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“Ouch, ouch, ouch!” I yelped, hurrying across the coffee shop with a tray of freshly baked scones. They were still way too hot, but I couldn’t wait any longer to get them into the display case. Now, my fingertips were paying the price—pink and stinging.
“You should’ve waited, Calla,” Natalie said from behind the counter, giving me a knowing look. She’s been at Steamy Bean Café about as long as I have—two years now—and I love it when we’re on shift together. Over time, she’s become one of my closest friends.
I muttered under my breath as I rushed to the sink, “Patience has never been my thing.” Cool water rushed over my hands, soothing the burn and bringing my fingers back to life.
glanced at the clock. My shift was almost over, and I needed to get moving. In just a few hours, I’d be starting my first day at Redwood Valley College. Nerves fluttered in my stomach, but excitement bubbled just beneath. I’ve always loved learning—soaking up every bit of knowledge like a sponge—and I couldn’t wait to dive in.
The doorbell rings, letting me know that a new customer has come in. I quickly dry my hands and walk over to the register to get their order.
I say goodbye to Natalie and Jett, the shop owner, after another half hour. He is always there, usually in the back of the store in his small office, doing paperwork. I get a to-go cup, fill it with coffee, and add some cream and sugar. I have to admit that I am addicted to caffeine. I get terrible headaches if I don’t drink coffee every day. And it tastes so good, so why should I stop drinking it?
The warm coffee really helps because it takes away the slight chill in the air in the fall. August is cool in Ohio, which is still something I’m not used to. I moved to Redwood, Ohio, almost six years ago with my mom from Alaska. The cold weather still seems strange to me. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it at this point. There are times when I miss Alaska. I lost some friends when I moved. We tried to stay in touch, but it’s hard to stay close friends when you live hundreds of miles away, and I eventually lost touch with all of them.
But the move had to happen. I’ll just deal with it and walk faster. As soon as I walk into the warm house, I sigh in relief and take off my fake Ugg boots and jacket. “Mom, Maisie, I’m home!” I scream. I can hear my little sister’s light footsteps and a high-pitched squeal. In three, two, one, she’s going to hit me.
“Calla!” my Maisie yells excitedly as she runs into my thighs. I asked her, “Hey, M! How has your day been so far?” as I picked her up and put her on my right hip. I kept walking through the house until I got to the kitchen, where I saw my mom. I smiled at her and hugged her with my left arm while saying, “Hey, Mom.” “Hey, Maisie, do you want to tell Calla what we did this morning?”
Maisie laughed at me and played with my messy blonde hair from work. “Ooh! Calla, we made dinner!” I raised an eyebrow at what she said. I asked, “Do you mean you made breakfast with Mommy?”
She shook her head very quickly from side to side. “Nope! Mommy and I made dinner in the C**k Pot!” she said. My mom and I laughed so hard at her answer. I was laughing so hard that I had to put Maisie down so I wouldn’t drop her. We still couldn’t catch our breath after a whole minute. I thought I was done laughing, but then I saw my mom and started laughing again.
After another minute, I finally stopped laughing and turned my attention back to Maisie, who was very confused about why we were laughing. I said, “Maisie, I think you mean you made dinner in the Crock Pot.” I laughed a little and glanced at my mom, who was watching us with amusement. Maisie said, “Yes, that’s what I said!” I smiled at her. She was so cute and full of attitude. I can’t wait to see how she is in ten years. “What did you two make?”
This time, my mom picked me up. “We made a pot roast with potatoes and carrots. I also have some garlic bread that you’ll just have to throw in the oven. I have to leave for work at 4:30 and won’t be back until late, but you won’t have to cook at all. It should be ready by 6.”
“Thanks, Mom. Where are you going today?”
“I’m going to Brazil and stopping in Colorado on the way back. Do you want any souvenirs?”
My mom works as a flight attendant, so she goes to a lot of places. She only works three to four days a week, so she is often there for Maisie. I help take care of Maisie when I can, but it’s going to be hard now that I’m going to school and working part-time at Steamy Bean Café. Mom doesn’t want me to work at all, but she won’t admit that she needs my help with the bills.
Things have been tough since Dad left and we only have one income. When my mom was eight months pregnant with Maisie, my jerk of a father left us high and dry and never came back. He owned his own business, but I don’t know what it was. When he left, it hurt our family both financially and emotionally. We don’t need him, though.
“I’ll take a snow globe from Colorado. I think I already have one from Brazil,” I said with a smile. My mom always brought back things from her “trips.” I have a lot of snow globes from different states and countries that she has flown to. I haven’t been to any of them yet, but maybe one day. There are little pieces of the world all over my bedroom right now. They are on my desk, bookshelf, dresser, and even on the shelves in my closet.
“I have to get ready for class. It’s my first day!” I jump up and down with excitement, and my mom just laughs at how eager I am. She says with a proud smile, “I’m so happy for you, honey.” I smile back and then look at Maisie. “Want to help me pick out my outfit for my first day?” All I heard was screaming, but the way she grabbed my hand and led me to my room made me think it was a happy scream.
I had a new outfit on, and my hair and makeup were done for the day an hour later. My hair was down in its natural waves, and my makeup was light but still easy to see. Maisie wanted me to wear a red polka-dot skirt and a purple tank top, but we agreed that I would wear a black skirt that flowed out and ended mid-thigh instead. It’s not too much, but it’s still cute.
Maisie and I walked down the hall holding hands. When we got back to the living room, my mom was sitting in the corner of the couch with a new book. “What book is that?” I asked her. She must have been scared because she jumped a little, and her reading glasses fell off her face and onto her lap. She told me she was reading “Where the Crawdads Sing” by Delia Owens after she complained that I always scared her.
“Finally! I’ve been telling you to read that book for months!” I said as I sat down with Maisie between me and my mom. We talked about her theories about books and kept Maisie busy until it was time for me to leave for my first class.
My mom gave me my backpack and said, “Bye, sweetie! Have a great first day! Go learn some stuff!” “Bye, sweetie!” Maisie said, copying my mom. I laughed to myself because she always said the cutest things. I hugged them both goodbye and then set off for Redwood Valley College, feeling both excited and scared about what was to come.
I was a bundle of nerves when I got to campus. I was both excited and nervous, but the nerves won when I got to campus. I took out my phone and looked up my schedule to find out what room I was in. I know I’ve checked 50 times already, but I had to check again because who knows, maybe the numbers changed in the 10 minutes since I left my house.
They didn’t. At 2:05 p.m., I still had Introduction to Psychology with Professor Meredith Shaw. Room 207 in the Psychology building. Wow, they tell you a lot. As I got closer to the Psychology building, I kept going over the information in my head so I wouldn’t forget it and have to pull my phone out of my pocket again. I need to get used to this building because I’ll probably be here a lot over the next four years. I want to be a social worker when I grow up so I can help kids who are neglected or abused by their families. That’s why I’m majoring in psychology. My dad, father of the year, has made me feel like I can understand kids in those situations and really help them.
After I go up a flight of stairs, I walk down the hallway. 203, 205, and 207! I look at my watch and see that I have 15 minutes to spare before class, so I go in anyway. The room is a lecture hall with enough seats for more than 100 students. Some students are already sitting down, so I sit down three seats down from a girl who looks friendly near the front of the room. I sit close enough to her that she could easily talk to me if she wanted to, but I’m far enough away that I won’t bother her if she wants to be alone.
I’m more of an introvert, but I’m really nice. I don’t usually talk to strangers, but if someone comes up to me and starts talking, I’ll be happy to talk to them. The girl is either an introvert like me or she’s just too into her phone to notice what’s going on around her. The professor writes her name and the course code on the board after fifteen minutes.
“Good afternoon, everyone! I’m glad to see so many of you here today. This is Introduction to Psychology with me, Professor Meredith Shaw. If that isn’t on your schedule, you’re not in the right class.” The professor waited a few moments to give anyone who accidentally walked into the wrong class a chance to leave. Professor Shaw lets out a dramatic sigh when no one else moves to leave. “Good! That one person who is in the wrong class is always so embarrassed.”
Everyone in the class, including me, laughs at what she said. I already know I’m going to enjoy this class. The professor talks about the syllabus and then says that she will go over the assignments for the class and then start teaching chapter one. Of course, I’m already writing down the syllabus. I turn to a new page in my notebook and start writing down what is on the PowerPoint when she finally starts teaching the actual course material. My pen runs out of ink about two minutes into the lecture.
I shake my pen in a last-ditch effort to get rid of any ink that isn’t there, but it doesn’t work. I take a deep breath and throw the pen down on my desk as I look for a new one. Of course, I only packed one pen with all the school supplies I packed. I’m really angry with myself. I keep looking in the small pocket of my bag, hoping a pen will magically show up. I feel a poke on my shoulder, and when I turn around, I see a guy with a smile on his face holding out a pen. He has curly brown hair and warm brown eyes that make me want to be with him right away.
I smile back at him and say “thank you” with my mouth as I gratefully take the pen and keep writing down what the teacher says. I write faster than I ever have before during the hour, and I can rest my hand while we watch some videos. I put my elbow on the desk and lean forward, putting the pen to my lips. In the middle of the second video, I realize that this isn’t my pen and I shouldn’t be putting my mouth on it. I hope the nice stranger didn’t see.