Untitled: Chapter 2

I got one night to myself at Aunt Rose’s. Rose had a bedroom set up for me which she presented as she explained how it was expected for my Mom to visit more often, but apparently never did.

I liked my room here. It seemed like Aunt Rose knew me a lot better than I thought. The walls were a dark but soft purple color that I’d always found comforting. The carpet was fluffy and white, with black and purple throw rugs. My bedspread was (guess what color?) purple. How did she know purple was my favorite?

The greatest addition to the room was probably the tall, black bookshelves that extended floor to ceiling and was full of all the books you could imagine. I saw it was missing a few of the more recent books that had just come out but was full of children’s books, classics, teen books, YA novels, non fiction, some biographies and an encyclopedia.

“I like to read as well. So I put some books initially on the shelf for you, see the kid’s books? But then when was finished with a book, I didn’t really have another place to put them, so I put them in here. You can take as many as you want to boarding school, if you want.” her cheeks were flushed at the mention of school. Immediately, all the thought she’d apparently put into this room so many years ago had little effect on me. I had no reason to kiss up or to try to get to know her. I’d probably only be here for summers and holidays anyway. I had two years left, why waste the time and energy on an Aunt who never seemed to put forth anything towards me?

“I usually have some cocoa and a snack before bed in the winter if you want some as well. You’re going to have a long day tomorrow so it’s probably best if you go to bed early.” I nodded, staring at my feet and not speaking. I didn’t see her expression as she set my small suitcase down and shut the door as she left.

Plopping down on my bed, I thought about the boxes of my things waiting in the car, how soon they would be in the room of my new boarding school. I missed my Mom. I wanted Momma and Daddy back. Why did they have to leave? I tried to hold back the tears. They wouldn’t want me to cry, would they? Would they want me to be miserable? I thought about what my Mom would say.

If Momma were here, she would hold me and whisper soothing things into my ear. Daddy would probably make a joke. Something along the lines of “Well you’ve been itching to get rid of us anyway, boarding school would just be an escape from your dear old Mom and Dad”. I missed them. I regret any time I ever said “That’s so unfair” or telling them I hated them. Did they know I loved them? Did they know I missed them?

As I pondered this, the waterworks began to flow. The salty tears stung my cheeks for what seemed like the millionth time that day and I buried my face in a pillow to muffle my screams.

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I got off the plane in Seattle around 6 am. Aunt Rose had me catch the early morning flight to save some money. So I had been up since 2 am, drove half an hour to the airport and waited around with Aunt Rose. We got food and waited in the flight terminal. My flight departed at 5 and arrived around 6. Sighing, I made my way to the woman in a pencil skirt with the name card labeled (Martin).

“Are you Mrs. Winslow?” I asked. This was the teacher my Aunt told me would be picking me up from the airport. The woman nodded, pushing a blonde lock out of her face.

“Can I see ID?” I asked. having grown up in New York, I wasn’t taking any chances. She gave me a confused look but handed it over. After verifying her identity, we walked to check out.

“You must be tired,” she said awkwardly. She pushed her short blonde hair out of her face again and her blue eyes pierced mine. She had small wrinkles, but couldn’t be older than 45 or younger than 40. She was wearing black slacks and a light blue blouse with a chunky black necklace and flats. Overall, she didn’t really have much of an effect on me. I could see this woman walking down the street in the business district of New York, or teaching in a classroom. So I just nodded, not giving her a hard time but not wanting to open up to her either.

“Is that yours?” She pointed to the bright green bag I had described earlier. She took it off the carousel as I nodded my head. I didn’t want to speak. I didn’t want to speak to anyone, really.

After a long, awkward car ride we finally arrived at school. It looked like there were about seven buildings. Respective buildings for math, science, english, history and the arts. The other two were a girls and boys dormitory. Even though this was fairly obvious, Mrs. Winslow felt the need to point everything out.

“Oh, and the teachers have suites in the top floors of the building. Above the noise and stuff.” I had wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to speak. Everytime I tried to talk since my chat with the social worker, my throat closed up and I thought of my parents.

My dorm room was not as cozy as my room at Aunt Rose’s. Or at least, my half wasn’t. On my roommate’s half, the bedspread was red with a pattern of red flowers that gave it an asian look, like the fabric once belonged to a kimono. On the end table there was a mix of colored pencils, action figures, comic books, nail polish and assorted hair accessories. At the foot of the bed there was an oak chest with drawers, a red blanket hanging half hazardly over the edge. My roomie had tacked up posters of superheroes and a movie actor or two. If I had to judge her by her room, she must have a warm personality.

Then my eyes roamed to my side. There was a bare mattress on the bed with only boxes of my things on it. At the foot, there was a matching chest sat with a small coat of dust. The end table was bare except for the lamp, and the desk in between the beds was messy with her things. Not mine.

“I hope you’ll be comfortable. Your roommate is a nice girl, I think you’ll get along well with her.” My eyes stared blankly, I didn’t want to say anything but I didn’t want to be rude. So Mrs. Winslow did what she presumably thought was the right thing, she left. And she was right. I just wanted to be alone.

My OCD was itching to wipe off that layer of dust and to get settled. So I took the boxes carefully off the mattress and searched for the one labeled “bedding”. After a plume of dust shot up out of the box, I knew this was going to take a while.

Thankfully, by the time my roommate walked into our living quarters, I had just finished putting the photo of my parents, Haylie, and I into a frame and putting it on the lamp. My bed was neatly made, an extra blanket at the end was folded neatly. Every nook and cranny was meticulously smoothed, flattened and cleaned. Then the door opened behind me.

“Ohmygosh!” She jumped, dropping her bag in the process. Wordlessly, I helped her gather up her things and set them on her bed.

“Nobody told me I was getting a roomie. I’m sorry, you just scared me. I’m Cora.” She held out her hand and I shook it, pointing to the pillow on my bed my mother had stitched for me as a little girl. It had my name in purple threat in an elegant script only she could manipulate to her will.

“Wyatt. You don’t talk much, do you?” I shook my head as I sat down, making faint wrinkles in my comforter.

Cora seemed to have her own method. She set a pile of books on the blanket draped over the dresser-chest. She then pulled out a laptop and the charger cord and set them on her bed. As she moved around, her small black mop of hair fell into her face and her long, graceful fingers flit about. She seemed like an interesting person, unless you didn’t feel like talking to anybody.

Slowly, I opened my red carry on bag and pulled out the few books I had taken from Aunt Rose. One was Pride and Prejudice one was The Bible, the one after was The Great Gatsby and the final book was Little Women. These were all classics, ones that my Mom wanted me to study and read. She was Christian and tried to raise me by her beliefs. In fact, I’d inherited her favorite silver cross necklace, I never took it off. And looking at these books, I knew that these were words my Mom had read. So I hugged the books to my chest and as the tears rolled down my cheeks and the sun finally faded, I dropped off to sleep.