24 Days

December 1st, Day One (Noelle)

NOELLE

The loose board creeks beneath my warn-out Van's slip-ons and my hand clenches tightly onto the splintered stair railing.

"This building is NOT up to code," I warn my friend, desperate for a reason to go back to our apartment and skip this frat party.

"Oh my God, stop it," Kelsey says with exacerbation. "That's like the fifteenth excuse you've made to go home." She turns and makes sure I can see as she rolls her big brown eyes. "Suck it up. I went to that nerd gathering for you."

"Book club? Kelsey that's hardly comparable to a frat party." I insist.

"Tell me about it. BOR-ING. Look, there are so many guys from campus here," she says, grabbing the sleeve of my puffer jacket and propelling me up the last two steps.

She's not wrong; the house is packed. Wall-to-wall college kids with hands full of red cups or seltzers. It's my turn to roll my eyes. I'm not against a fun party, but I just find this kind rather meaningless. Everyone is too drunk to even remember a moment of it.

"Don't leave me," I say as I peek into what used to be a living room. It's lined with huge portraits of boys and if you start from the beginning, you can watch the evolution of the frat boys starting from the 1950's through today. I cover my amused chuckle with a cough. "Kelsey have you seen—"

Kelsey, my only friend at this party, is gone. Whisked off to some room to dance until her feet hurt while screaming over the music to make sure she has no voice tomorrow. I'm alone. Like always. I can't wait to go home—and not just home to our apartment. No, I want to go home, home.

I find my way to what I'm guessing is the line for the bathroom. Leaning against the wall, I look at the large individual, glossy photos of three boys in the hallway. Isaac Gomez, the frat's VP according to the gold plate beneath his photo, Peter McCoy, the treasurer, and of course, Saint Christianson the president. Insert huge eyeroll. Ewww. I didn't realize you could make a hallway in an old house pretentious. 

The line inches forward. I just need to wash my hand that's sticky from the railing and then find Kelsey and stand next to her until she finally relents and agrees to hit up Jack-in-the-Box before we head home. The door to the bathroom opens and a couple emerges. The girl in front of me thinks better of what might be in there and leaves.

"Excuse me," Saint says as he slips into the bathroom cutting the line. He's even annoying on his down time. I thought maybe he kept being asshole to the classroom, but I was clearly wrong.

I close my eyes and imagine the kitchen at my house. The way my mom would be cooking dinner right now and my sister would be at the table finishing homework. I miss it so deeply. There were always going to be sacrifices going to college. When I accepted the scholarship, it would require me to live on the opposite coast of the one I grew up on. Most kids love that, but I wasn't exactly running from home or towards any missing independence just beyond my reach in town. I grew up with a single mom, taking care of two kids on her own. I had more independence than I wanted. Not being able to afford the ticket home for Thanksgiving was crushing again this year, but only twenty-four more days until my faded Vans would be back on the worn linoleum of my childhood kitchen. Nothing could ruin the mood that thought puts me in.

"All yours," Saint says as he exits the bathroom in front of me. I don't have to open my eyes to know it's him. He's been an annoyance all semester. I wait an extra second hoping to hold on to the thought of home a little longer.

"You trashed or something?" he asks.

"What?' I ask as I open my eyes.

"You ok?" he asks.