Ebony Wings

5

~Ali~

I am grateful that on my first morning at University I wake up with somebody to talk to, even if it is just light, inconsequential chatter as we walk out of the door. It feels like the entire room dynamic has flipped one hundred and eighty degrees and I would be lying if I said I did not enjoy the company.

By midday I am getting to grips with my timetable and when third period rolls around, I take my pick of the hall for seating, sliding into one of the empty middle benches in the Political History lecture theatre. I place my freshly bought coffee on the table space in front of me, sliding the lid half off to let the coils of hot steam escape. I pull out a pad of paper and a pen, slowly preparing myself as I wait for everybody else to show up. 

A few other students slowly file in followed by the professor some minutes later. She prepares herself at the front desk, setting up the projector and wiping down the three-panelled whiteboard. 

A bag is thrown down beside me, bouncing off of the cushioned seating and rolling onto the floor. I start at the unexpected noise and knock my coffee in surprise causing a small dribble to slosh out of the side. Will slides in next to me, stretching out his long legs into the aisle. Two more familiar faces appear as Amber and Tami slide into the spaces on the other side of me. We chat between the four of us about anything that comes to our minds, talking comfortably like we have known each other for longer than just twenty four hours.

Once the clock reaches a few minutes after one o'clock, the lecturer begins her lesson and Will pulls out a laptop, tapping away at the keys when necessary, his long, tapered fingers dancing across the lit-up board. I remind myself to keep my eyes on the presentation at the front. 

I have another small groups session after my lecture and a meeting with my tutor in the afternoon - a person who's role is to support and guide me through my first year. However, after meeting him I would have guessed that a lemon has better social engagement than that man. It is no secret that I do not foresee gaining much academic support or emotional comfort from him over the course of the year. 

When my commitments are over for the day, I take no time in retiring to my bunk. I sit cross legged on the mattress, leaning against the uncomfortable bars of the headboard. Jaz emerges from the kitchen with what looks to be a small book in her hand and a coffee in the other, also having finished early today.

"There you are! Hey, I rented out this movie," she announces happily, waving not a book but a film in the air with Scary Movie printed across the top in bold, red letters. "Do you want to watch it with me and make some popcorn? I heard it is really funny but of course you don't have to if it is not your kind of thing." A sense of accomplishment fills me as I feel I achieved the impossible; I made Jaz not hate me! I cannot help my silly smile as I chirp back my eager response.

"Is that microwave popcorn?" I wonder, considering the lack of a microwave in our room.

"Don't worry, I sorted us out!" Jaz does not turn to face me as she wrestles the movie into the player. I go to put my phone on charge, plugging it into the short charging cable on the bedside table and that is when I see it; something very out of place on my inexpensive side of the room - a small black, velvet box carefully arranged under the small side lamp beside my reading book. Maybe it is not a big deal to everyone else but I know I do not own anything fancy enough to warrant a plush box, so it takes me a moment to register its placement there.

I study the box curiously and hold it carefully in my hands, massaging the buttery velvet casing.  

"Jaz, I think you left this on my bedside table by accident," I say, holding out the closed box.