Vanessa
My parents had long since left my university in a flurry of tight embraces and weepy kisses and I was finally alone. I was carefully folding my favorite pair of black denim jeans with the rips in the knees when the door swung open.
I had yet to meet my roommate but gathered by the neatly made bed adorned with simple plaid linens and a pile of books stacked precisely on an otherwise barren wooden desk, she had already arrived at the dorm. As I set my pants down on a low shelf in the narrow closet, I glanced over to see a petite blonde with red, wire-rimmed glasses staring at me with her mouth agape. I furrowed my brows, thinking that she looked vaguely familiar.
Taking a step forward, she pressed her palm to her chest. "Vanessa?" She inquired as she pushed her frames up her pointy nose. "Vanessa Adams, is that you?"
I tilted my head, studying her. "Yes, it's me...and you are? I'm sorry. I can't seem to quite place your name."
She pointed to herself enthusiastically. "It's me! Quinn Spears! From middle school!"
Oh no. My heart sank. I remembered her perfectly now. She was known as the class gossip of the seventh grade and had no qualms blabbing to my crush, Aaron Long in front of the entire room how I felt about him. I shuddered, recalling his cruel response in the form of a deep belly laugh and a shout of, "Ew! She's ugly." It had only given me a complex about the way I looked for years and did wonders for my self-esteem but hey, it's no big deal, right?
"Hi, Quinn," I said weakly, forcing a tight smile. I shut the cabinet-sized closet door and sat down on the firm mattress, shifting to find a comfortable spot. "How have you been?" You know, since that time you ruined my life.
Ignoring my question and letting out a shrill squeal, she rushed over to give me a hug that constricted my breathing. "This is so exciting!" She gushed. "I can't believe we're roommates. This is going to be the best year ever."
"Yea, I guess." I gently pushed her away, tucking a strand of wavy brunette hair behind my ear and returning my attention back to my unpacking. Except my idea of a great start to college doesn't include sharing a space with a girl that made my life hell during my formative ages.
Sighing, I picked up a picture I had snapped of Matt and myself before I left Connecticut and cradled it in my arms. I had grown accustomed to my brown eyes and nondescript features, accepting that I wasn't exactly the troll I had convinced myself that I was.
But still, Matt's out of your league. I shivered as my gaze raked over his image. Even though he had a brooding expression, pierced ears, and a tattoo of his deceased mother's name on his forearm, he was the opposite of a bad boy. However, that didn't mean that he wasn't still capable of breaking my heart.
I lovingly set the frame down on the desk, remembering that day vividly. We were lying in the plush green grass, not caring that the morning dew was soaking through our clothes. As I snuggled into his neck, I listened intently as he read aloud a passage from his favorite novel. The deep timbre of his voice reverberated against my ear, and a Cedarwood aroma wafted from his t-shirt. Whenever someone summoned me to think of my happy place, that was it.
We look so happy. I ran my thumb over his face as a sudden wave of homesickness overtook me. You'll be together again soon.
Suddenly, Quinn yanked the photo off the desk, startling me. "Is this your boyfriend?" She inquired, snapping on a mouthful of bubblegum. "He's dreamy."
I grabbed the frame from her hands. Oh no you don't. You will not ruin another relationship for me. "Yes," I replied curtly.
Unfazed by my harsh tone, she plopped down on her bed with a wistful smile as she swung her legs and twirled a lock of flaxen strands around one finger. "What's his name?"
"Matt."
She nodded for me to continue. "Where's he now?"
Not here, I thought gloomily. "Listen, Quinn, I'm glad that you're not some angry Emo chick with a bad attitude but it's been a long day and I'm quite tired so can we save the girl talk for another time?" I rubbed at the dull ache throbbing in my temples that threatened to give way to a full-blown migraine at any moment.
She mimed zipping her lips. "Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. I've been told I don't know when to shut up. It's becoming a horrible habit, but I promise I'm working on it. I'll be quiet now, 'Nessa. Can I call you 'Nessa? It's such a beautiful name. Sounds very exotic."
I stared at her, physically restraining myself from rolling my eyes all the way back into my head. Pushing off the blush-colored comforter, I scooped up my black crossbody bag and swung it over one shoulder. "I'm going for walk," I announced.
As I made my way down the musty corridor and passed by students excitedly shouting as they lugged cardboard boxes and plastic bins full of belongings into their dorm rooms, the zest for the city that had surged through me earlier, began deflating from my body in a slow leak.
And for the first time since choosing NYU for my schooling, I wondered, what if I made a mistake?
Matt
$410. I stared down at my first paycheck, feeling dejected. I had envisioned a bit more elation at finally having money that I had earned myself, but the measly amount scarcely felt worth the week I had spent busting my ass, cleaning up after other people.
If there was one thing this job had taught me, it was that humans were disgusting; leaving behind their crumpled, dirty napkins that littered the table amongst smeared ketchup and crumbs that had also found their way onto the floor. As I sat in one of the booths, fingering the crisp edges of the paystub, I worked up the motivation to get back to my job bussing tables.
I glanced up as the kitchen door swung open and my boss popped his head out. "Matthew? Are you on your break?"
Quickly scrambling to my feet, I brushed off my hands on the stained black apron that I was forced to wear around my waist. "No, sir. Sorry. What do you need me to do?"
He bobbed his head, waving me off. "No worries, boy. You work harder than half the employees in this place put together. I don't mind if you take a few minutes every now and again. Just don't make a habit out of it."
He gestured for me to follow him into the back room. "There's someone here I want you to meet. We have a new waitress starting today. I was hoping you could show her around the place and get her acquainted to where we keep everything."
I nodded. "Absolutely, sir. What's her name?"
My boss led me into his office, and I halted dead in my tracks as a red head with freckles swiveled around in his leather chair, hitting me with a Cheshire cat grin. "Aimee," he began. "This is Matthew. He's one of our star workers and you'll be shadowing him around for the next while."
"Excellent," she cooed, standing up and taking my hand in her slender one to give it a shake. "I'm so excited to be here."
I gulped. I suppose there were worse things than having the girl that gave you head and stalked you for an entire year afterwards show up at your job as the new employee but if there were, I couldn't think of them. "Hey," I mumbled through clenched teeth.
My boss clapped me on the back. "Alright, no sense in me hovering around and micromanaging. I'll let you two take it from here."
"So," Aimee opened, biting a cherry red lip. "How have you been? You stopped answering my text messages."
"I changed my number," I replied flatly, walking away. "If you follow me, I'll take you to the back."
Her mouth parted into an 'O' shape and her mossy green eyes glittered. "I wasn't expecting an invitation right away but if you insist."
Heat crept into my cheeks. "Uh...not what I meant. I'll point out where we keep the supplies. Napkins, straws, extra parmesan, that sort of thing."
She tucked a flaming orange strand of hair behind one ear and leaned in close to me. "Can you point me in the direction of your most private body parts? Because I would really like to see that too."
She hooked one finger through my belt loop and guided me to her. "How is it that you keep getting sexier and sexier every day?" she purred.
Backing away, I knocked into a shelf behind me, causing boxes of gloves and spray bottles to crash to the ground. "Aimee..." I squeaked out. "I'd really just rather show you the ketchup."