"Pick up her things," someone said. I try to turn towards the voice but something stops me every damned time. It's getting a little aggravating.
"Now," the voice says, a whisper. I jolt from my sleep and look around a grey, black, and white room. 'Where am I?'
'Ohhhh, right. College. This is my dorm room. Guess it'll take some getting used to.'
Checking the clock, I groan when I see it's only 6:00. I didn't go to bed until after midnight because orientation doesn't start until 9:00. Guess I'll just have some extra time on my hands.
I take an early shower, letting the warm water take away some of the nerves. The Dunkin' Donuts near campus doesn't open until 7:00, so I'm stuck. I watch some Netflix for a little bit, picking a random show. I don't really watch it, it's kind of serving as background noise while I take an obscenely long amount of time picking out an outfit.
Eventually, I settle on a white t-shirt, a denim jacket, black pants and white Nike's. Checking the clock after changing, I realize it's 7:30 and I can go get food.
Leaving my dorm, I walk out and get in my silver Honda CR-V that I bought last year, with my mom and Cleo's help, of course. They took birthday money that they were going to give me, and, with the money I'd earned babysitting and waiting tables for three years, rarely ever spending a dime of it, I was able to pay for my car almost in full, and only had to pay a car note for 14 months. Sure, it might not be a big deal, but it was to me. It made me feel all grown up, but also made me feel like a kid for feeling all grown up.
I pay for a bagel and a Caramel Macchiato, and, because I feel like it and have enough money, I pay for the person's order that's behind me. It's something that Cleo and I always did. We always liked to see the looks on their faces afterwards.
Looking at the dash, I relies its 8:00, so I decide just to eat in my car and call my mom instead of going back in. She should be up by now.
"Tally! How's college life treating you?" She asks after answering my FaceTime call.
I laugh. "I haven't even started Mom."
"Maybe not, but I thought you'd at least bang somebody, since you have an ID Band now and you're up there all by yourself with all those guys-"
"MOM!"
"What? I'm just being honest."
"Oh, dear Lord."
"What? Did I say something?"
I narrow my eyes as I look at her face on the screen. "No, Mom. Nothing at all. You just pictured me having sex on my first night as an adult away from home. And then you told me about it. What's the harm in that?" I deadpan.
"Don't get smart with me. You know what I mean."
"No, not really. Normal parents do whatever they can to not think about their children off at college, on their own, with an ID Band on. But you know, who said we were normal?"
She rolls her eyes as she makes herself a cup of coffee. "How's Nate?" I ask.
"Fine. He misses you."
"I miss him too. I told him I'd come home when I could. I'll probably wait a week or two, though, just so I can get used to the place."
"And the men," she adds, thinking I can't hear her.
"MOM! STOP IT!"
"Daphne, what is wrong with you?" Cleo asks, laughing after she walks into the kitchen. I see her enter the frame and look at my mother like she just grew three heads.
"Good morning, Cleona," my mother says, using Cleo's full name while holding her head high at what she said.
My mother walks out of the frame for a moment and Cleo stares at me through the screen. I shrug, not knowing what to say.
"And since when do you call me Cleona?"
"I was trying it out."
"Well, don't."
"Okay." I shake my head and roll my eyes. My mom and Cleo are sisters through and through. They laugh together, cry together, and bicker constantly.
"How's life, Tally?" Cleo asks.
"Fine."
"Awesome. When does orientation start?"
I glance at my watch. Forty-five minutes."
"You nervous?"
'Abso-fucking-lutely.' I think to myself. Instead, "Not really," comes out.
Cleo gives me a look like she can see straight through me, but thankfully, she doesn't say anything. "Good luck, kid."
"Thanks, Cleo," I say with a smile.
"Is my baby leaving?!" I hear my mom ask from another part of the room. Cleo and I share a smile before my mom says, "Bye, baby! I love you. Just breathe you'll do great."
"Thanks, Mom, I love you too."
"Bye," they say at the same time.
"Bye," I reply, ending the call.
Leaning back, I try to do what my mom said. 'Breathe, Tal, you're overreacting,' I tell myself.
Getting out of the car, I find myself trying to stall as I walk back to my dorm. On my way in, I see a girl about the same height as me, with long blonde hair, and tan skin wearing a blue sundress and tan flats struggling to to carry a box in her room. Putting my keys in my jacket pocket, I run over to help her. "Thanks," the girl says, though I can't see her. "No problem," I tell her, the two of us walking into her dorm. I from what I can see, it's the same set up as mine, though she has it done in blues and purples. Finally getting the box where she wants it she looks up at me and smiles. "Samantha Riley. Everyone just calls me Sam," she says as she holds out her hand. Taking it, I smile back, looking at her hazel eyes. "Talia Phillips. Everyone just calls me Tally."
"Look, I'm sorry, but I have two other boxes just as heavy as that one in my car, do you mind helping?" She asks shyly.
"Not at all."
"Where's your dorm?" She asks as we head back to her car.
"Two down from you."
"Do you know when orientation starts? I got about half a dozen times from about the same amount of people."
I glance at my watch. "A little over half an hour."
Her eyes widen. "Are you serious?! None of the employees here gave me something even close to that. They said noon, and three, and some even said tomorrow and the next day. And they're employees!"
I shake my head as we near a white Toyota Camry. "Sorry. I'll go with you, if you want."
She smiles at me brightly. "I'd like that. You seem like a good person to be around, Tally."
"Thanks, Sam. You too. It's nice to say I know somebody here."
"Same. Where are you from?" She asks as she opens the trunk of her car. Together, we pull out a tub that seems to weigh fifty pounds. I grab one end with one and, and she grabs the other. "Pittsburgh," I asnswer gruffly as we head back in. "You?"
"Chicago. It's why it took me so long to get here. Traffic was horrible, even though I left yesterday at like 10:00 in the morning," she explains. "Then, it was 10:00 at night and I wasn't even out of Pennsylvania yet. So I decided just to get a hotel room and try my luck today."
"That sucks."
"No kidding. But, it's all gonna be worth it. I get to be away from my piece-of-shit father. And, my mom is divorcing him soon, and coming to Baltimore, where she grew up. So, I'll be able to see my mom easily, and I get to not see my dad, it's a win-win."
I smile. "I know a thing or two about piece-of-shit fathers." At her raised brow, I add, "My dad was my rock until I was 15. Then, he walked out on my mom, my little brother, who was 5 at the time, and me without a single glance back. He didn't call, didn't write, didn't even send a card on our birthdays. So yeah, I understand a thing or two about piece-of-shit fathers."
She nods in understanding as we step in the elevator. "I get that. It's almost worse than having him being shitty your entire life. Because you had something, and he took it away." This time, I'm the one who raises my brow. Sighing, she says, "My dad was awesome until I was 10. The. He lost his job and discovered beer. Like a four-year-old, it was his new favorite thing. Unlike a four-year-old, he never grew out of that stage."
I frown and give her a sympathetic look, "I don't know if you want pity, I don't, but I'm sorry. Nobody should have to go through that."
"Nope."
By now, we're nearing her dorm again. Setting the tub inside, we turn back out and start down the hall to the elevator again. 'I swear, I better burn some calories because of this,' I think to myself.
"What are you going to major in?" I ask as we ride the elevator down.
"Criminal Justice, or Psychology. I like knowing how the mind works."
"Me too. I'm doing Journalism, though. I want to be a PR person or something like it."
She raises her brows as the elevator opens. "What made you decide to do that?"
"My mom's one. I kind of grew up around it and grew love it."
"Hmm. Lucky you. It took me years to even narrow the list down. I still don't know what I'm doing."
I smile, saying, "You'll be fine. If you need any help, I'll be here."
"Thanks, Tally."
"Of course."
"And," she adds, "Even though I have no clue how I'd help, you could always ask me for help if you needed something. Smiling again, I thank her as we near her car. We take the last box, thankfully it has handles, so it's easier for us to carry.
This time, when we go to walk back in, the guy from yesterday is walking by. Today, he has a ball cap on backwards, a black sweatshirt, and black pants on with a pair of white Air Force 1 shoes. I roll my eyes and try to keep my head down, but it's too late, he's already noticed me, and this time, he slaps my ass. Sam and I stop staring at the guy, and he suddenly notices Sam. "Damn baby, you got some curves. Why don't you come over to my dorm sometime? I'll-"
"Give you a proper introduction," I finish. "He said the same thing to me yesterday," I explain to Sam. "And to every other girl that walked by."
"Yep. Got something to say about it today, Bedroom Slut?" He fakes a cough. "I mean Bedroom Sub?"
I grin before saying, "Only that you seem to not have gotten any smarter." And just like that, I'm back against the wall for the second time in as many days. "Why don't we fix that sweet mouth of yours?" He goes to slap me like yesterday, but this time, he's punched in the jaw.
"You really can't take a hint, can you?" That voice. It's the same as yesterday. This time, I turn towards it.
Gorgeous. That's the only word for him. Sex on legs. He's taller than my 5'4 by 5 or six inches at the least. He has hair darker than my caramel brown, just light enough to tell that it's not black. He has a chiseled tan face and a killer strong jawline with sensual lips that quirk up into a smile. Brown eyes meet my blue ones and I gasp. His breath hisses out of his lips, and he looks me up and down. What am I wearing again? Oh, right. Denim jacket, white T-shirt, black jeans, Nike's. 'Not too casual is it?' I start worrying about how I look and how good my hair looks, since I only intended in going on a quick breakfast run, I just threw it up in a messy bun. I look him up and down and notice he's wearing a white t-shirt like me, a black bomber jacket, black jeans, and black tennis shoes.
He looks at me with a bemused expression, of which I'm sure my face mirrors. He opens his mouth to say something, then suddenly thinks better of it, reaching behind me to open the door, and going into the girls' dorm. Standing there, dumbfounded, I almost forget I'm going to the same place, so I'm allowed to follow him. Sam gives me a look saying she thought of the same thing, and we quickly pick up the box and head to the elevator. Standing behind him, I pretend not to notice him and look at my phone. Sam purses her lips and looks around the room, acting casual as well. He doesn't glance at us, just stares at the doors of the elevator, although I hear an exasperated sigh. He goes in first, Sam and I filing in last and standing at the front of the elevator. At the last second, Sam yells, "Oh crap! I left my phone in the car. I'll be right back."
"Sam!" I yell as she rushes out. I know what she's doing. I saw her put her phone in the box so she wouldn't have to carry anything else. Holding the elevator doors, I stick my head out to call after her. "I can't carry this by myself. It weighs like 50 pounds, and it's a rectangle, which is already hard to carry," I tell her, hoping to throw a monkey wrench in her plan. "Just push it out of the elevator when you get to our floor," she says. "Then wait there and I'lol help you when I come back up." She walks a few feet towards me, then pushes me back, just enough so that my hold the doors slips, and the doors close.
The second that door closes, I'm screwed. The tension between me and Mr. McHottie is palpable and suffocating. I feel like I'm hyperventilating in moments from the desire to jump his bones. Leaning against the side wall, I close my eyes and wait to get to the third floor. I can feel his eyes on me, and eventually, I give up. But you see, that's the mistake, because the second our eyes meet, we give into the tension, and lunge for each other.