I left Cookies and Crafts with less faith in humanity than ever. The one silver lining in the situation was that I at least had a plateful of pink frosted cookies to take back to my room, to boost my spirits. And my weight. But we'd worry about that later.
"Nice paper pants," Nigel complimented, nodding at the origami paper I had clutched in my other hand.
I scowled. "It's an elephant."
"Oh...uh, that's what I meant."
"Well, at least you managed to finish something," Chris grumbled. He hung slightly behind Nigel but in front of Patrick and the two Indian boys (Parth and Aditya, I'd learned their names were) as we made our way back up to the third floor. Knitting, it turned out, was not one of Chris's strong suits. The 'scarf' he'd been working on turned out to be more like a giant, tangled ball of yarn.
Mandy and Sidika had already headed up to their rooms early. I'd stayed behind, working feverishly to get my origami elephant to stop looking like an origami distaste. The cookie lady practically had to boot us out of the dining hall, Patrick included. Guess his RA privileges didn't extend to university-sponsored midnight cookie mini-binges.
"You guys're welcome to chill with me if you want to talk through some things," the RA suggested as he stopped in front of his room. "My door is open. Always."
We nodded, but none of us took him up on the offer. I didn't know about anyone else, but just thinking about the nameplate incident was bringing me a throbbing headache. I just wanted to go to bed. Drift off to sleep. Forget about the horrible events of today.
I swiped into my room and turned around to close the door--only to come face-to-face with Chris and Nigel, who had followed me all the way to my room. "Uh," I said, not exactly nicely, "can I help you?"
Chris avoided eye contact with me, gazing down at his feet with his eyebrows drawn together. As if he was still lost in thought, mulling over the conversation we'd had with Patrick and some of our hallmates. Nigel, though, craned his neck to peer over my shoulder and into the room. "Your roommate. She's okay, right?" He bit his lip.
"She's sleeping." Although how Nigel had managed not to notice, I had no idea. Olivia's deafening snores were carrying right through the door. "Do you want something from her? I feel like you've been asking about her a lot."
Nigel swallowed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Just...just checking up on her. Making sure she's good and all."
"She's an international student new to the states. Not a headless chicken." I couldn't stop the words before they tumbled out of my mouth, but I regretted them the instant they did, especially when Nigel's eyes widened and he backed away.
"Hey, what's your problem?" Chris demanded. "Nigel's just being a good hallmate."
I shook my head, swallowing hard. I was misdirecting my anger. "I'm sorry. It's just, Olivia's been through a lot today. Everyone has. And I'm kind of on the edge right now." Turning toward Nigel, I said, "I appreciate you looking out for her." Even if I didn't quite understand why. "I'll let her know you came around when she wakes up."
He shook his head quickly. "Nah, that's alright."
"You sure? It really wouldn't be--"
"Seriously, it's fine." With that, Nigel began backing away, down the hall. Chris followed him, once again pointedly not looking at me. "Good night, Amelia."
"Good night." I closed the door and flopped into my chair. No way was I getting any sleep tonight. I was wide awake, my mind whirling with all the events that had transpired. Struggling to comprehend what had happened.
Olivia murmured something unintelligible in her sleep and turned over. As I listened to the slow, steady rumble of her snores, mind still not shutting down, I realized there was something I had to take care of.
I pulled out a laptop and typed up an email to Parker Jeong from the Dance Sensasians. I'm doing the right thing, I told myself as my finger hovered over the 'Send' button. I squeeze my eyes shut and pressed down.
*****
The next morning, I awoke to the peaceful sounds of the sky crashing down on me. Clashing and clanging its way to the floor. I peeled open my eyes to greet the end of the world, and my blurry morning vision showed me a frantic Olivia. Leaning over me and invading my personal space. Banging actual pots and pans in front of my nose. We didn't even have a kitchen. When had she gotten ahold of those?
"Hurry up!" she shouted once she saw I was awake.
"What's going on?"
"'You sleep through alarm. You are going to be late for class."
"Huh?" I mumbled. My eyes finally adjusted to the world, and I checked the time on my phone. Eight fifty. That woke me up in a flash. "Eight fifty?" I shrieked. I'd have to pull off the fastest miracle of my life to get to my nine A.M. biology discussion on time. Maybe I'd just call it quits and sleep through my first discussion section.
As if sensing my thoughts, my cousin frowned and banged the pot and pan together again, right into my ear drum.
"Ow!"
"No time to be moping, Amelia. Today is important day for class. The university president-man send email. Teachers are going to talk about what happen yesterday."
"What happened yesterday?"
"How you forget already?" The look that spread over my cousin's face was one of mortal offense. "The nameplates? They call us terrorist?"
Reality came rushing back to me like a tsunami. So ferociously that I felt my head being knocked back onto my pillow. Except right before it did, Olivia grabbed me around the neck and propped me back up into a sitting position. "Oh, no. No more sleepy-time. Get up!"
With a sigh, I threw on the first clothes I saw--a winning combination of an old neon green math camp T-shirt and navy blue joggers--and bolted out the door, running a comb through my hair. My mind whirled with the information Olivia had just unloaded on me. No way was I going to miss class. Our teachers were going to discuss what had happened at West Tower last night, and I definitely had something to say about it.
I hadn't really known what response to expect when I turned down my acceptance into Dance Sensasians. Maybe, at most, an email wishing me luck on whatever dance team I did join. Little did they know that I'd be joining no dance team at all.
What I didn't expect was to rush down the stairs of West Tower, panicked that I was late to my first biology discussion, to find my path blocked by none other than K-pop Hair. At the sight of him in a blue windbreaker and black skinny jeans (seriously, had the guy stepped right out of a Korean drama?), scowling at me, I almost dropped the textbooks in my hand into a pile of mud.
"You. Glasses."
"Did you stalk me?" I demanded, heart pounding madly.
"You gave us your address in your application."
"So you stalked me!" I accused.
He shot me an annoyed look. "I prefer to consider it checking up on a friend."
"Friend? We aren't friends," I spluttered. "And--and I didn't tell you my class schedule. How'd you know I'd be out here right now?" My eyes flickered over the dark bags under K-pop Hair's eyes. Either a sign of tiredness or badly smeared guyliner. Tiredness, he confirmed for me with a stifled yawn. "Hold on," I said slowly. "Did you wait out here all night for me?"
"Didn't really leave me with any other choice, did you?" Kpop Hair sounded disgruntled, as if I'd asked him to pull an all-nighter for me.
"Couldn't you have, like, given me a call? I thought I wrote down my number on that sheet."
"Would you have picked up?" K-pop Hair said flatly.
I stared at him with a defiant expression on my face. Then let my shoulders slump when I realized he was right. "I would have hung up on you in a heartbeat," I admitted.
"That's what I thought." Kpop Hair extended a long, lean arm out toward me, forcing my limp hand into a handshake. "Parker Jeong, by the way. President of the Dance Sensasians. Nice to formally meet you, Amelia Xu. Now, can you do me the small favor of not turning down your acceptance into our group?"
I blinked at K-pop Hair--Parker. He stared back at me with a serious expression on his face. "I can't do that. I already made my choice."
"But why? Just give me a reason. Did you choose another group?"
"No," I admitted. "I didn't audition for any others."
"So why...?"
"I just...there's a lot I want to get involved in," I said, shooting off the first excuse that came to mind. "Like, maybe a social justice org. I mean, you heard about what happened here last night, didn't you?" Although I hadn't really been considering the idea before, suddenly I felt myself being convinced by my own words. Maybe I would join a social justice org. Or even start one. 'Students Against the Closeted Racists in West Tower', maybe.
Parker blocked my attempt to sidestep him by planting himself firmly in front of me. "We're super involved in social justice issues on campus," he insisted.
"Really?"
He bobbed his head up and down. Face drawn and solemn. "Yeah. We've coordinated multicultural dances and things like that. And we get gig requests for fundraisers and awareness events all the time."
At Parker's words, two thoughts raced through my head: dancing for a cause sounded like something I couldn't turn down, and I was definitely going to be late for my nine A.M. discussion.
"You don't have to give an official answer yet," Parker said, relenting a little. "The deadline's in a week. At least check out a rehearsal before then."
That didn't sound too bad. "Okay," I said hesitantly. "Just one."
He visibly relaxed, letting out a sigh. "Great. You won't regret it."
*****
A/N - What do you guys think of Parker? I like him lol dude is seriously dedicated to his dance team xD But then again I'm kinda biased!! Haha
This was a shorter upload so expect the next part probably within 2 days. Thanks for reading, and please consider leaving a comment/vote if you enjoy. Your feedback means the world! :)