Choices (Book Four)

Chapter 1

Lyla

You ever have that moment where you take a step back from your own life and look at where you are? Who you are? It's a strange thing to think about how I got here. It all comes down to a series of choices. Choices I've made and choices that were made for me. Something as simple as when I was a little girl and my parents choose what school to send me to, what sports to enrol me in, who their own support system would be that became a part of my life as well. To when I got to chose where I wanted to attend College, what I wanted to study, and what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. No one gives you a warning or a heads up that one day, out of nowhere, you're just suddenly responsible fro all your life's decisions. You don't get a manual or a class on what to do, just your own knowledge and gut instinct to go off of. Sure, the small stuff is easy, like what am I going to have for lunch today is something I think I can handle on my own. But what about the big stuff? How are you supposed to know when you're making the right choice? The answer, I've come to realize, is that you simply don't know.

    Today is my last first day of school. At least that's the plan. Who knows if one day I'll be back in a classroom, learning about some new found interest or developing a new skillset. It's hard to believe two years ago I stood in front of this very same building. Oakridge College. It doesn't seem nearly as intimidating today as it had that day two years ago. I remember the nervous butterflies in my stomach as I navigated my way through the halls trying to find each class before I ended up being late. I tried to put on a brave face, but I was scared shitless on the inside. It feels like I just left for summer break, yet here I am back to start a whole new semester of classes and placements.

    At least today I have a better lay of the land of campus and already know where to go for my first class of the day, which I'm on my way to now. I made sure to get up early this morning so I could go for a run and be back with plenty of time to shower, get dressed, and sit to enjoy a cup of coffee with Megan. It feels like no time has passed with us even though we spent the entire summer apart. We both moved back into our apartment this past Friday and spent most of the weekend unpacking and catching up. She spent the summer back home at her family farm. I got to hear all about her summer fling with her older brother's best friend. They had to keep their romance a secret for the few months they were together, which seemed to only entice Meg more.

    I glance to my right as I walk past the administration office. The same sign hangs above the door that I've always known and I can feel myself being transported back to my first day here again. A day my mind seems to like to relive frequently. I can still feel the warmth and roughness of his hand on mine. I can still see the bright green of his eyes dancing with amusement. I can still feel the goosebumps that ran down my arms as he smirked down at me his dimples entrancing me as I felt frozen in time.

    Shawn. I haven't spoken to or seen him since the morning I left him asleep in his bed three months ago. I made an attempt to reach out to him over the summer, sending him three emails, one per month, while I was in Africa. Initially, the whole sending an email thing felt so impersonal. The only emails I really send are school related to Professors, so sending one to Shawn felt unfamiliar and distant. Yet I knew I had too much to say to cover in a text message, as tempting as it was so I could at least see whether it was read or not. Each email went unanswered. I didn't really blame him for that though. Even as I hit send on each of them I had a strong sense they'd go right into his trash folder without being opened. He wasn't missing much either, each email was short and simple, basically highlighting one or two things I had been working on that month through my volunteering.

    If I had been honest in them and told him how I really spent a good chunk of the summer I would have sounded completely pathetic. The truth is, the first four weeks in Africa I spent crying and mopping around for the most part. I managed to get myself together enough to focus during the volunteer and work aspect of the day, but every night I went straight back to my room I was sharing with three other girls and would lay in bed reading or watching old romance movies I had downloaded on my phone. After those four weeks, I slowly started to vacate my room a bit more each day and interact with other people in the program.