I didn’t move across the country to cry. I got up from my bed, stretching. Searching through my pile of clothes, I found a pair of skinny jeans, a NASA tee, and a pair of flats I found at Target last night and changed into them. I grabbed my bag of toiletries and headed for the community bathroom. The shower situation would be my only downgrade.
The inside wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but I’d never been accustomed to a life of luxury. For the most part, everything was covered with stalls or curtains. I relaxed my shoulders slightly, looking in the mirror. My dark red hair lay in waves down my back from being in a messy bun last night. It almost looked like I did it on purpose. I brushed through it once, and then applied mascara and bronzer. I’d never been a makeup guru. I never did anything that would attract the attention of people where I was from.
I looked…normal, which was what I’d always wanted. I grabbed my small bag and walked toward my dorm. The hallway was packed with sleepy college students, trudging in every direction. When I was back at my room, I tossed my bag onto my table and grabbed the newer backpack I had found shopping the previous night. It was stuffed with notebooks, pens, and my class schedule. I looked in the mirror once more, exhaling. I smoothed my shirt down and turned for the door.
“I’ve never seen a sophomore so shaken up about classes.” I turned, finding Josie staring at me. Her smirk was evil, but I’d decided that is just how her face was.
“I’m already behind in my classes,” I reminded her.
“You just missed the first day. They hand out syllabuses and tell you to leave,” she said, rolling her eyes. She stood and stretched.
“Oh. Great.”
“What did they do at the school you transferred from?” She stood with her hands on her hips. I could see the wheels turning in her head. “You did transfer from somewhere, right?”
I twisted my hair with my right hand, a nervous habit I couldn’t kick. I hated attention, and I hated people knowing any details about me, but Josie apologized. And I was a different person than I used to be.
“No…I worked to save up enough money to get here,” I said. I worked to provide for Kaleb.
“You saved up enough money to go to an out-of-state university in a year? What do your parents think?” She eyed me suspiciously.
“No, not at all,” I said, shaking my head. “My dad is happy for me.”
“And your mom?”
“She’s dead,” I said, hoping that would shut her up. I’d discovered that people usually stop talking if you make them uncomfortable. Her smirk fell, leaving behind a frown. She might really have a soul after all.
“Sorry. My parents are both gone,” she said.
“I’m, uh, sorry to hear that. I need to…get to class,” I said. I threw the plaid backpack over my shoulder and ran into a student, trying to get away from my dorm. My social awkwardness could only be linked to the lifetime of being bullied.
My first class was English 1301. As I stepped out of the dorm, I wondered if I should have waited for Josie. The sea of students at the end of the steps was not what I wanted to step into right now. A red leaf came sailing in my direction, floating until it landed on my feet. I picked it up, studying it, and then put it in my backpack for safe keeping. I grabbed the strap of my backpack with newfound courage and stepped into the crowd.
I knew this campus like the back of my hand. I wouldn’t say I have a photographic memory, but I have never forgotten anything. Without having to constantly check a map, I found the English building.
My classroom was on the second door on the left. I opened the door and heard a loud thud, and the gasp that followed. I found a tiny girl with braided dark hair, grabbing papers off the floor.
“Here, let me help,” I said. Heat pooled in my face. Everyone was looking at me and the poor girl I had hit with a door.
“It’s fine, really,” she said. Her voice came out as a squeak.
“I’m so, so sorry,” I said.
She picked up the last of her papers and stood immediately. Her tan face was free of makeup, and she was beautiful. Dark black lenses covered half of her small face.
“I’m Gabby,” she said. She switched the papers into her left hand and held out her right. I shook her hand awkwardly.
“I’m Autumn.”
“Nice shirt,” she said, laughing. I looked at mine, and then hers, noting we were wearing the same one. “Do you want to sit with me? There’s a spot open.”
“That would be great actually.” My face was as bright as my hair as I turned and faced the theater-styled room. She walked to the front row and sat down. I wanted to hide in the middle of the students, but I slid into the seat beside her.
A woman looking like she was carrying an emotional burden the size of the room came in. Her sandy blonde hair was sticking out of her ponytail in pieces.
“That’s Professor Lancaster,” Gabby said, leaning over.
“Did anyone miss the first day? I have extra syllabi and schedules,” she said. Even her voice was stressed.
She held the papers up, looking around at the students. I slowly raised my hand. Nothing in this
