Page 222
Story: Small Town Firsts
“Hey, I’m, uh, checking in.”
She perks up at the sound of my voice, her previously thinned lips are now upturned in a beaming smile. “Of course. Name and ID?”
I fish my driver’s license from my wallet and pass it to her.
“Emmalyn. That’s a pretty name.”
“Just Emmy.”
“All right, Emmy. I’m Abigail, a senior, and one of the RAs of this dorm. Not yours, though. I’m on the second floor, and you’re on the third with Melanie.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” My voice shakes, and I ball my hands into fists, digging my nails into the flesh of my palms.
She smiles a genuine smile, most likely chalking my behavior up to nerves. “Here are the keys to your room and mailbox. As I mentioned, you’re on the third floor, suite three-hundred three. You’ll take a right out of the elevator, second door.” Abigail passes me a set of keys along with a folder. “There’s a map in there, along with an itinerary of Welcome Week events.”
“Thanks,” I whisper, hating how meek I sound.
While I was never the life of the party, I used to at least be able to carry a basic conversation without sounding like a frightened child.
“It’s what I’m here for.” She tilts her head to the side, studying me. “Do you have your student ID card yet?”
“No.”
“You’re gonna want to get that ASAP. You can get it over at the tech center—it’s on the map. Your ID card is basically your life. It will get you in and out of this building, along with many others. I would highly suggest getting it today. You’ll have to be buzzed in without it, okay?”
I nod. “Yeah, yes. I’ll go right now. Thanks.”
I start to turn away, but Abigail calls after me. “Don’t you wanna put your stuff up first?”
My cheeks heat. “Oh, yeah. Sure.”
Her lips tip up in a grin. “C’mon, I’ll let you in.”
Falling in line behind her, I wait patiently as she swipes her badge in front of the sensor. The light flashes green, and Abigail pushes the door open before stepping to the side and allowing me to enter.
“Elevator is on the left, stairs are to the back right. Mel will be around, and I’m sure she will come by and introduce herself.”
“Thanks,” I say again, undoubtedly sounding like a parrot.
“No problem, Emmy. Welcome to the Wildcat fam!”
As I enter the building, I almost wish I could bottle her pep and use it to help get me through the dark days. Sure, they’refewer than there were, but memories of what happened still loom over me like my own personal dark cloud.
Today, though, the sun is peeking through those clouds, and I plan on taking full advantage of the sunlight. So to speak.
The inside of the dorm building is every bit as luxurious in the lobby as the outside suggests. From the slate flooring and comfy couches in the lounge area, to the exposed wooden beams overhead, this place looks more like a coveted vacation spot than a college dorm.
I follow Abigail’s directions to the elevator, though I could have found it regardless; it is a straight shot down the wide hallway.
Worry over meeting my roommate sets in as the car climbs to the third floor. What if she’s like the girls back home?
Mean, petty, and black-hearted.
Even worse… what if she’s nice? What if she sees through my mask, straight down to my broken core? What if she pulls at the thread holding all of my secrets inside me? What if she wants to try to fix me up, like I’m some old dilapidated house?
My soul is far too tarnished for a little TLC to make it shine.
It’s black. Rotten, through no fault of my own. Not because I’m bad, but because of bad done to me. The kind of bad that leaves a mark so dark, sometimes I wonder if I don’t wear it like a beacon.
She perks up at the sound of my voice, her previously thinned lips are now upturned in a beaming smile. “Of course. Name and ID?”
I fish my driver’s license from my wallet and pass it to her.
“Emmalyn. That’s a pretty name.”
“Just Emmy.”
“All right, Emmy. I’m Abigail, a senior, and one of the RAs of this dorm. Not yours, though. I’m on the second floor, and you’re on the third with Melanie.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” My voice shakes, and I ball my hands into fists, digging my nails into the flesh of my palms.
She smiles a genuine smile, most likely chalking my behavior up to nerves. “Here are the keys to your room and mailbox. As I mentioned, you’re on the third floor, suite three-hundred three. You’ll take a right out of the elevator, second door.” Abigail passes me a set of keys along with a folder. “There’s a map in there, along with an itinerary of Welcome Week events.”
“Thanks,” I whisper, hating how meek I sound.
While I was never the life of the party, I used to at least be able to carry a basic conversation without sounding like a frightened child.
“It’s what I’m here for.” She tilts her head to the side, studying me. “Do you have your student ID card yet?”
“No.”
“You’re gonna want to get that ASAP. You can get it over at the tech center—it’s on the map. Your ID card is basically your life. It will get you in and out of this building, along with many others. I would highly suggest getting it today. You’ll have to be buzzed in without it, okay?”
I nod. “Yeah, yes. I’ll go right now. Thanks.”
I start to turn away, but Abigail calls after me. “Don’t you wanna put your stuff up first?”
My cheeks heat. “Oh, yeah. Sure.”
Her lips tip up in a grin. “C’mon, I’ll let you in.”
Falling in line behind her, I wait patiently as she swipes her badge in front of the sensor. The light flashes green, and Abigail pushes the door open before stepping to the side and allowing me to enter.
“Elevator is on the left, stairs are to the back right. Mel will be around, and I’m sure she will come by and introduce herself.”
“Thanks,” I say again, undoubtedly sounding like a parrot.
“No problem, Emmy. Welcome to the Wildcat fam!”
As I enter the building, I almost wish I could bottle her pep and use it to help get me through the dark days. Sure, they’refewer than there were, but memories of what happened still loom over me like my own personal dark cloud.
Today, though, the sun is peeking through those clouds, and I plan on taking full advantage of the sunlight. So to speak.
The inside of the dorm building is every bit as luxurious in the lobby as the outside suggests. From the slate flooring and comfy couches in the lounge area, to the exposed wooden beams overhead, this place looks more like a coveted vacation spot than a college dorm.
I follow Abigail’s directions to the elevator, though I could have found it regardless; it is a straight shot down the wide hallway.
Worry over meeting my roommate sets in as the car climbs to the third floor. What if she’s like the girls back home?
Mean, petty, and black-hearted.
Even worse… what if she’s nice? What if she sees through my mask, straight down to my broken core? What if she pulls at the thread holding all of my secrets inside me? What if she wants to try to fix me up, like I’m some old dilapidated house?
My soul is far too tarnished for a little TLC to make it shine.
It’s black. Rotten, through no fault of my own. Not because I’m bad, but because of bad done to me. The kind of bad that leaves a mark so dark, sometimes I wonder if I don’t wear it like a beacon.
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