one apartment," I said.
It was a lie, of course. We didn't have an apartment anymore. Mom lived in that cancer center now, and I was here. Did that make me homeless?
"Oh..." Penelope said. Her eyes widened fractionally, adding a little space between some of the freckles on her cheeks as she realized what I was saying.
"Well, that's nice. Hey, I've got to go. I'll see you in the dorm, I guess?" Penelope said, practically tripping over herself to get away from me.
What was it? Could they smell poor people or something? Were they afraid they'd catch the poor if they stayed close too long?
I leaned back against a tree trunk, careful not to rip my dress. It was the most expensive thing I'd let myself buy. It was light and summery, the same color as the sky with lovely, subtle flower patterns all over. I thought it was good looking. I mean, I had spent like two hours last night trying to pick out the right thing so as not to repeat my first day at orientation.
That one had started in a small lecture hall in that massive student center. I'd just had a pair of cheap Wal-Mart jeans and some frilly t-shirt on. It was like I'd coated myself in something foul smelling, from the way everyone kept away from me.
The orientation today was a picnic near the middle of the campus, in a small, tree-rimmed clearing. Most people stayed out of the center where the hot sun shone down, choosing instead the shade offered by the big maples and oaks.
I chewed on my bottom lip as I looked around at the little groups of students who'd already staked out their spots. It also seemed like they'd staked out their cliques already, too.
I wanted to blame it on shyness, on being out of the social scene for too long, for why I felt so nervous about just walking up to someone to talk. My hands got clammy, and a shiver always shot up my back. Was this how guys always felt right before they tried asking a girl out? If so, I really sympathized with them right at that point.
I sighed as a warm breeze picked at the hem of my dress, blowing all the hot, sweet smells of summer my way. I closed my eyes and tried to pick them out. There must have been rose bushes nearby. There was sap, too, probably from one of the pines around here.
It was a nice breeze. My long hair fluttered freely in it, the soft ends tickling at my bare shoulders.
My mind flashed back to last night. I'd been trying to settle into my new room. I had a single all to myself. I felt good and bad about this. Good, because I almost liked being alone in my misery, bad because I knew it was hurting my chances to make friends.
I'd heard girls laughing from down the hall, and I'd wanted so badly to go and join them. Why, then, had I wrapped myself in my comforter despite the heat and looked at my cell for hours, wondering if it was okay to call my mom?
I hadn't. In the end, sleep had snatched me away from the world. When I woke up, I'd had this incredible desire to just go home. I wanted to be back with my mom so badly. I'd even started packing one of my bags, and checking on my laptop for bus schedules. There had to be a Greyhound or something that passed through here.
Thinking about my mom kept me from it. I wouldn't be able to bear the disappointment in her eyes from showing up back in California. She'd pretend to be happy, and would try to console me. But we'd both know that I'd missed the opportunity of a lifetime.
My body ached deeply as I thought of my mother and home. But I couldn't go back. Not yet, at least. I had to at least try being here, even if the people didn't seem to like me very much, even though I didn't seem to fit in anywhere.
I didn't fit in anywhere at home, either. Staying home with my mom had swept me into some crack, left me stuck between what my life had been in high school and what it was supposed to turn into after.
It felt nice to be stuck, though. Well, not nice. Comforting, maybe. Certain. Here, everything seemed uncertain aside from the fact that I seemed
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley