Young Writers Society

I arrived at my door, guided by the siren call of an indie tune. As I pushed it open, I found Emily in her usual state of joyful chaos. Sprawled on her bed, her pale skin glowed in the soft room light. Each strand of her short hair, curled wild, was a whirlwind, as free as her spirit. Her eyes, revealing her Asian descent at their edges, danced between the pages of the book she clutched. In mismatched socks, her feet pointed upward, creating an X shape. Tucked in between her lips, she held a pen with distracted reverence. Her constant smile stood out the most, radiating boundless happiness. By embodying life's unpredictability, she enriched the world.

“Hey,” she called out, only half-focused on what she was doing. She sat up as I approached my side of the room.

“Hi,” I responded, placing my books neatly on my desk.

“This semester will be hectic.” She closed her book.

“I know. We will have to make plans to hang out.”

I sat on my bed, the plush blanket touching my thighs, where my flowery dress stopped. Removing my boots and placing them with my other shoes beside my bed, I leaned back. Both my style and my life were a combination of two different aspects. Although I adored all things girly, there was a part of me that was drawn to darker aesthetics.

The fluffy pillows behind me cushioned me, and I grabbed one with my last name on it, squeezing it as if strangling it. There was a setup of shelves and cubby holes between our beds. Fresh pink roses, a weekly gift from Jake, sat on my windowsill while an arrangement of haphazardly clustered origami figures sat on hers. I organized my side, placing everything in specific spots, while she left her belongings scattered on her bed and floor. I wondered how she knew where anything was. The only connection between our sides was a strand of twinkling lights wrapped around the room’s entirety.

“Of course! So… how was your day?” She crisscrossed her legs, pushing her book aside, and it fell to the floor with a thud.

“Pretty good…” I considered mentioning Zeke, but then decided against it, concluding it unimportant. She sensed my hesitation and tilted her head.

“What is it?”

“Well, I... I met someone…and it was… different.”

“Come on, spill the details!” She jumped a tad before settling back onto her bed. A moment stretched before she crossed her arms. “I’m waiting!”

I let out a forced, nervous laugh. “As I came upstairs, a boy ran into me. He shrugged off my name and didn’t treat me like people do. Although he recognized me, and I think he was flirting, it wasn’t in the usual way. He didn’t seem to want anything from me.”

“That’s so interesting! I can’t remember when someone wasn’t in awe or being a kiss-ass to you.”

“Yeah…it was weird. But nothing.”

“You never know. It could be something!”

“Yeah, whatever you say.”

We spent the next hour laughing and planning the next few weeks. We were determined to savor every memory leading up to graduation. While getting ready to sleep, a bittersweet feeling washed over me, knowing college was nearing its end.

The following day, I woke to her phone ringing loudly. She remained unbothered, rolling over. I groaned and reached over to silence it, my sleep-deprived eyes struggling to adjust to the sunlight filtering through the curtains. When my hand found her phone, I unlocked it and turned the noise off.

“Hey, wake up!”

She did not move, and I tossed one of my pillows across the room, smacking her on the head and causing her to groan.

“You don’t want to be late, do you?”

She mumbled something incoherent and pulled her plaid blanket over her face. I chuckled, and crossing the room, tugged at her blanket. She clung to it, her groans growing louder.

“Come on, lazybones!”

She finally peeked out from under the covers and gave me a sleepy smile. “Five more minutes, please?”

I shook my head, knowing that ‘five more minutes’ would soon turn into half an hour. She pouted her lips, and futile against her stubbornness, I gave up. “All right, fine. But when I get back, you’re getting up.”

Our floor had rooms with private restrooms, making it more expensive, but it was a luxury I cherished. While washing my face in the bathroom sink, I pondered what the day held for me. I brushed my hair into a high bun and fastidiously applied makeup. Sliding a dress, a timeless Faberge of lace and navy, over my shoulders and down my body, I smoothed it into place, its edges resting mid-thigh. Despite the formal expectation ingrained in me since childhood, I fearlessly donned my boots, determined to make a statement.

Once ready, I headed to the campus café to get coffee. When I returned, I found Emily out of bed and dressed. Her striped cardigan pulled over her bare midriff. She stretched like a cat and yawned as she stood from the bed, still looking half-asleep. I laughed, knowing she needed caffeine to wake up fully.

“Coffee will do the trick!” My voice purposefully boomed through the room. She rubbed her weary eyes, their honey hue sparkling as a small smile glided across her face.

I handed her a cup of black coffee whose bold flavor matched her personality. She smiled, sniffing the cup, and steam drifted up, slightly covering her face.

“Second day, senior year. Can you believe it?”

I raised my cup in a toast. “To our final year being the best yet.”

She added, “To being our authentic selves and kicking ass!”

We clinked our cups together. I sat on my bed and savored the delicate cappuccino in my hands. It had frothy foam with airiness on top, and its caramel taste was comforting as I swallowed.

“Somehow… I think this year will be different. It’s like something special awaits us,” she added, setting her cup on a shelf.

“I think you might be right. This is our last chance to make the most of it.”

An eagerness oozed on her raised eyebrows and high cheekbones. “So, tell me, how will you make the most of it?”

Taking a slow drink, I pondered the question and swallowed. “Yesterday, I tried to talk to my father about the future, but he wouldn’t listen. I can’t hide who I am to please him anymore. I’m no longer interested in maintaining an image I’m not.”

“Damn right! You have so much talent, and it’s about time the world sees it.”

I blushed, unsure of how to handle compliments.

“Thanks… One day, I’ll buy a gallery for undiscovered talents.”

She brought her hands to her face. Colorful clips pinned back her hair, with a strand falling before her eyes.

“That’s a great idea! Not only for you, but you could help others! Whatever you do, I know it will be great.”

“What about you? What is your plan after graduation?”

She gathered her thoughts, swooping her loose hair back with a clip. “Well, as you know, I’ve always been interested in the environment. I want to use my engineering background to create sustainable solutions for single plastics.”

“I always knew you would change the world,” I replied, proud of my best friend’s goals.

“Likewise,” she beamed.

“We are going to make this year count. No holding back.”

After breakfast, she headed to the environmental building, and I went into business. As I walked through the door, the atmosphere felt stiff and suffocating. A few windows were present, surrounded by white walls, floor, and furniture. With each step down the hallway, claustrophobia smothered me. I passed several students in business suits and overheard them discussing stocks and market trends. The air felt thick as I entered the classroom. Students in the front row were engaged in a heated debate about international trade. Beyond them, more were ready to dive in, taking out their notebooks with anticipation.

I sat in the back row, and the professor entered the room. Everyone fell into an attentive silence. The lecture began, and I tried to focus, reminding myself that I had dedicated three years to this major. Economics was important and affected the world, but I struggled to connect with it on a deeper level. The professor discussed the syllabus, summarizing the course objectives. When he encouraged us to ask questions, everyone periodically raised their hands except for me. I failed to care enough or desire any clarification.

Eventually, the class ended, and I gathered my belongings, feeling frustrated. How had I wasted so much time letting my father dictate my life? Working for one of our companies would be easy, but I would sacrifice my happiness. My future felt like a taunting shadow following me as I returned to my room. I thought of my friends. Emily knew what she wanted, and her dedication was clear in every word she spoke. She had complete certainty in herself, with no doubts or remorse. Then there was Nadine. She did not care about anyone’s opinions of her. She marched to the beat of her own drum, fearless of risks. Jake even had control over his career choice in law. None of their parents pushed ideals onto them, forcing them to be how they wanted. Their future was theirs to own, while I carried the weight of one that wasn't mine.

I opened my sketchbook, looked at my drawings, and reflected on my life. If there was one thing I had determined, true fulfillment meant embracing who you are. I decided to embark on that journey as I tucked my sketchbooks into my backpack and hung it on the hook. I did not know what my father would do, but I had to start living for myself. As night fell, thoughts of my friends comforted me, and I knew they would support me no matter what I did. My mind drifted to Jake, and I wondered how he would react.

Irritated, I rolled over, shoving that thought down. No, I reminded myself. I needed to be more like Nadine and stop putting other people’s thoughts above my own. I needed to be more like Emily and steady within myself. Finding the irony in still comparing myself to others, I drifted off into sleep.

I awoke the next day and channeled my anger into determination. I had to embrace the person I aspired to become. After getting ready, I headed to the administration building. The voice inside me grew louder, and I was prepared to listen.

As I walked through the main door, photographs lined the walls, and I ignored one of my father and grandfather standing before the new renovations on campus. I approached the registration desk and greeted Mrs. Stevens, the serious but efficient administrator responsible for course registrations.

Her red glasses rested on the edge of her nose as she peered at me. “Hello, Mrs. Stevens,” I greeted her politely.

“Ah, Abigail,” she nodded, flipping through some papers. Her long-legged stature stretched in her chair. “How can I help you?”

“I want to add painting as an elective this semester.”

She looked up from her work, skeptical. Her beady eyes smashed behind her glasses as she slid them up her nose. “Painting, huh? That’s quite different from your major, isn’t it?”

I nodded, realizing this conversation would be hard. “Yes, it is. But it will help me grow professionally and personally.”

She seemed taken aback by my response, shifting from skepticism to curiosity. The hardened lines in her face softened before turning into stone again. “I see…” She tapped her pen against the desk. “How will you balance this with your current schedule?”

“I have thought about it. I think this will bring positives to my life, and I can manage it. By exploring my artistic abilities, I will bring a unique perspective to my business studies, and vice versa.”

Mrs. Stevens studied me, as if to gauge how serious I was. Her glasses descended from her pointy nose once more as her chin met her neck. She adjusted her glasses, clearing her throat. “This is going to be quite unusual, but I can see your determination. If you are willing to take on the extra work and ensure your grades don’t suffer, I will grant your request.”

"I am." Leaning on the desk, I felt a sense of assurance wash over me.

After some thought, she nodded. “Very well, dear. I appreciate your honesty. I will add it to your schedule.”

Her glasses fell back to the tip of her nose. “Remember, with your increased workload, burnout can happen more easily, and you are very close to graduating.”

“I know. I promise to put in my best effort.”

She completed the addition, and I left. This change was the first step towards embracing myself. A rush of elation coursed through me as I returned to my dorm. My feet bounced, and my body felt lighter. My smile grew more prominent with each step, and I took an exhilarating breath as the world around me burst with color. I felt like dancing, feeling in sync with myself. I swayed confidently, eager to leave my mark on the canvas of life.