Page 11 of The Lies We Steal
Nerves bubble in my stomach. Fear of automatic rejection that usually comes attached to my last name.
“Hmmm, never heard of Lowell before. Anyway, it's Flannigan as in Flannigan oil. Yeah, my dad owns it, pretty cool. I just wanted to give you a little heads-up before you entered the bug palace.” She nods her head towards my dorm, popping a bubble as she does.
A breath of relief passes through my lips, like I said, they don’t know me here.
“Bug palace?” I ask, deflecting the attention away from myself.
A place this nice had a bug problem? Maybe if they stopped paying so much for the mowers to make perfect checkered patterns they could get an exterminator.
Budgeting goes a long way, ya know?
“Yeah. Sucks for you, but you're rooming with Lyra Abbott. Super weird goth chick with an obsession with nasty bugs, you’re welcome to hang with us in the student lounge if you don’t want to be in there. You might even be able to get a roommate swap.” She rocks on her heels, back and forth.
I get this feeling Lizzy is being nice because she hasn’t found a reason to be either A. Threatened by me. Or B. Hasn’t sniffed out my weakness.
I like to make my own assumptions about people and I’d like to do that about my own roommate.
“Thanks for the warning. I think I can handle it though.”
Texas has rattlesnakes, I think I can handle some bugs. I start to turn away from her when she speaks up again.
“Anyway,” She sighs, “I’m supposed to hand these out to all the freshmen.” She hands me a black flier, “It’s a homecoming party. Jason Ellis is hosting it this year, which means his parents are out of town on business, so we have their entire estate to rave on.”
I’d never been invited to a party before, let alone gone to one. I’m sure people in my high school had them, I just never went. This felt like a step towards the right direction.
I wondered what parties here would be like? From what I’d heard, rich kids loved to get into things they shouldn’t. Something about having everything they could ever want, but still needing more.
“Sounds cool. Thanks for the invite.” I say coolly.
“Are you like, a local? Or from one of those big monopoly families on the east coast? I’ve never seen you before.” She tilts her head, eyeing me up and down. Taking me in.
Here it is, she’s trying to figure out if I’m competition or just another weird chick she can gossip about to her friends.
“Um, no,” I shake my head, “I’m from Texas.”
“Ohhhh, southern money huh? That’s dope.”
I open my mouth, wanting to correct her, I don’t want to give her a false impression. I’m not ashamed of being poor. Fighting for what you have just shows strength. There’s nothing I need to feel embarrassed about.
“Lizzy! Let’s go!” Someone hollers from down the hallway,
“That’s my cue, I’ll see you tomorrow night?” She offers.
“Ugh, sure thing, yeah, totally.” I stutter over my response, smiling a little.
Finally opening the door to my dorm, all I want to do is drop down on the mothball scented mattress and cover myself with the scratchy comforter I bought from Walmart.
“Yeah, sure thing, totally… What a fucking idiot.” I mimic myself, wanting to smash my head into a wall for being so awkward.
Ada started moving around in my hoodie pocket, meaning she was ready to get settled into her new cage. Thomas had moved some of my stuff inside before I’d arrived, he thought it would make my transition a little easier.
Two matching twin beds on opposite sides of the dorm, a desk at the end for each of the students inside. I waltz to the desk, opening the medium sized cage filled with ropes, toys, and bridges, letting Ada go inside so she can get used to her new surroundings.
I take my time looking at her decor. I am now aware of why they call it the bug palace. Her walls are full of glass boxes and posters of dead bugs. Mostly beetles and butterflies, but I’m pretty sure I spot a spider there somewhere.
I hear the toilet flush, just as I turn seeing the bathroom door open. Out walks my roommate, wearing bright red rain boots that are caked with soggy mud, drying her hands on a paper towel.
We don’t speak for a second, she takes me in just like I am her. Her frizzy brown hair that’s trying to hide underneath a black leather bucket hat, the pieces of her straight across bangs popping out a bit. I note the oval, amber ring on her pointer finger that looks like it has some type of bug trapped inside of it.
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