Beloved

Chapter 3: A Nightmare Come True

New Jersey was the first state that I have ever set foot in on my own. To me, New Jersey was like paradise for an intelligent college girl.

The only three things that I have known about this state: it was called the Garden State, it was known for the Jersey Shore, and surprisingly, New Jersey was known for  its outstanding university, Princeton.

As I was walking down the sidewalk, I caught a yellow taxi driving pass me. For a instant, I dragged the handle of my suitcase and chased after it. "Excuse me," I called, breathing for air. "Taxi!"

The taxi parked abruptly at the sidewalk then waited for me to catch my breath. Then cab driver lowered his window then let me put my suitcase in the back of the trunk.

"Thank you," I gasped as I made it inside of the car. It smelled like soap and car oil. "Where to, miss?" "Princeton University," I answered. The driver nodded then started the car.

As he was driving, I caught glimpses of the huge silver skyscrapers, people walking on the sidewalks, drinking coffee or chatting noisily on the phone, and sounds of the car engine humming softly.

As the trip grew longer, I took out my phone then studied at my Spencer Hastings phone charm. It made me think of Ben. I wondered what he is doing right now. Has he made it to Boston? Is he finally making friends?

I touched the choker necklace that he gave me. I remembered his green eyes sparkled like diamonds when he surprised me with a Valentine's dinner. Was breaking up with him a huge mistake?

I promised myself just as soon as I got settled in Princeton, I will see how he is doing. "Miss?" the cab driver asked. "Miss?" I shook my head away from my thoughts then opened my eyes.

Straight across from me was a reddish brown structured building. "Sorry," I mumbled, handing him a couple of crumbled bills. I grabbed my bag and suitcase that was hiding in the corner of the trunk then hurried until my feet felt numb.

Newly college kids poured out of their cars then carried their heavy luggages into their arms. Brushing the locks away from my eyes, I saw a young man waiting patiently in his brown desk and chair.

He had sandy blond hair and dark eyes. He wears a grey t-shirt, shaggy blue jeans, and sandals. It seems to me that he had been waiting there for hours. As soon as he saw me, he let out a relieved sigh.

"Hello," I said. "I am Cole Porter." The man smiled as he got out a box of some sort then rummaged the papers until he saw my name. "Okay," he said, handing my key card. "You are in room 221 in the girls dorm." "Thanks," I said gratefully, taking the key from his hand.

A small wind tumbled the grass as if they were feathers. Kids were already reunited with their friends and siblings. To and fro, I saw a few of them wearing hoodies with yellow words Princeton across their chests.

Ironically, the kids reminded me of my old high school: pretty girls who are sitting in the are the divas, guys who look like what you normally see in Neighbors are the frat boys, kids who wore glasses and carries the smell of success are the nerds, and so on.

"Ouch," someone cried. "Watch it, klutz." I turned to see a girl wearing a light lavender dress and black pumps. Her brown hair was almost reaching to her neck, her eyes shone indigo blue, and her entire face was covered in Revlon.

"Sorry," I said. "I was so distracted by your hideous face, that I lost my balance." The girl widened her eyes at my insult then stormed away from me. As she walked, a long line of girls followed behind her.

Like the snooty leader, they all wore dresses, heels, purses, and the stench of perfume. I saw people were splitting up by gender then going to their rooms. It won't be long now that I would be the only one who doesn't know where to be.

Noticing a group of girls walking into a slightly large red bricked building, I quietly followed them until I reached into the heart of my so-called house.

The insides of the building reminded me of a hotel, except it was swarming with girls. I saw a few of them scrambled for the elevator while others they try to find their rooms in time.

Maneuvering the gigantic swarm of girls, I eventually made it to the silver doors of the elevator. And since my room is not on this floor, my guess is that it was three rooms up. I pressed the button labeled Up then waited for the door to open.

Just then, someone tapped on my shoulder very impatiently. I turned to see a blond girl wearing pink studded sunglasses, along with a pink tank top, and white khakis. In her arms were tons of suitcases and handbags.

"Hey Madison," I greeted sternly. She removed her glasses then smiled at me. "Hey Cole," she beamed. "It's been like what, three months since I last saw you?" "It has been two years," I corrected. She rolled her eyes then stared at my outfit.

"I see your choice in fashion haven't changed at bit," Madison retorted. "What is it with you and jeans?" "And what is it with you and pink?" I retorted back. The elevator door finally opened. We hurried inside then pushed the buttons to get to our destination.

We waited in awkward silence, hoping one of us would say insulting words to each other. But instead, I caught a glimpse of the cramped box: the wooden walls have been painting over a rich velvety brown that smells like lemons, the floor had some grey  carpeting, and the best part, it has twenty seven different buttons to my right.

"How are things going with you and Luke?" Madison asked. She was the second person who said that to me. "We're doing fine," I answered. "Did you do anything romantic?" she asked.

"Luke made dinner, we danced, and we played Scrabble until his parents were home." I shrugged. "A happy ending." As soon as I left, Ben made me promise not to tell anyone about his real name. I gave him my word in return for a heart warming smile, telling me goodnight.

Eventually, the door finally opened then allowed us to gather our things and find our room numbers. The hallway reminded me of Newton High's slippery corridor.

Except it smelled faintly of strawberries and peaches instead of sweaty gym socks. As I found the number to my door, I slipped my key card inside the slot then twisted the door open.

"Hey," someone cried behind me. "That's my room, go get your own." Madison was crossing her arms looking like an annoyed mother. "This is my room, genius." I snarled. "Why don't you go to your own room?"

"My room number is 221," she replied coldly. I looked at my key card then stared at the number. It was the same number as Madison's. Which means, she is my roommate.