Roomies

Chapter One : Introductions

BAYLOR

  There are more trophies than I would like to pack, or even count for that matter.  Dad insisted I bring them, said they could buy me a spot in any team I wanted.  I laughed at his choice of words.  That's how the world runs, huh dad?  Buy it and bend it to your will?

  I grab the pen from my ear and the notepad from my pocket, jotting down a few sentences to form into something later.  I guess I appreciated the lack of empathy in my parents, gave me something to feel and write about.  I flip to the first page, crinkled and slightly smudged.  I reread the sloppy lines over and over, reminding myself of what's to come and why I'm here.

"BAYLOR!" I hear from down the hall, her heels clicking against the wood flooring.  I can smell my mom's $300 perfume before she even makes it to my bedroom door.

  "Really dear, I'm amazed at your ability to make it appear we don't have a daily housekeeper." She steps carefully-and way over dramatically-around the boxes and so called clutter.  "That's disgusting", she points towards a half eaten sandwich, "HOW OLD IS THAT?"

"Like, 15 minutes? You were in the kitchen when I made it." I try not to get too upset. This is nothing new.

"Your father called," she continues unfazed, "he's in a meeting with one of his clients, and I have to go meet with Duncan to discuss the appraisal on that duplex."

"Well good luck with that.  I'll see myself off." I smile cheerfully, hoping to crush her heart with guilt. She pats my cheek and sashays out, an apology or goodbye apparently not needed. I'm tempted to throw the trophies down the stairs after her, but I do with putting them into the boxes instead.

  Across the room, my phone buzzes for probably the millionth time.  I try and ignore it, until my sister SaraLynn walks in.

  "Do you realize how annoying it is to have to hear someone else's phone go off 47 times?  Answer the damn thing."  She rubs her temples the same way my mom does when she's frustrated, which is always.

  "47?  That's it?"  She shoots a dirty look before throwing the phone at me. "It's Layla."  I say defensively. 

  "Ugh, seriously?"  She rolls her eyes as she sits delicately in my bean bag.  "You're going to have to talk to her about this eventually.  Does she even know you're leaving today?"

  "Hence all the calls.  She wants me to visit her before I head to New York."  Now I rub my temples in a hopefully non feminine way.

  "So go see her.  It's not like classes are starting for another few weeks.  You have plenty of time."

  "I don't want to see her.  There's nothing I can say to her that she hasn't already heard.  She just doesn't want my answer."  I pull out my notebook and start scribbling words.  It helps me relax.

  "So it really is over this time."  Sar sighs, brushing off an invisible piece of dust from her skirt.  "I heard she was finally done with rehab."

  "Good.  Maybe now she'll be able to move forward."  I stand and help her to her feet. 

 "When are you leaving?"

    "Soon." I grimace.  She pulls me into a hug.

  "Promise me we'll keep in touch even when i'm on the other side of the world." She mumbles into my chest.

  "I promise."  I rub her shoulders as she backs away, pulling herself back together. "I'm so proud of you."

"And I am of you, Baylor.  I'm glad you decided to chase your own dreams instead of daddy's." She looks down at her phone and sighs. "Well you'd better get going then.  That's not a fun drive."  She blows a kiss before disappearing back into her room.

  I shove as much as I can in the trunk and back seat of my Impala.  No way was I taking the truck and leaving my baby for the sake of efficiency.  I jump in and start the ignition, savoring the sweet rattling sounds of the engine and Twisted Sister blaring through the speakers. 

  "I'm gettin' the hell out of here!" I yell to the world.  No sappy goodbyes, no lectures.  Just me against the universe.  I release the clutch and pound on the gas, screaming into the wind as I ride off into the sunrise.

CHAR

  Lyrics sing in my ears as my step monster tries to lecture me. What to do at college, how I should act, how I should be throwing away my ratty old clothes and that I need to dye my hair back. The more she talks the more I ignore her until I hear the most peaceful sound-silence from her.

  She starts tapping her pointed heel at me. "Charlotte, are you even listening to me?"

I reply without looking up. "Nope."

  She let's out a sigh, rubbing her forehead. "Charlotte, I am trying to help you succeed in life. I think it's best you pursue something more permanent than the arts. They may be fun now while you have no responsibilities, but they are not a stable source of income."

  I cross my arms at her. "I find it interesting that the arts have been a thriving lifestyle since the time of the Babylonians and yet "permanent" as you call them careers have come and gone.  When was the last time you actually used your degree?"

Her face turns red. "Young lady I will not allow you to talk to your mother like-"

"You're not my mother!" I yell, finally pulling out my headphones.  "You just happened to marry my dad 4 years ago.  Now if you would leave please, as I have enough to do right now." I slide the headphones over my ears.  She turns around and slams the door behind her.

"Good riddance" I mutter and finish up my book collection. I stand up straight and look at my now almost empty room. acceptance letter to Coastal Ridge University is still taped to my desk, a picture of my mom next to it. Her smiling face heals the heat of the moment. "I'm almost there mom. I'll make you proud, I swear."

"Daddy I promise it'll all be okay. I have everything I need and even some that I don't. I'll be fine." I say giving him a tight hug and stepping back. "Just let me unload the truck and I'll be good to go."

Dad shakes his head, reaching into his pocket to pull out the keys and a piece of paper. "Take your time." He says, placing it into my hands. "It's yours now."

I look at him agape in shock. "Seriously? Are you freaking kidding me? The yellow truck?" I ask, stammering to find the words.  He chuckles and grasps my shoulders.
"You're in a yellow truck with a road in front of you, the possibilities are endless." He hands over the insurance papers and title. "Start your journey, Char. Trust me, it'll be worth it in the end." He gives me another hug and backs away. "Wait, how are you going to get home?" I ask. He smiles and pulls out his phone. "Your stepmother is on her way.  Don't worry about us." I fall into his chest, everything suddenly feeling so real and overwhelming.  He kisses my head as I let him go, trying to hide the tears in the corners of his wrinkled eyes.  I will myself not to panic as he turns and walks back towards the front parking lot.  I didn't expect freedom to feel so terrifying.
"Alright, here we go." I mutter to myself, and walk nervously to the office.