Chatham Hills, home to a shopping strip better than any boardwalk you’ll ever see, is a popular college town that doubles as a tourist attraction. On one side is Chatham University. On the other, built on an old cobblestone road, is the mile-long shopping area housing stores of all different kinds, bars, and restaurants. People visit all throughout the year, but college kids can’t get enough of it either. I know this from the few times I’ve crossed the bridge to explore when I was a senior in high school. I wanted to see what it would’ve looked like had I filled out an application to Chatham U, and been accepted.
The second Sebastian swings open the door to the apartment, I want to turn around and go back to my initial plan of sleeping in my car until I figure shit out. I know it’s ridiculous, but it’s starting to feel like a lot.
Like too much.
The floors are waxed and shiny, the furniture appearing like it costs way more than the few hundred my car set me back. The flat screen TV takes up the entire wall, and I don’t miss the shelf underneath that houses every game system known to man. To be expected since Sebastian has been gaming since hewas practically in diapers and is getting his degree in coding and programming.
“No fucking wonder you left the dorms.”
“Sweet, right?” A grin breaks out on his face, but it’s not smug or showy. It’s not about what he has. If anything, I think he’s happy he gets to share it with me. Aunt Bess and Uncle Thad hooked him up.
“Sweet sounds like a huge understatement.” Outside of his parent’s house, I’ve never stepped foot in a place this nice. Just like Sebastian’s childhood home, this place reeks of wealth. Aunt Bess was lucky to marry into money. It was the best thing she could have done to break the cycle of addiction that burned like a wildfire in the Moore family.
“Webber and Tristan aren’t home, so we’ll catch up with them later. Let me show you to your room.” I follow him down the narrow corridor with doors lined on either side. He pushes the last door open and extends his arms in a ta-da motion before coming up behind me to grip my shoulders. “Welcome home.”
While Seb’s intentions are pure, I can’t help but feel like a child instead of the twenty-one-year-old man I am. I should be further in my life than having to shack up with my cousin who’s in college and his roommates. I try to block out the inner judgment that comes when I think about it too much, but as soon as I shut the door on it, it starts banging its fists.
“Bathroom is through that door.”
An attached bathroom I don’t have to share with anyone?
Great.
The pounding only gets louder.
He points to a door next to the bathroom. “Closet is there. Dresser’s here, obviously,” he says, patting the top of an armoire that is no match compared to the plastic three-drawer organizer I used in Harrison Heights for my clothes.
“I’m next door if you ever need me, but yeah. Make yourself at home.”
My laundry basket thuds against the floor when I drop it. I make a mental note to shove it under the nightstand since there’s just enough space for it there. I don’t plan to unpack too much. I don’t know how long I’ll be here, and if shit goes south, it’ll be easier if I can grab and go quickly.
Sebastian fist bumps my shoulder on the way out of the room when I turn quiet. I’m grateful he understands how difficult this is for me. That he doesn’t feel the need to pull a conversation out of me about it. I force myself to breathe through howmuchthis all is. I’m desperate to get to that point in life where I can relax and let my worries fade, but I can’t afford to let my guard down yet, especially when I feel like I’m losing control.
Sebastian was born to live in a place like this.
I wasn’t.
The longer I look around and the more times we go down to my car and bring more of my belongings up, I’m reminded how unnatural it is to be here.
Jesus Christ, I’ve slept on the same mattress since I was seven years old. The floors back in Harrison Heights are covered in stained carpet that the strongest carpet cleaner probably wouldn’t even remedy. Everything in Spring Meadows is brand new, shiny, and expensive. Reminders of how far from home I am. Reminders that bring up Mom’s addiction and the ten-thousand-dollar debt she’s racked up with her drug dealers.
And the reminder that if I ever plan on having a life of my own and getting out of their crosshairs, I’ll have to pay every last cent of it back.
TWO
VIOLET
The sudsy watercovers my body in the best way. The warmth encases me like a cocoon, and not for the first time, I’m glad to share a bathroom with Everleigh. It isn’t attached to our bedroom like Sylvia’s en suite, but it has a bathtub. Something Sylvia’s bathroom lacks since her bedroom is bigger in size—the perk she claimed since her parents pay a bigger portion of the rent. While Sylvia loves the extra square footage in her room and could care less about how much of a treat it is to soak in a tub, I’d sob if I couldn’t get in my daily bath time.
I sink lower into the water and ignore the fact that I should be getting out instead of settling in more, but I can’t help myself. Life has been challenging lately. I faced what I’d consider one of the lowest lows of my life this summer, and because of it, I threw myself into learning yoga. It didn’t take me long to love it, but with all the deep stretches and perfecting stances comes sore muscles.
A pound hammers through the door, and Sylvia yells from the hallway. “They’re here! Get your ass out of the tub!”
Her footsteps echo down the hallway before I can reply. I sink further into the water, going low enough to dip my earsin and tilt my head back so I don’t need to close my eyes. My hearing fades out, the water making the tiniest sound a blur.
I don’t want to leave the tranquility of the bathroom. Since being back on campus, I much prefer the quiet and being alone, especially when it seems like all of us are expanding out and creating our own lives outside of our circle of friends. There’s six of us, and while we should feel closer than ever, it doesn’t always seem that way.
I can’t deny my part in the distance since I’ve withdrawn from outings and texting as much as I have. This past summer killed a part of me, and I’m hesitant to lean on anyone to help me through it. Especially when it seems as though Sylvia has had a bug up her ass since last semester and Everleigh isn’t as present as she used to be. She’s trying to be all in with her boyfriend, Tristan, and he’s struggling too, putting his position on Chatham U’s football team in front of Ev. It’s comforting knowing I’m not the only one having a difficult time, but makes me sad that we’re all a little off and allowing it to affect our friendships.
