If Only You Knew

VIII. Jobs, Classes, and Coffee

I woke up early the next day, Sunday, and was sure to stop by dorm 20 to see Zachariah about some clothes. If I had more cash on me, I would've just stopped by Ross or Berlington and picked a few shirts and pants up.
But, I was broke. And if I were going to continue to afford college, I had to find a job at least by the end of the week.
I shrugged and clung onto my over the shoulder bag strap that I used to carry a pad of paper, a pen, a pencil and envelopes. I carried these items around because I was always writing. Always jotting down thoughts, feelings, emotions. All sorts of things. Sometimes I would even sketch if I could find something that intrigued me. I liked to think of myself as an artistic individual. It was something I enjoyed at least.

I rounded the corner and scanned the doors for 20.
Sixteen...seventeen...eighteen... Ah! Twenty.

I stopped and looked at the door. It was decorated with footballs and marijuana stickers. I didn't even know they allowed that at Stanford, but then again, it probably wasn't allowed...
I lifted my fist up and gently knocked on the door. It was 7:58am. A little earlier than he said to be there. But what is two minutes when all you're doing is grabbing clothes?

I heard some shuffling on the other side of the door and suddenly it flung open. There stood a bowed shouldered Zachariah. Rubbing the back of his neck slightly as he stretched and yawned.
'G'morning, Lee.' Lee? What was up with everyone giving people nicknames that didn't make no sense.
I shrugged it off, 'Good morning Zachariah.'
'Just call me Zach. Too many syllables for the first thing in the morning,' he yawned once more before stepping aside. His white wife beater looked slightly stained and dainty. His grey sweatpants sat just below his hip. It appeared that he just woke up.
'Come on inside.'
I stepped inside and the room was surprisingly tidy, despite his own appearance.
'The clothes are over there on my roommates bed. He's not here so I helped myself to his clothes as well.'

My eyes darted around the room. As if I were looking for someone ready to pounce on me or something. I walked over to the clothes on the bed. All of them having some sport brand name on them.
Black t shirts with Nike logos. Some shorts with Adidas. A few muscle shirts with Puma logos on them. I felt misplaced. I never wore sports brands. I peeked over my shoulder at Zachariah.
We shared a gaze for just a second before he scratched his head and walked over.
'You said you helped yourself to your roommates clothes?' I sheepishly smiled. I couldn't just take someone's clothes.
Zachariah nods, 'Yep. He won't care though. He's my cousin. See those,' he points his slender, tan finger towards a pile graphic tees. 'Those are his. He don't hardly wear them and they take up space.'

I bit my lips slightly and rummaged through the close. Heat flushed my face as I looked through the clothes, taking in every logo, color, design, etc. I felt like a beggar.
'I don't know if I should accept any of this,' I finally shrugged.
Zachariah raised an eyebrow and chuckled slightly.
'What? You're too fancy for us, Sheffield?'
Sheffield? How did he know my last name? I thought as I turned to face him. His toned arms were crossed.

'N-no that's not it at all.' I stuttered slightly. 'It's just—'
'It's just that none of these shirts, pants and shorts are your style? Ya know for someone with only one suit, you sure are picky as hell.' He shrugged.
'No, it's not that. It's just... I haven't had anything other than suits. The last time I had even a T-shirt was when I was like six.'

  Zachariah's eyes widened as he uncrossed his arms, 'Say what?! Six? What kind of nut house do you live in?!'
Nut house?
'My parents are obsessed over appearance. All my closet consisted of was suits and button downs.' I sighed and continued to rummage through the stuff. 'I don't even get why we are doing this. Or why y'all even ruined my suits.' I picked up a black Nike shirt, it was somewhat smooth. 'Those were expensive you know. The suits.'