we are the kids » h.s.

o n e

we are the kids who somehow got into college.

as my dad sets my last box down on my new awful mattress, it hits me. i'm in college. i'm moving out of my boring little town in the middle of nowhere, and i'm on my own. jesus.

"well, that's that," my dad stands up and puts his hands on his hips, looking around. i call it his "cop pose". all he needs are the sunglasses and the uniform. "would you like me to stay and help you unpack?"

before he can bail on me i nod and begin to give him orders. 

"start unpacking that box," i tell him. "it's got all of my sweaters in it. start hanging them up and putting them in the closet."

my dad fake salutes me and then gets to work without more than a roll of the eyes. i begin to unpack my jeans and underwear, folding them up and organizing them on my bed. it takes the two of us a while to get into a rhythm that works and doesn't have us awkwardly bumping into each other. 

"do you know when your roommate is going to get here?" he asks, sweat starting to shine on his forehead. i know that he wants to be anywhere but here helping me move in, but i want to keep him around for a little bit longer. we may not be that close, but i do owe him a somewhat normal dropping-your-kid-off-at-college experience.  

"i have no idea to be honest," i shrug. 

"what's her name again?"

"agatha wench," i snort before i can stop myself, and my dad drops the box in his hands. 

"that's such an unfortunate name," he shakes his head, the skin around his eyes crinkling. he looks younger when he laughs, and i think it's because he doesn't laugh often. 

"i hope she's not too bad," i tell him. "i'd hate it if she's as bad as her facebook profile made her seem."

"that's the tricky thing with social media," my dad nodded in agreement. "someone can seem one way online and be totally different in reality."

this is dedicated to my love cami because she's one of my absolute favorites and she's been there through all of my sporadic disappearances from this website *insert much internet hugs*