“You’re going to be fine.”
“I know?” I’m pretty sure.
“Carole?” Dad says.
“All right,” Mom says. She gets in the car. I wave again in case they’re looking in the rearview mirror.
And then they’re gone.
I’m an adult out in the world on my own.
I’m surprised that I feel as if something has shifted within me or perhaps in the air around me. I don’t have to go back to my room. I could go somewhere on campus, or I could get into my car and drive away forever. Whatever I decide, there’s no one to stop me. It’s my choice what happens next.
I choose to go back to my room. I want to be alone.
It doesn’t occur to me until I see the partially open door that I know I left locked that perhaps someone from the waiting list was assigned to Finn’s open bed.
I remember reading the housing application with Finn, where it said it would honor as many mutual roommate requests as possible but that it was best to fill out their personality quiz just in case. I didn’t, but if I had, I doubt it would have been taken into consideration in a last-minute reassignment from the waiting list.
There’s already a new name on the door. I hope Brett likes the Chiefs.
As I push open the door, the three people in my room look up at me, startled.
“Hi,” I say to them.
The guy sitting on Finn’s bed looks surprised even as his mother steps forward to shake my hand. As I take it in mine, I see that she has tears in her eyes. I’ve interrupted something. His father has gone back to staring at his hands clasped in front of him.
“We’re the Carters,” she says. “And this is Brett!”
“Hi,” I say. “Nice to meet you. I was going to grab my stuff and take a shower.” It’s early evening, but it’s still hot as blazes out, and everyone was traveling and moving today, so my excuse to be antisocial is accepted.
“Well, if we don’t see you again, have a good semester!” Mrs. Carter says. The tears in her eyes glitter. “Let us know if you ever need anything!”
“Thanks.” I grab the basket of shower stuff that my mom forced me to pack up before we left for dinner. She told me that I would be glad later, though I don’t think she could have foreseen this exact situation. Either way, I mentally thank her as I bolt out of there.
And here I thought my parents were getting emotional about me leaving home.
Suddenly, I’m grateful for my undemonstrative family. Which makes me miss them, especially my mom. Mentally, I thank her again, this time for not crying.
He’s not dying, part of me had wanted to tell the Carters. Which would have been a dick move, so I’m glad I didn’t, but it’s how I feel. Angelina would give anything to be in that woman’s position, yet she has the audacity to cry? It seems like such bullshit.
At least I’m thinking clearly enough to know that there’s something off about my reaction, so I take that long shower as promised. I hear others coming and going, but a line never forms, so I don’t give up my stall.
I hear two guys laughing together. Clearly, they’ve been friends for years.
I turn up the shower. The water pressure isn’t great, but it blocks out the sound.
I give it enough time that Brett’s parents would have to be seriously unreasonable to still be hanging around. My fingers and toes are wrinkled raisins by the time I get out.
It’s not quiet on the floor of our hall, but it’s the difference between going to a concert and going on a hike: the woods are full of noise and activity, but compared to a concert, it’s silent. There’s some laughter and conversation, some television noise. About half the doors are closed.
It’s only nine o’clock, but I hope this Brett guy is asleep. When I get to the room, I decide he may as well be asleep, because he’s reading the new student manual.
The stapled booklet was sitting on our bare mattresses when I arrived and is filled with campus phone numbers I could get online, rules about alcohol, and a couple of maps or something. Mine is sitting in the recycling bin, where any sane person would put such paper-wasting nonsense.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey.” Brett doesn’t look up.
Perfect.
I get into bed with my CD player and pull the top sheet over my head. I listen to Finn’s best of Tom Petty album with headphones until the light filtering in through the sheet goes out.
I keep listening until I fall asleep.
thirteen
So what’s college like?
It’s hard to say.