it possible that I’d never actually had to say those words before? I’d left Los Angeles so suddenly, and while I’d tried to hold onto the friendships I’d had there, there’d been a newfound awkwardness between myself and the people I’d spent my whole life with that I hadn’t been able to overcome. When I’d stopped calling, they didn’t push it. A thought that still made my insides twist.
Then in Chicago, I’d never brought it up, and yet somehow everyone already knew. I’d kept my head down and focused on my schoolwork, which had brought me to this point, half the country away and only just realizing the words of my parents’ deaths had never yet crossed my lips.
I’d clearly let the moment hang far too long without answering, and the look Gary cast me was a little strange, but fortunately he didn’t have time to press the issue because we’d apparently reached our destination.
“Here we are, Farrington Hall.” He gestured grandly at yet another tall red brick building, complete with ivy and arched windows beneath a high peaked roof. It looked more like a miniature castle than it did a dormitory.
“There are three boys’ dorms and three girls’ dorms,” he explained as he pushed through the main doors, holding them open so I could follow. We went up a short flight of stairs to a large entry area. “They all curve around this side of the lake, and the dining hall is just up the path in the center. This is the Resident Assistant’s desk,” he said, gesturing toward the currently unmanned desk framing off what appeared to be a large office space. There’s an RA in each dorm, and you’ll have to sign in and out after ten p.m., eleven on weekends.” He glanced over his shoulder at me. “No guys in the girls’ dorms after those times, either.”
I nodded, but scoffed internally. Sneaking guys up to my room was at the bottom of my priority list. Priority number one? Survive through the beginning of October so I could get the hell out of here and gain control of my life again. Priority number two? Find the arts building so I could accomplish priority number one.
On either side of the entryway a staircase led up, and Gary turned to the right and started climbing. I followed, and we ended up on the second floor, rows of heavy wooden doors set at intervals framing both sides of a narrow corridor. He stopped in front of a door with a little metal plaque reading 214. “This is you, try out the key.”
I fished in one of the folder pockets and pulled out a heavy metal key on a ring and fitted it into the lock.
“All the dorms are set up the same way,” he explained as he ushered me through the door. “They’re suites, with four bedrooms, a bathroom, and a common area.” He glanced around. “Looks like you got lucky. You’re the first one here, so you can choose your room.”
It honestly hadn’t crossed my mind to wonder if I would have a roommate, let alone three, but I figured if I had my own bedroom I could just ignore them and it wouldn’t be too terrible.
The common area was stacked high with the boxes I’d had shipped in advance, and was sparsely furnished with only a worn sofa and a row of built-in bookshelves. I wondered briefly if I was supposed to have brought my own furnishings. But when I opened the door to one of the four rooms off the common area, I saw with relief that if nothing else, there was a bed and small desk in the bedroom. My aunt and I had been through the supply list the week before, and while I was set with things like sheets and towels, there’d been no mention of larger items like chairs or televisions. Fortunately, I didn’t plan to be here long enough to care.
Although, I supposed I could always go out over the weekend and get anything else I needed. One of the last things Aunt Naomi had given me before I left was a credit card, and despite the dumbfounded amazement I’d felt at the gesture, I sure hadn’t questioned her. If she wanted me to waste her money, I could oblige.
Each bedroom had a large window overlooking a different part of the grounds, and I marveled at the endless vista of towering trees visible from the first room. From here it seemed like