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I grab the map out of my back pocket that I had printed before I left. I had studied it on the way here, but I didn’t expect to be making a pitstop. So now I need to figure out how to get back to the dorms. Once I locate myself, I head east along the pathways. As I get closer, I look up at yet another castle-like building. My money is on the inside being renovated. I doubt the rich pricks would want to live in anything less than expensive ass surroundings.
As I make my way in, I walk past the desk at the front check in desk. I turn to the left and see a bank of elevators. When I turn to the right, I see a lavish sitting area that screams money. They even have a coffee bar along the wall.I’m sure the coffee is laced with gold.
I shake my head and see if I can find a set of stairs to take. The elevators are packed with other students trying to get in, and I really don’t want to socialize; I’ve done enough of that today already.
I round the corner and find the stairwell. Then I head up the flights of stairs until I get to the eighth floor. Thankfully my door’s at the end of the hall right off the stairwell, no need to walk through the hallway of students trying to get all their shit into their rooms. I punch in my door code and hear it unlock. Taking a deep breath, I push it open.
Holy shit.
three
PHOENIX
The minuteI push the door open, my jaw drops, and for a moment I think I may be dreaming. This is where I’m living? This place is a penthouse suite compared to my living situation in the past.
I slowly walk in, taking in the surroundings of my new home.
The floors are a dark hardwood, and there’s a flatscreen television hanging on the wall to my left and a plush sofa and loveseat in front of it. When I turn to the right, I notice a kitchen area. Not just an area, but an actual kitchen with full-size appliances. Expensive-ass-looking countertops, stainless steel appliances, even the light fixtures look like they are out of a Home and Garden Magazine.
Do these rich assholes even know how to cook?
The entire summer at my aunt’s house, Aunt Julie had people cooking and cleaning for her. I mean I guess if you have the money, that’s one way to waste it.
As I survey the rest of the new surroundings, a door opens to my left and out comes a blondewith a huge smile on her face as she takes me in. I’m guessing she’s now my roommate for the foreseeable future.
“Hi! I’m Elizabeth Denton, but you can me Liz or Lizzy. I really hate the name Elizabeth. Sounds so pretentious.” She wrinkles her nose. “You must be Phoenix? I love that name! So different!” She bounces on her feet with excitement, again a smile stretching wide across her face. Is everyone at this school on happy drugs?
“Um, yeah. Well, I didn’t pick it.” I press my lips in a thin line as I take her in. Her eyes are as blue as the ocean, and she’s about the same height as me, but her breasts are way more pronounced. There’s no way those are real.
And here I am judging tits. Awesome.
“Okay, well, your room is going to be that one there, next to the kitchen. My room’s here off the common area. The bathroom is through that door, and that’s pretty much the tour of the dorm,” she says with a laugh. “Go get moved in. I’ll leave you be while you get settled!”
“Thanks,” I mumble as I head back towards my room. I just need some space away from all these happy people.
I push open my bedroom door and gawk at the space before me. It’s huge, with more space than I really even need. There’s a queen-size bed that awaits me, with a desk and two bookshelves beside it. The windows look out towards the campus, and I can see students walking around. As I turn to my right, I see a door that leads into my walk-in closet. Yup, this dorm has a goddamn walk-in closet.
Not like I’ll ever fill up the thing with clothes or anything. But whatever.
That’s where I find my couple of bags that I brought with me. Just sitting there inside the massive closet, looking all sad. I’m sure Smiley Liz has a closet packed to the brim with clothes.
Which brings me to my next thought: Do they do their own laundry or send it out to be cleaned? Well, if they send it out to be cleaned, at least I won’t have to fight over open washers and dryers.
You know what? This is all too tiring to even think about. I’ll try to figure that out later.
I saunter over to my bed and grab my backpack from off the floor. I pull out the box that my mom left for me and place it on my lap. The worn box, wrapped heavily in tape to keep everyone out. One day, I will have enough strength to see what was so important to leave me. Why she left me only this box.
Today is not that day.
I pull out her photo from my bag and stare at it. Her hair was red like mine. A vibrant red, like a flame. Her eyes were an amber that matched my own, golden when the sun hits just right. Her face was covered in freckles, with the majority of them on her cheeks.
She was beautiful, lively. Full of love and always ready to experience new things. Until the death of my father.
Then she became a shell of the person she was. She hid away, always looking over her shoulder. She lived in isolation except to work. It’s like she was always waiting on my dad to appear out of nowhere. She would always mumble his name.
I asked her about it once, but she told me it was nothing, and it was just because she wasn’t used to not having my dad around. I never asked again.
Maybe I should’ve pressed the issue.