Hilton Hall
We pulled up to this brilliant school. It was a circle of buildings. The dorms would be on the outside, then the school buildings. In the middle stood the quad, the field used to teenage girls to study and tan, used for boys to let out excessive amounts of testosterone.
Hilton Hall was beautiful. It was my fantasy.
The limo pulled to a stop and I stepped out, clutching my bag. The sun shone over head.
“Beautiful,” I whispered. My bags were stood beside me. The driver parked the car.
“This way.” He said. He handed me a folder full of information. In the dim light, I skimmed it, going over my schedule and dorm assignment.
“Carter House, with Harper Kane.” I said, “Room 24.” I looked out for Carter house. The crickets chirped, a sound I had never heard before.
“Over here, Princess.” My driver said. I turn and pull my wallet from my purse.
“Leave my bags in the front,” I said, handing him a few American dollars, “Thank you.” I say.
“Good day and good luck, Princess.” He said and exited. I go up the stairs, wondering where my dormmates were. I entered the room and came face to face with another girl
“Ohmigod. Who the hell are you?” The girl I assumed was my roommate, Harper Kane, was staring at me with huge green eyes. Her hair was long and blonde, flat and straight.
“Please, I arrived early this morning.” I said, “I’m Nikolina Mikkelsen, your new roommate.” I stare at her, meeting her with a leveled gaze. She relaxed at looked around at my bare side of the room.
“Where do you come from?” She asked. I lower my eyes to the ground and toyed with a lock of my hair.
“Norway.” I replied. My stilted English rang through the room. It was something I couldn’t hide. Harper nodded.
“I’m Harper Kane.” She said. She ran a hand through her hair. Her eyes quickly assessed me. I shrunk under the burn of her gaze. I’m still in my traveling wear, minus the jacket.
“Welcome to Hilton Hall.” Harper said slowly.
“Help me with my bags.” I ordered. She raised a blonde eyebrow.
“Excuse you?” She asked.
“Please.” I scrunched my nose up, “Will you please help me with my bags.”
“I suppose.” Harper sighed dramatically. We both got out of bed. Harper was nearly a head taller than me. I exit my room and headed down the stairs. My new ‘American’ suitcases, Louis Vuitton, stood in the foyer.
“Does this place have an elevator?” I asked. Harper nodded and pointed, grabbing a suitcase.
“Just hit the button with the arrow pointing up on it.” Harper said. I scoffed.
“I know how to work an elevator. I’m not dumb.” I hit the button and dragged my suitcases in. Harper followed suit, pressing the 2 button.
“Sure you aren’t.” She said fake sweetly. I decided I didn’t like her. She seemed too mean. The elevator stopped with a screech.
“You have twenty minutes until lunch. We don’t wear uniforms until xcasses. Go luck, new girl.” Harper dropped my suitcase by my bed and heads toward the attached bathroom.
I rifled through my suitcases. I selected a pair of jeans and a basic black short-sleeved shirt. I pulled my hair out and brushed it quickly. Then, alone, I stepped out of my dorm and onto campus.
