College is the fresh start Mackenna Baker is hoping for, but her past follows her from the small town she left behind like a ghost. She does her best to ignore them and no matter how hard she tries, she can never seem to actually let them go. Shovin...
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"So what happened with Amber and Sierra after Sierra accidentally drank Amber's bottle of sparkling water or whatever?" Miles asks through the phone, recalling the roommate drama that interrupted our phone call last night.
"Amber is just a bitch, I don't know what her problem is. I mean, they had the exact same fucking drink, it was clearly an accident and she totally overreacted. Honestly, Sierra should be more upset than Amber because she drank her backwash," I sigh, walking out of Blue Hall on the early Friday evening after Labor Day.
The first few weeks of school have been going better, I've gotten into a groove, finding shortcuts from my dorm room to clear across campus for most of my classes. I don't have any clear favorites but, I can already tell I'm not going to be the biggest fan of Agroecology. Solely because of the stupid semester long group project I have with three of my classmates.
Which is where I'm headed to now, a work session where we can hopefully settle on an idea and get to work. The less time I have to spend with these people outside of class, the better for me.
"Yeah, who knows what kind of diseases she has," he chuckles.
"Shut up Miles," I shake my head. "Anyway, is there anything new going on with you?"
"No, not really. It's the same. Just working from sun up to sun down basically."
"Miles, that's not healthy."
"So? Dad did it basically his whole life and I've been doing it for a few years now."
"Yeah, and look what happened," I warn. "Look, you're one of the only people I've got left, I'd really like you to stick around for a long time."
"Don't worry, I'll be around longer than you."
"Right, whatever you have to tell yourself," I laugh. "But seriously, nothing new? No new ranch hand drama to fill me in on? You get my roommate drama."
"Uh, um, no. Nothing new with them. They're all just driving me crazy still."
"You just need to kick their asses Miles. Dock their pay, fire them. Something."
"I can't fire them, I need them."
"They're not working though. If anything, they're stressing you out more than anything."
"Agreed, but the little bit they do actually get done is better than nothing. I can't do everything myself."
"Why don't you try looking for better help?"
"I have, no one's biting. It's like we're cursed."
"Sorry," I mumble, adjusting the sleeve of my top red, black and white flannel. My trusty brown boots are pulled up underneath my dark blue washed bootcut jeans and my backpack is hanging off my right shoulder.
"It's not your fault Mackey."
"God, I hate that you still call me that," I blow a piece of curly hair out of my face.
