Laila Kincaid
It would be easy to start out my story by saying that I came from humble beginnings because all superheroes have those types of beginnings — except for Batman. It would be even easier for me to say that I was born into the perfect family. I had a dog, a cat with one life left, and both of my parents happily married after being together for more than twenty years.
But I don't want to start at my beginning, so I won't. I'll start eighteen years after the day I graced the universe with my exceptional personality and almost illegal good looks. Let's get started, shall we?
* * *
"Don't forget to call us before you go to bed, Laila. You know your mother likes to worry," My dad whispered after kissing my forehead and wrapping his arms around me.
Leona, my mother, stood off to the side of my dorm room wiping her tears with a crumpled napkin Avery pulled from his pocket. From the comfort of my dad's arms, I watched as my older brother rubbed her back while making a teasing face at me. My mother cried only five times during the road trip here and Avery dozed off at the wheel only once.
I would miss this. The comfort my parents never failed to give me, the constant reassurance of love and support, and the endless amount of forehead kisses from my dad. I would have to go four years without hearing Avery sing off-key in the shower and bragging about his fiancé to ears that would listen. Four years without seeing my parents cuddled up in the living room watching Wheel of Fortune and shouting the answers as though Pat could actually hear them. Four long years without walking down the cracked sidewalks of St. Louis, running through the halls of the old Hawthorne Heights building, and playing tag on the decrepit basketball court.
I would miss this, but I needed to leave it all behind for the time being and grow accustomed to the pale blue walls of my dorm room. Blue is such an ugly color. And sadly, it was the school's color. Hawthorne University planted large blue flowers all around the large campus, blue and white tiles lead the way to the endless amount of classrooms, and they decided to paint every single dorm room with the same pale blue that I despised. I would have to spend four years surrounded by the color.
My words were tinged with a bittersweet happiness when I whispered back, "Please make sure mama doesn't wear the clothes that I left behind. Take them to the homeless shelter tomorrow morning cause I saw her staring at my sweater."
"Give me one good reason why I can't wear that sweater, little girl," my mom argued, forgetting her sadness. "As a matter of fact, I bought that sweater for you. So technically it's mine. Now hurry up and give me my hug so we can burn out. These kids stink."
I lifted up my index finger and decided against entertaining her, so instead I left my dad's arms to nestle myself into my mom's embrace. She smelled like caramel hot chocolate, something that Avery's friend always called 'a delicacy.' Her hands rubbed my back and the cool metal from her ring seeped through my thin top.
She murmured in my ear, "You stay safe, Laila X. You already know we're just a hop, skip, and a jump away from you."
And by that, she meant six hours, thirty minutes, and fifteen seconds south of my new home.
She released me from her hug and I found myself wrapping my arms around my torso and squeezing tight to make up for the loss. My parents left the room, leaving me alone with my older brother, Avery. Instead of hugging me and whispering reassuring words like our parents, he grabbed a box from behind his back and placed it on my black desk.
"Okay, look, you're smart so I don't need to give you the rundown on anything cause you already know what's up. Do your work, don't get caught up in any trouble, and have some fun," He told me. "But, I have ears all over this school, so don't do anything you don't want me or mama knowing about."
I rolled my eyes and pushed him out of the room, but before I could close the door in his face, he stopped it by placing his foot in the crack.
He gazed down at me between the crack of the door and begged, "Don't lose yourself, Laila. And open my gift as soon as possible cause it might die."
"What?"
Avery slid his foot from the door and ran down the hall to catch up with our parents. I inhaled a shaky breath and closed the door.
I was finally alone and I didn't like the feeling.
I ran over to my desk and lifted the lid from the box, shrieking unintelligible words when I saw what Avery placed inside. A fish. Yellow and sea-green stripes decorated his body and blurred on his tail-fin as he swam around in rapid circles around the bowl.
I pulled the bowl from the box and placed it on my bedside table when the sound of the electronic lock on the door clicked. My back sprang straight when I heard a new voice announce itself in the room.
"This is dorm room #234, right? You're Laila Kincaid?" The girl's words tumbled over themselves as I tried to decipher what she said through her light accent. "I'm Destinee Malik — your roommate."
Tendrils of the girl's wavy black hair spilled out of a messy bun and framed her smooth, mahogany-colored face. Dark brown eyes and a shy smile greeted me. Pretty was an understatement for Destinee. Her arms were filled with tattered textbooks and a container overflowing with hair products. The girl resembled warmth and tranquility, if that were even possible.
I blinked several times at her, trying to describe her in a way that didn't come off as weird. She didn't have skin the color of dark chocolate, mocha, or any other chocolate candy. She looked like warmth and put a sweet taste in my mouth.
I stammered, "Oh, hey, hey, yeah, I'm Laila. I hope you don't mind that I already chose my bed. So, who exactly are you? And yes, I'm looking for the whole cliché poetic answer."
"I'm Destinee Malik, a lowkey wannabe fashion designer from Detroit" She snorted. "I don't really know how to sew clothes without patterns though...so that's a struggle."
For the two hours that passed, Destinee and I organized our dorm room and talked about anything that we could possibly think of. She planned on majoring in Fashion Design and I told her that I was undeclared at the moment. She liked movies and hated her brother's girlfriend, I liked sleeping in and loved my brother's fiancé. Destinee liked girls and I barely even liked people. She was my polar opposite and yet we became quick friends.
I went to sleep that night staring at my fish swimming around in circles around his bowl. Destinee's loud snores echoed off of the thin walls of the room and caused for my twin-sized bed to shake. I smothered my face with the pillow and hoped that tomorrow led to different heights. Pray for me.
* * *
President's Message: Oooookay! So this was chapter one of Different Heights. I wanted to approach the story differently and introduce Laila in a new way. I wanted this book to carry the same elements of Hawthorne Heights, yet also bring a spin on it with Laila's personality and voice.
If you enjoyed this chapter, please make sure to vote and comment! Don't let Laila's story flop, please! And with that, thank you so much for reading this update and be sure to look out for the next.
— Mai, President of Hawthorne University :)