here, in the cramped room, with absolutely nothing to do. I had no friends, I didn’t know where anything was, nothing. Basically I was screwed.
My hands itched to pick up the phone and dial my house number. My parents would come and pick me up, that I was sure of, and they would let me stay with them until the classes started. That’s what they wanted me to do to begin with. But I couldn’t call them, I wouldn’t. If I called them they would lecture me about how they were right and I was wrong.
So there I sat, bored and alone, while my roommate flittered about. Since the moment she unpacked, nearly two days ago, I hadn’t seen her for more than a couple of hours. She only came back to the room when she needed to sleep or change her clothes. I didn’t mind, though. The less I saw of her the better.
We were complete opposites. The best part about her being gone is that I could put a towel over her precious My Little Pony dolls. Their eyes freaked me the hell out and they looked perverted, staring at me as I changed. They had to go and I had to find some way of doing it.
Getting off the bed, I moved to my desk and started to organize the books and pencils around it. I would need to make labels for the hanging file folders, pick up post-it notes and highlighters, and a recorder before I would be able to step into the classroom. Was I obsessive?
Maybe.
I liked things in order… I liked knowing where things were and knowing that they would be there when I looked for them. As I organized the desk, there was a knock on the door.
Who could that be? No one in the dorm knew me and I hadn’t introduced myself to anyone. The knocking persisted and I slid from the seat, shuffling to the door. Turning the handle, I pulled the door open.
“Can I help you?” I asked in my most bored tone.
There was a guy standing there, fliers in his hands, his hair flopping over to one side covering his ice blue eyes.
“You’re new, right?” the guy asked me.
Considering that I was in the freshman dorms, I thought that the question was stupid. Of course I was new.
“No I’m not new,” I answered. “I like staying in the freshman dorms.”
Instead of the guy turning away like I hoped he would, he laughed, throwing his head back.
“You’re funny,” he said.
He held out his hand.
“I’m Turner. Turner Schmidt. I’m a sophomore here at Kingston University.”
After a moment I shook his hand.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Lily. Lily Williams.”
“Welcome Lily Williams to Kingston University.”
He handed me a flyer and I scanned the contents.
“There’s a concert this weekend, kind of like a welcome back to school thing. I hope you can come.”
“I’ll see if I can make it,” I said even though I knew I wouldn’t go.
I didn’t need a concert welcoming me to school in an attempt to make me feel included.
“I won’t make any promises though. I’m pretty busy right now.”
We could both see through the lie but Turner smiled anyway.
“Well I hope that you can come. It’s going to be a lot of fun,” Turner said.
He shuffled the papers around and then looked at me.
“I have to go finish handing these things out. See you around?”
“Yeah, see you around,” I said.
I watched him trot down the hall before I closed the door and returned to my desk. I laid the flyer down and stared at it.
Don’t start your new school year off with a thud…start it off with ROCK!
The beginning of school only comes once a year so let’s make it a great one!
The Banger Boys are performing, one night only, to begin this school year right.
FREE BOOZE to anyone and everyone! Come get a drink and bust a move!
August 31 at 9 p.m. on the great lawn. Be there or forever be known as a loser!
Don’t be square…rock out!
The flier was kind of lame. Whatever printer it was printed off of was running out of ink and the colors were dull and faded. I could barely make out the words and the paper itself was crumpled.
“Like I would be caught dead at some rock concert. Yeah, right.”
Crumpling up the paper, I tossed it into the trash and then climbed up on my bed. If that made me a square then I was okay with that. I wasn’t going to conform into someone I wasn’t just to ‘fit in’. Fitting in wasn’t going to get me anywhere in life.
With a sigh, I grabbed a book from my make-shift bookcase, pulled a blanket on top of me and began to read. Or at least I tried to read.
My mind kept going back to the flier and the guy who gave it to me. He was cute, I would admit that much. His eyes were to die for and his smile was infectious. But it didn’t matter; good girls never get guys like that. Good girls got the good boys with the pocket protectors and the degrees in accounting, psychology, or some other kind of typical major. Even though that should be what girls want, it’s hard not to be somewhat interested in the sexy bear drinker.
Against my own better judgment, I climbed out of bed, grabbed the flier out of the trash, and worked on smoothing it out. Reading the flier for a second time didn’t change the lame writing or pathetic attempt at clip art. Still, I folded the paper in half, and then quarters, until it was small enough to fit into my palm. Then I slipped the paper into the pocket of my notebook, out of sight but definitely not out of mind.
Now that I was up, I took the time to log into my computer and get on Facebook. I wasn’t the only one of my friends to go away for college. My group of friends were scattered across the country, none of them wanting to stay in the small town that we grew up in.
After Facebook finished loaded, I was greeted with a page full of pictures. My friends were already off making new friends, experiencing new things. They had pictures with boys, on boats, and dancing at some club. My friends were living their lives, shedding their own goody-goody images. I, on the other hand, was clutching to my image with as much strength as I could.
But why?
Beginning to feel sad that I wasn’t having as many experiences as my friends were, I closed Facebook and stared at my wall. It was not even ten o’clock and I was going to get into bed to go to sleep. There were parties going on all around campus but I kept myself in the room. How pathetic was that?