***
I give my hair one last brush, then check myself in the mirror. I’ve never been one for much makeup and my uniform is usually jeans and a tee, leggings and a hoodie, or some variation of that theme. And my long brown hair is almost always up in a bun, but not today.
Today feels different.
It’s Monday and my first official day as a full-time college student. I’m standing in front of my mirror, wearing a jean skirt I borrowed from Melanie and a light pink sleeveless top. My shoes are my own, because white canvas sneakers go with everything, and Mel has giant feet. I even brushed on a little blush and mascara today, which is not part of my typical routine.
Let my freshman year of college commence. Granted, I should be a junior, timewise, but I guess we all get where we’re going at our own pace, so long as we’re lucky enough to get there at all. When my friends all left for college two years ago, I chose to stay home. My brother’s death was still a fresh wound, and my mom certainly needed the help. Her agoraphobia hadn’t been properly diagnosed yet, and I stuck around to make sure the house got cleaned, the bills got paid, and all that. And things got better--not good, exactly, but better. These days, my mom works from home, takes her meds, and gets out of bed most days. But still, it was hard to leave--hard to break that pattern. And scary, too.
In a way, I’m starting something new, though, I’m sure, to some, it looks like I’m picking up where I left off. I guess the reality is somewhere in the middle. I’m not the girl I was a few years ago, not by a longshot. But I can’t say my history doesn’t affect me--it’s changed who I am in almost every way.
Grabbing my phone, I take a “first day of school” shot and send it off to my mom and Sam. For just a moment, I think of the first day shots my mom still has lining the staircase in our house. Will she add this one to the lineup? Unlike the others that hang side by side with my brother’s, this one will hang alone.
There’s a knock on my bedroom door. “Come on, you gorgeous bitch. I know you’re hot, but we have no more time for self-admiration. We need to get our fine asses to class.” Melanie’s voice booms through our admittedly tiny suite.
“Coming,” I call back. I slip the gold chain around my neck, running my finger over the smooth surface, then grab my bag and water bottle.
Here goes nothin…
***
I walk into Drip after the last of my classes has ended for the day. The cool AC feels good, and I’m glad to see friendly faces rather than just an endless sea of people I don’t know.
“So, how was your first day?” Ian asks, placing an iced caramel macchiato in front of me.
“Thanks,” I say, accepting the drink and taking a sip. “My classes were good, so far. The art program here is pretty great, so I’m excited about my painting class and my clay class. And my bio lecture was pretty standard. It was all typical first-day stuff, but everyone was really nice.”
“Good. Anyone gives you trouble, you just send them to me.” Ian nods. Bless his heart, I think he’s serious. He’s tall, but he’s lean. Built like a runner, but I’d bet my bank account, such as it is, that the only running Ian does is on a treadmill. He’s got fair skin, freckles, and strawberry blond hair. His glasses are those thick black trendy ones I could never pull off, but he’s got that whole hot professor look down.
He turns his attention to Mel. “How about you, Mel? Did you kick some accounting ass today?”
“Damn straight, I did,” she says, stepping behind the counter and slipping on her apron. “How about you? How’s the TA life so far?”
“Exhausting,” he smiles. “Especially when you add this place in. But I love it. I’m only doing two classes for Hanna--Dr. Bergman--this semester, so things will level off, I’m sure. I just feel totally overwhelmed, but in a good way, you know?”
I totally get it. “I know exactly what you mean. The last week of my life has been a little daunting--a lot of change and new experiences, but it’s all good stuff.”
“Excellent.” he nods. “And you know where you’re headed tomorrow?”
I smile over my eye roll. “Yes, I know where all of my classes are. And I scoped out a study bay in the library today. Look at me, exploring uncharted waters.”
Mel clears her throat. “Don’t worry about her, Ian. She got a personal tour of campus from Ty Marshall.”
Ian nearly drops the pitcher of tea he’s holding. “Say what now?”
“It was no big deal--my tour guide was double-booked or something, so Ty took over.” I shrug as if it’s truly not a big deal, because it isn’t. Ok, he was sex on a damn stick, but he was just doing his job. Well, his friend’s job.
“Honey.” Ian levels me with an older-brother look, and my heart pinches. “You need to be careful with that one.”
“It won’t be an issue, I promise. It was just a tour. He had to do it. And I’m 100% positive he was not impressed by me.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Ian shakes his head, “let’s get a few things straight. Those broody boys on the hill? The fearsome foursome who live in The Chapel? They don’thave to doanything. And they certainly don’t have to work. Each one of them is richer than sin, even without their trust funds. So trust me, he was not doing his job. He was doing someone else’s. And I want to know why.”
“I told you--it was a favor. He wouldn’t say what the favor was for though.”
“See? Suspicious.”
Mel’s refilling the napkin dispenser. “Calm down, Ian. My guess is he jumped at the opportunity to cover Gabe’s shift because our girl here is gorgeous. Plus, she’s new in town and knows nothing of his reputation.”
