After what felt like an eternity of my mom and Uncle Chris lecturing me about parties, boys, and "making the right choices," they finally decided to leave. A quick hug, a peck on the cheek, and they were gone, waving to Jenna as they headed to the car.
"Oh my God, I can't believe this is actually happening! I'm going to miss you so much!" Jenna cried, enveloping me in a dramatic hug. I fought to hold back my own tears, knowing I'd miss her chatter and the way her hugs always made everything feel okay.
"I'll miss you too," I promised, squeezing her tightly. "We'll talk every day. I just wish you were coming this year…" Even though she was only a few days older than me, Jenna always acted like she had two more years of wisdom tucked away.
We said our final goodbyes, and Mom honked impatiently outside. I waved and turned back to the room, already feeling the quiet settle around me.
I unpacked slowly, folding my clothes neatly into the tiny dresser and hanging the rest in the closet. Glancing at Cassie's side, I cringed at the explosion of leather, posters, and prints. This room was going to be… interesting.
Exhausted, I flopped onto my bed. The loneliness seeped in immediately, sharp and heavy. Even though Cassie's friends made me uncomfortable, I felt the sting of missing someone familiar. And now, with the possibility of her constantly having company, I might be sharing this cramped space with strangers all the time. A roommate who stayed in and studied? That would've been ideal.
I tried to focus on the practical. Pulling out my planner and textbooks, I wrote down my class schedule and penciled in tentative meetings for the literary club I wanted to check out. I noted a weekend trip off-campus for room decor—not that I planned to cover my walls with posters like Cassie, but a few personal touches wouldn't hurt. Public transportation would have to do for now; I didn't want the stress of owning a car just yet.
Eventually, exhaustion overtook me, and I drifted to sleep with my planner clutched in my hands, thoughts swirling between schedules, bright-haired roommates, and tattooed blondes.
The next morning, Cassie's bed was empty. Maybe she was out all night. Maybe one of the boys from yesterday was her boyfriend—hopefully the blonde one, I thought wryly. I grabbed my toiletries and headed toward the shower.
Dorm showers were one of my least favorite things. Why couldn't everyone have a private bathroom? My hope for a co-ed room was dashed when I saw the sign: two stick figures, one male, one female. Great. Awkwardness guaranteed.
The water took forever to warm, and I felt tense the entire time, paranoid that someone might pull back the flimsy curtain separating my body from the shared room. The stall itself was tiny, with barely enough space to swing my arms, and the racks meant to hold clothes did little to prevent disaster.
Of course, disaster struck. As I turned, my elbow caught the racks, sending my pile of clean clothes tumbling to the wet floor. The shower continued to pour, soaking them completely.
"You've got to be kidding me!" I groaned, cutting off the water and wrapping the towel tightly around myself. I grabbed the drenched heap of clothes and dashed down the hall, desperate for privacy.
Finally back in the room, I shoved the keys into the door and exhaled, relief flooding me—until I turned around.
There he was. The brown-haired boy, sprawled across Cassie's bed, arms tattooed, lip piercing glinting, staring at nothing. My stomach twisted. Great.