Chapter 15

Elena

  “I can’t believe summer is over,” Rachel whines in my ear through the phone while I unpack a picture frame of Viper and me.

            “Oh, I know! In a blink of an eye, it all just disappeared.” I place the frame on the nightside table and sit on my freshly made bed of this dorm room.

            “Did you and Viper have fun on your trip out west?” Rachel’s voice is nearly buried under the sounds of other excited college students that must surround her.

            My father and I took a trip together thinking that it would be a nice bonding experience, and it was. He really is a good man, plus I needed to get away from Ludowici for a bit.

            The feeling of being watched has stopped.  I haven’t felt it since the night I ventured inside the church, wondering who kept turning on the light.  

            There are mixed feelings about it; I’m relieved and, at the same time, I feel like a guardian angel just gave up on me.

            Weird, right? I wanted the gifts to stop because I didn’t want anyone to get their hopes up, but the watching never really bothered me too much. “It was great! We saw buffalo, a whole building made out of corn –“

            “I’m sorry, what?”

            Laughter bubbles out. “Corn. A building made from corn, like, the whole thing! It was huge.”

            “Wow.”

            “We saw Mount Rushmore, a rodeo, and went white water rafting down the Shoshone River. It smelt like rotten eggs.” My nose scrunches at the memory of the unsavory smell. “But it was a great trip – I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

            “Oh, I’m so glad that you’ve had a calm summer – you needed those happier memories.”

            She’s not wrong. I’ve been hiding a lot of pain and anxiety. During the whole summer, I’ve been telling myself to just take one day at a time. Breathe in and out. Whenever I’m about to burst into tears, I count to ten.

            Most of the time, it has helped. School starting is a blessing because it will give my mind something else to focus on other than how broken I feel over the loss of the man who raised me - Elijah, and Mike.

            Mike.

            My sights zero in on his leather jacket hanging over the chair at my desk. I brought it with me. The thing weighs about five, maybe eight pounds, it swims on me; I can’t wear it. So why did I bring it?

            It still smells like him and I may or may not cuddle with it when I miss him…

            “Elena?” Rachel sounds in my ear. “Are you alright? You’ve been really quiet.”

            Uh… “What? Y-yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I just.” Oh, there’s no hiding it. “I’m sorry. I kind of spaced out.”

            “It’s alright. Hey, just take a breath. This is a new chapter in your life. Things will get better… you’ll see.”

            Oh, how I love her optimism. “Thank you, Rachel, for always being there for me.”

            “Of course! That’s what friends are for and let's not forget - you've been there for me many more times than I can count.”

            After our goodbyes, I go over to the window to open it up. The room smells of stale Cheetos and burnt Ramon Noodles.

            Perhaps it’s a foreshadowing of my future college diet - I shiver at the thought.

            As I open the window, I see students all over the yard and sidewalk trying to find their way, saying goodbye to their parents, meeting up with friends, and…

            A man dressed in dark clothing with a hidden face inside a hood of a sweatshirt. He’s peeking around a large tree trunk about a few yards away. Squinting, I still can’t make it out, but I know for a fact it’s him again.

            He followed me to the University of Georgia.

*****

            Core prerequisites are the worst. Personally, I think they are a waste of time because it delays getting into the program that you most desire. I understand why they are needed: to filter through students, make sure the students themselves are serious enough about entering said program.

            But still… College Writing? Is it really needed to become a math teacher for middle school students? I suppose if I was planning on teaching more than one subject, I’d need it, but so far, I’m not planning on it.

            … Well, maybe math and social studies; still trying to make up my mind.

            I do know I don’t want to teach writing – I hate writing – especially when you have to focus on certain topics.

            The classroom is standard with blue chairs, white tables – four chairs to a table. Seven rows which go all the way to the back of the classroom against the windows. In the front is a large desk where the professor will occupy and a large whiteboard behind it taking up the majority of the wall.

            Since I printed off the syllabus last night, I’m rifling through it to see what is in store for me. I take out a highlighter and highlight when the first essay is due.

            “I do the same thing,” a deep voice interrupts my actions of organizing.

            Looking up, I see a man who is tall and thin with dark disheveled hair, blue eyes – sky blue, faint brown facial hair, and a white earbud in his ear.

            He takes a seat beside me as I give him a small smile out of courtesy while he unpacks his backpack to take out an organized binder that puts my flimsy folder to shame. There are tabs on each divider for every class.

            Does that say Intro to Engineering?

            Hmm. Seems like his life is put together well.

            “Don’t let this all fool you; this is the only organized part of my life.” His smile is warm and kind, it reaches his eyes. “I’m Derek.”

            When he holds out his hand, I decide to take it. “Elena.” With nothing else to say, I smile in return – though the smile isn’t enthusiastic, I am anxious to get this semester going and a bit relieved that I may have found a new friend.