two
Taylor and I spent the rest of that evening trying to properly settle into our room together before exhaustion had the chance to tire both of us out for the night. The moment I could finally plop down on the bed was quite possibly the best feeling I had felt all day. I was sore. Everywhere.
My first lecture was tomorrow, paired with the exhaustion today left, and sleep seemed to be the only reasonable thing left to do. Taylor's schedule on the other hand was completely different than mine—not to mention she still had to attend orientation in the morning.
Because all of my classes were later in the day, I intended using the start of it to familiarize myself with the campus without having to wake up extremely early. That was probably the most exciting thing college had to offer someone like me.
Morning seemed to arrive quicker than I hoped. The sound of Taylor shuffling out of the dorm woke me before my alarm clock got the chance. She apologized for all the commotion before slipping out of the door and leaving me behind.
Having to share a space with someone else would definitely take some getting used to, but I appreciated the fact that Taylor always tried her best to make things less awkward between us, and in a way, I mentally thanked her for diffusing the anxiety I built around the first conversation after our first night rooming together.
There wasn't much left for me to do on my side of the dorm today thanks to last night's willpower, so i figured scoping the place out would only benefit me in the long run. Besides the dorm, I made sure everything else was exactly the way it needed to be weeks in advance of this day. I might have even been a little over prepared, but that was fine.
After readying myself for the day, I left to go roam the campus. The sidewalks were scattered with a bunch of other students attentively strolling around, probably with the same intent as me.
According to the campus map, the dining hall was on the opposite end of my dormitory. It'd be beneficial only if I intended on walking across campus for food. My best option was to get it from the Burt's Breakfast & Burgers—a food joint way closer than the dining hall.
Most of my morning was spent strategically planning the best route from my dorm to each of my classes. I made a miniature map of my own with all the surrounding areas, noting every place in a mile radius of my dorm, compared it to the distance between all my lectures to make sure I'd never be late. Planning was something I could always count on. I was good at it and I knew I would never mess up once I had everything chronologically written into place and had a chance to get used to this new routine. The day seemed to completely evaporate underneath me and I realized I hadn't even talked to my Dad.
"Dad?"
"Hey, champ," he says, sounding more down than I think he wanted to. "How's it going?"
"It's going great so far. My roommate and I seem to be getting along well. I start my first lesson in two hours and figured I give you a call. I kinda missed you already. You taken care of yourself old man? I know it's only been a day or whatever, but I know you dad. You're probably still in your bathrobe moping around the house."
The line stayed silent for a moment. Dad would never admit to it, but he was strictly a family man now. Marriage and children pulled him from a world of drugs, booze, and motorcycles. His whole life revolved around the sole fact of us being okay, and without us he wasn't himself. But I guess life was meant to abnormal without the people you spent your life dedicated to protecting.
"Actually, I just took it off for your information," he chuckles.
It brought me back to how easy it was for mom to snap dad out of his bouts of sadness after she told us the truth about how sick she was. Everything was perfect when she was around and if they weren't, it was her personal mission to fix them.
Family is messy, always has been and always will be, but mom had a knack for upholding appearance so we'd never look like what we'd been through.
She told me one time that presentation was key. No matter how things looked on the outside, the inside was where the real story resided. She made sure that we were the happiest kids she'd known, so when depression fell on me, she did everything in her power to drive it away. Our family had our numerous ups and downs, but we always came back on top of them—except for the loss of her. While Chris and I spent our time grieving alongside each other, Dad found the bottom of a bottle, or emptying himself at work to balance medical bills and college tuitions.
After mom died, his spark slowly disappeared. Our mother kept her illness to herself for a long time, even getting her to admit it to us took years.
She had an unshakable perspective of burdening anyone with her issues and part of me assumed she knew how hard it would affect dad, so she kept it quiet. She bought wigs to hide the chunks of hair she'd lose and makeup to cover up the frailties of her skin. When news had gotten out about her "sudden" death, I suppose it was easy to assume the ex bike club leader played a part in it.
Dad was obviously acquitted of all charges and speculation, though he never fully recovered from the backlash.
"I can't say I've missed the days of a silent house. It beats the hell out of me, but I keep waiting to hear the sound of you and your brother arguing," he scoffs out a laugh. "Speaking of which, how's your brother? He settling in okay?"
"I was just going to stop by his dorm to check on him. I've been busy figuring out the best routes around this place. You make anything for dinner last night?"
"Microwaved one of those frozen dinners your mother hated. It was late when I got back. That drive is still kicking my ass—sorry, my behind."
"Dad, take care of yourself. I don't want you falling off of the hinges while we're away," I pause. "Promise me you'll try."
Dad sighs again and holds the silence in his favor for a moment.
"I'm supposed to be the one giving you this speech," he says. "But I will. Say hi to Chris for me why don't you."
"Of course."
.
No one answered the door at Christian's dorm so instead I spent the rest of my time in the lounge scanning over the assignment our professor emailed us two days in advance until seven approached.
By the time I arrived to the lecture, most of the seats were taken. Everyone must've had the same intention. I scattered to an empty seat near the top row and quietly unpacked all of my supplies.
It was refreshing seeing so many unfamiliar faces. Growing up in a small town with the same people from birth grew old, quick.
"Freshman?" the guy beside me chimes.
A defeated laugh finds it way from my lips. "What gave it away?"
He motions to the stationary crowding my desk. "Over preparation. You'll need your iPad. Maybe a notebook and pen, but that's about it. I'm Terrance."
"Thanks for the tip. I'm Alex," I reply, shoving everything but my iPad into my backpack. "What year are you?"
"Senior. Finally."
Terrance and I talk a while longer. He even offers to show me the hot spots around campus sometime which I obviously couldn't pass on.
"Sorry about that," A voice sounds from the front of the room. I'd been too busy with my conversation with Terrance to notice the professor entering the class. "My daughter recently learned how to FaceTime, now she calls every second of everyday day. It's kind of cute actually," he says with a chuckle, earning him a few laughs from other students in the class. He powers off his computer before shutting the classroom door and made his way back to the front of the class.
"'Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living. It's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope.' Who said this?" He questioned, finally putting his full attention towards the class.
He was handsome and looked young enough to be in his late twenties. And suddenly it was obvious why his class was filled with mostly female.
"You?" He said, pointing to a boy sitting in the second row. The rest of the class remains silent until he called out an answer.
"Shakespeare?"
"Wrong. I expected you to know that, Darren," he said, turning to look at the rest of us. "Does anyone else know?"
I wanted to call it out, but the churning in my stomach made me mute. The professor paces in front of class, waiting for someone else to take a whack at the answer but silence holds the room.
Terrance nudges my arm, signaling to the girl in the row below us as she typed the quote into Google. Terrance shakes his head, slowly sinking into his chair to avoid being called on.
"Seeing how no one has the answer," he trails, making his way over the chalkboard. "The correct answer is D—"
"Dr. Seuss," I interrupt, before swallowing my self doubt and straightening myself in my seat. A couple of people turned to look at me for a second, even he had done the same, unsure of who had said it, so his eyes roamed the class before he set the piece of chalk down, without finishing it on the board.
"Who said that?" He called out, with an amused smirk on his lips.
I smiled and stuck my hand up to announce my presence.
He finally looked at me for the first time since the lecture began and nodded pleasantly. "What's your name?" He questions, slowly approaching my seat.
"Alexandrea."
"Last name please," he clarifies. My eyes followed him the closer he got to my seat. "We address each other only by last name in this class."
"Castillo."
A tsk slips from his teeth gritted together and he finally stops once he approaches my desk.
"Ms. Castillo, are you sure?"
I inwardly sighed, doubt slowly beginning to creep out. His tone was convincing enough for me to second guess my answer for a second, though I stood strong on my answer.
"It was Seuss...Professor."
"Right, Forgive me for not properly introducing myself. I'm Professor Thornton, and this is Advanced Comparative Literature," he says with a smile before turning to walk away. "Speak up next time. You're one of the only students that's gotten it at all today."
Once the attention in the room shifted from me, the girl in front of me turned around, a look of disgust plaguing her face before rolling her eyes and putting her focus back on professor Thornton, who had just begin to start the lesson more in depth.
"Nice job, freshman," Terrance whispers.
When the lecture concluded, Professor Thornton assigned a two thousand word essay that must be presented to the class explaining how literature has effected the world.
I watch hastily as the class empties, wrestling the thought of asking if I could take on extra work to avoid presenting in front of the class. That was my first intention, though the new and improved me wouldn't allow it.
"Can I speak with you?" Professor Thornton says, clicking his computer back on.
His voice startled me at first and I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or to his computer on FaceTime with his daughter, so I kept quiet and shoved my iPad in my backpack waiting to see if he'd address me personally.
"Castillo," he says, putting his attention on me. "Nice work today."
I cleared my throat to fan away the awkwardness and grabbed my bag, making my way down the stairs to stand closer to him. His cologne lingering in the air surrounding his desk.
"It was nothing."
"You're wrong. It's a common misconception to assume Shakespeare when students think of an advanced literature class. Words don't have to be written by Shakespeare to be considered advance," he pauses. "Truth is, I was expecting no one to get it."
"Well, I like to think I took this class for a reason," I smiled.
I clutched the straps of my backpack to alleviate the dampness building on my palms. Professor Thornton eyes me for a second longer until shifting his focus back to his computer.
"'Everybody is a genius but if you judge a fish on its ability to climb a tree, it will live it's whole life believing it is dumb.'"
"Einstein. My mother worked as an English Lit teacher. She taught me well," I said.
"It'll be a pleasure to teach you then," he nods, finally cracking a half smile.
After class, I picked up a coffee and headed to my dorm. Advanced Comparative Literature was the only class I had on Tuesday, but I had Professor Thornton again for a Fiction Writing on Wednesday. My classes were all cramped together on Thursday so I knew this momentary feeling of freedom would disappear in a day and a half.
Taylor was home and the boxes of things she hadn't finished unpacking last night we're gone.
"Hey," I say, setting my things down on the floor beside my bed. I figured it'd be worse not saying anything. Taylor was busy typing something on her laptop, but once she finished, she shut it closed and pushed it to the side.
"Hey, how was it? Was the teacher old and mean like how they make them on tv?"
I smiled and took a sip of my coffee, trying to kick my shoes off as well.
"It was pretty great. He was actually really nice and attractive," I let out a breathy laugh. "Which I probably shouldn't be saying. He seems like a very good teacher. I'm excited to learn from him."
She smiled at me and stood up from her bed to walk over to the mini fridge in our dorm (which we weren't supposed to have but we decided to get it anyways because the dining hall was so far away).
Taylor had only been wearing a shirt short enough to stop and her waist and boy shorts underwear. This was completely new to me and once I caught myself staring I looked away quickly after.
She reached into the fridge and pulled out a container of grapes and sat next to me on my bed, opening the container and putting it in the middle of us. We both agreed to stock the fridge every other week, and I guess she picked this one.
"Was it Thornton?" She asked, popping a grape in her mouth.
"How'd you know?" I asked, doing the same.
She laughed and picked up another grape. "We're family. Well, if you'd still consider us being family. He was married to my sister. He and I are still close though, I just don't trust her with him. She really did a number on him," she ended. I shook my head and peeled the skin off my grape with my teeth as I looked at her.
"Close?"
"Like family. We're just close."
I nod my head and bit my tongue to refrain from asking anymore questions. She ate a couple more grapes before putting the container back in the fridge.
"But hey, there's a party tonight at one of the fraternities. It's going to be mainly juniors and seniors, but I could definitely get us in if you'd like to go. How cliché, I know," she dragged on, rolling her eyes. "But sororities aren't really allowed to have parties on campus or else we'd go to one of those. It's pretty sexist if you ask me, but a party is a party."
"You have a party invitation already?" I laughed, finishing the rest of my coffee and the skinless grape. "You must be well connected."
"My sister. She's the one with the connections. It's supposed to be this super low key welcoming back party. She also said 'low key' college parties don't exist. Let's just say she basically uses her party invites as excuses for her doing something nice for me. Sort of her way of paying me to get Trevor to take her back." She rolls her eyes.
"Your sister sounds a lot like my older brother," I scoffed, and she laughs.
As the night faded away, so did our conversations. We didn't know each other well enough to hold conversations longer than a few minutes and that was okay. We spent the silence making sure everything or at least a part of something was finished before deciding if attending a party was a good idea.
In all actuality, both of us were equally as nervous and excited about going to a frat party that neither of us were going to pass on the opportunity.
I thought about Shaylynn and how it would be an awesome way for the three of us to start a friendship and suggested we invite her, which Taylor was actually really cool about.
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