~Five months later~
~Eleanor~
This morning, I woke up at five am when Ben's alarm went off. I still haven't gotten used to the sound enough to be able to block it from my mind, so, almost every day since we've been here, I woke up at the same time as him. He gave me a kiss, told me to go back to sleep, got up, and left. I heard the front door close ten minutes later. He forgot. Of course, he forgot. Today is the last day of his training camp with the Spitfires. Today, the coach announces the trios for the first few games. My first day of college must have slipped his mind, I get it, it's nothing compared to the stress he has to endure today.
No matter how hard I tried, I could not do as I was told and go back to sleep. I stayed in bed, my eyes wide open, fixing the ceiling until six-thirty. I turned off my own alarm that was set to go off at seven-thirty. I couldn't bear it anymore. I had to get out of bed, or I think I would've combusted from all the stress. Ben would have come home only to find my heart who would have busted out of my chest. Even if I showered last night, I hopped into the shower, the warm water relaxing my tensed muscles. I must have stayed in there for half an hour without doing anything. I just stood under the warm boiling water thinking about all the ways today could go wrong. What if I was late because I couldn't find my classroom? What if I humiliated myself enough on the first day that no one would ever want to be my friend? To calm myself down a little bit, I repeated my itinerary in my head over and over in my head. "You take the eight forty-five bus down the street. I get off at Wyandotte and Sunset. I walk 300 meters, 100 straight ahead and the 200 meters left, I turn right. I will be in the university's front yard. My first class is in Chrysler Hall, on the second floor. I need the books that I already placed in my bag last night. My teacher is Mister Donovan, he teaches Introduction to American Literature. It's going to be okay, El. Everything will be just fine. You'll make tons of friends, you're not the only one who comes from another province. You're not the only one who is alone." I repeat the last few sentences more often before deciding to get out of the shower. It's the first time in my entire life that I am completely alone. I knew Olive before we started kindergarten. Our parents have been friends since they were in high school, so I already had a best friend picked out from me way before I was born. If I decided to do an extracurricular activity, it was always with her. At the beginning, we would go to hockey games together because I was too shy to go by myself. For the first time, I will go to school and she won't be with me. I won't meet her for lunch in the cafeteria, I won't see her in math class third period. I'll be lucky if I have lunch with someone else today or if I meet people I could become friends with. On any other day, I would have called Ben, but today, I can't. The coach makes them leave their phones in the locker-room. They can't even go get them for lunch since it ruins the team spirit. I'll have to deal with it on my own.
I made myself my favorite breakfast, oatmeal with toasts. My mother used to make this for me when I was little. It always comforted me in times of stress, but I can't take more than two bites before realizing that I am way too stressed out to eat anything. I still make coffee to go, you never know. I read a book once where the main character becomes friends with someone just because they drink their coffee the same way. If I am lucky, I'll meet a girl who likes mochaccinos and puts two sugars in her regular coffee.
I am twenty minutes early at the bus stop, good thing it's not too cold outside. Apart from me, there is only a woman who seems to be waiting for the same bus as me. There is plenty of room on the bench next to her, but I stay up. I am afraid that, if I sit down, she will notice the shaking in my legs that I cannot control, nor stop. As the clock moves forward, more people arrive at the bus stop. Some look my age, so I assume that they are going to the university. Most of them are boys, I don't know why I noticed this, but I did. Apart from me and the older woman, there is only another girl at the bus stop. She is wearing black leather pants and what looks like a band t-shirt with holes in it. Her bottom lip is pierced, and her black hair looks too dark compared to her pale skin. I look at my flowery skirt that stops just above my knee, my black round-collar t-shirt, and my jean jacket and I hope that people at Windsor University do not all dress like that girl. In high school, we had a dress code. If she had showed up dressed like that, the teachers would have sent her home in a second. In university, there are no more codes. Everyone dresses as they please, acts the way they want. Everyone gets to be themselves. I have yet to decide if I think that it's a good or a bad thing.
The bus is packed, the arm besides mine belongs to a fat old man with white hair. I am pressed against the window. The glass is as cold as ice even if it's pretty warm outside. I try to focus on the robotic voice calling the stops' names. Wyandotte and Goyeau, Wyandotte and Victoria, Wyandotte and Bruce, Wyandotte and Randolph, and finally, Wyandotte and Sunset. I sincerely wonder who Wyandotte was. Was he some famous Windsor citizen? Or an artist? He has a street in his honor, he is probably an important person in the history of this town. Was he even a person? I keep thinking about this Wyandotte mystery to keep myself from stressing about what is in front of me. I look up to see a big old building. From afar, I might have mixed it up with a church. The pointy roof is mint green. Around the front door, there is a prominent white structure. The rest of the building is covered with red bricks. Close to the door, there are students wearing a blue polo with the university logo. I walk up to one and she points me in the right direction. I get to class ten minutes in advance. There are only two girls sitting in the front row. I give them a small smile as I enter the room. I decide to sit in the row behind them, not too close, but not too far either. I take out the campus map the student gave me earlier to try and plan my route for my next class which is directly after this one. I stay focused on my map until a voice startles me.
"You're not from here, are you?" I look up from my map. One of the two girls is looking at me. She has a kind smile. Her blue eyes hide behind big retro glasses. She has red curly hair and a ton of freckles on her cheeks that give her a mischievous look.
"It's that obvious?" I try to sound as calm as possible, but I can feel my voice shaking. If I play my cards right, this girl could become my friend. I even add a laugh at the end of my sentence.
"Most people who grew up here know their way around campus. A lot of extracurricular activities are located here, so I spent my childhood learning my way around here. Give me that map, I'll show you where the good stuff is." I hand her the piece of paper while trying to hide the shaking of my hands. As she starts talking, the other girl turns around as well. She is the polar opposite of her friend. Her jet-black hair and eyes look harder than her friends'. Her hair is straight, and it looks like it falls way below her shoulders.
"Viv do not start that, you promised we would keep the good spots for us." Viv, that's a nickname you don't hear often. Opposed to her friend's friendly voice, hers sound pretentious, fake even, like she takes an accent that is estranged to her. She speaks as if she was in a language contest, no contractions or abbreviations. It sounds weird in the mouth of an eighteen-year-old girl.
"Look at her, she looks like she needs a friend, doesn't she?" She points at me, and I smile at the other girl, waving my hand. Why did I do that? They'll think I am a freak now! Congratulation, El. "I am Vivienne, but everyone calls me Viv and that's Blair." She points to the black-haired girl. Blair? Where have I heard this name before?
"Blair like in Gossip Girl?" The redheaded girl points her friend and laughs loudly. Vivienne says that they betted someone would say that on the first day. Vivienne betted for and Blair against.
"And just like Blair Waldorf, she is a judgmental bitch." They both laugh, but I don't know how to react. I barely know these girls, is it acceptable for me to endorse what she just said? When they are done laughing, they ask for my name.
"Eleanor, but you can call me El or Ella, that's what everybody calls me." The first person to ever call me El was Ben. Before him, people called me Eleanor or Ella. At first, he was even upset when other people picked up the nickname, but he got used to it, just like I got used to people calling Ben instead of Benji.
"And where are you from Eleanor?" Blair really has a superior tone when she speaks. It's a little annoying. She looks at you as if she was part of some royal family, so you should bow or something when you see her.
"South Victoria, BC." Vivienne's eyes go wide.
"That's pretty far away. Did you move here just for college?" At first, I was going to tell them the truth. What reason do I have to lie? I have nothing to be ashamed of. But then, I remember what Vivienne said about Blair. How would a judgmental bitch react if I were to tell her that I moved here to live in a two-room apartment with my high school drop-out boyfriend? It probably wouldn't be the best way to start a friendship. Anyway, what are the chances that they even meet? Plus, it would be kind of nice to have friends who aren't related to hockey.
"No, my boyfriend lives here. He moved last year." That is a half-truth. Ben does live here, but he moved last month not last year. Fortunately, they stop asking questions when the teacher walks in the class. Mister Donovan is a fifty-year-old man. In his life, he published three books: a suspense novel, a collection of short-stories and one of poems. His class seems to be really interesting. We will read many classics like Emmaby Jane Austen, Wuthering Heightsby Emily Brontë and To Kill a Mockingbirdto name a few. Even if I have read them all, I can't wait to discuss those books with people who are as passionate as me about literature. Discussing books in high school is so boring, no one really has an opinion since most of the students only read the Wikipedia page that was dedicated to the book. At eleven thirty, we are dismissed. I pack my stuff. I have ten minutes before my next class and I have no idea where it is. I notice that Blair and Vivienne are still in the classroom. I walk up to them.
"By any means, do you guys have Poetry I with Sarah Smith next?" Vivienne shakes her head, but Blair nods.
"Let's meet for lunch," Vivienne says with an excited tone. She points her friend. "Blair be nice." Vivienne gives her friend a kiss on the cheek before walking away.
***
I end up spending the rest of the day with Blair and Vivienne. After lunch, we all had our writers' group meeting. They even walked me to my bus stop at the end of the day. I am a lot more relaxed on the way home than I was this morning. I think I managed to make friends, even if it's only the first day. For the first time today, when the words "I'll be fine" cross my mind, I believe them.
The apartment is empty when I unlock the door. Everything is exactly as I left it. The toaster is still on the counter, the TV remote is beside my placemat, the coffeemaker is still in the sink, unwashed. I had hoped that Ben would be back by now. I thought about all the things I wanted to say to him about my first day. I am not used to coming home to an empty house. Usually, my mother would be back from work before I got back from school and I would tell her everything worth sharing that happened during the day and she would do the same. I suddenly feel lonely for the first time since we moved, the kind of lonely where you feel apart from everybody else. It's like my life is separated from everybody else's. I wish I could talk to somebody right now, anybody would be perfect. I'd even talk to a cat if that was my only option. I feel oppressed by the silent in the apartment, like the absence of sound keeps me from breathing properly. The only thing that calms me is turning the TV on. I leave it on some cooking channel while I clean the kitchen. I wash the coffeemaker, put the toaster back in its cabinet and, when everything is how it should be, I sigh. I look around me and, as much as I wish I felt otherwise, this place doesn't feel like home. It feels like someone else's apartment with someone else's furniture. I look at myself in the bathroom mirror and it doesn't look like me. I am staring at a stranger and I know that the only way for this girl to look like me again is to be with Ben. This is supposed to be our place, but I spent twice the amount of time here he has even if he moved two weeks before me. I pick up my phone from the kitchen counter and dial his number. It's six thirty now, practice should be over. He picks up at the second ring.
"Hey baby! What's up?" There is music in the background. Wherever he is, it's not an arena. The thought angers me. We should be spending time together right now.
"Not much, where are you?" I hear him speak to the people he is with, I hear a door closing and the music stops. He probably went outside.
"I'm at a restaurant with the other guys from the first trio. We are celebrating, so don't wait for me to have dinner." I know what he's doing. He is casually adding his announcement in the conversation to make me feel cheap for not asking.
"You made it on the first trio, Ben! That's amazing, congratulations! I'm so happy for you." And I am, of course, I am. Being on the first trio is a huge accomplishment not given often to new players. It also means that he'll get more ice time, which is always good when you want to get noticed by recruiters.
"Thank you. I am so happy, you don't know how much. I can feel it, baby, it's going to be a great year." I laugh because a short while ago, I would have agreed instantly, but the feeling I had walking into our apartment made me reconsider.
"When are you coming home? I'd like to talk to you before bed." There is a pause before he speaks again. I can see him in my mind, he is biting on the skin of his thumb while looking at his new friends trying to calculate the acceptable hour to leave. He might even comb his hair with his hand. The image is so clear, I can't help but laugh. Why am I incapable of recognizing myself, but I would be able to name every single detail of his face even if I can't see him?
"Not late, I promise. Listen, El, I have to go the food just arrived. I love you." I repeat the words and we hang up. I feel the silent again. The oppressing silent that reminds me of how real this is. It's not just a dream or a fantasy anymore, it's my life. I live in Windsor; Ontario and I have never felt as alone as I do now in my entire life.
According to my good friend Google, it takes 21 days to get used to a new and unfamiliar setting, so that means that I have only twenty days to go until this feels normal, until I recognize the girl in the mirror.
At nine thirty, I crash into our bed. Even if I wanted to continue watching pointless TV shows, I would just end up falling asleep on the couch. I waited as long as I could. I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillows. I don't bother choosing a side, he'll just push me on one when he comes home.
***
100 reads!! Thank you so much 😘 ps: anyone a Gossip Girl fan? 😉