“You didn’t bring much with you. Is this everything you have?” she asks, her eyes wide.
I stop and look at her. My chest tightens, and my heart starts to race. And now the judgment begins.That didn’t take long at all.
Though I expect nothing less from people at this school, it still makes me uncomfortable. Not just because of what she thinks about me but more so because of how true the statement is.
This really is all I have.
All I’ve ever had.
With a sigh, I force a smile. “Yeah,” I say, holding her gaze. “It is.”
She nods, her expression softening. “I’m sorry.” Her voice wavers as if she’s embarrassed by her actions. “That was rude. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay,” I cut her off. “Don’t worry about it.”
We stay silent for a moment, staring at each other. Neither one of us moves, nor do we attempt to speak again. Instead, we just let the awkward silence fill the room while we both try to figure out what to do next.
“Wait.” Gracie finally hops down from her bed and saunters over to her closet. The door creaks as she slides it open. A moment later, she pulls out a square-shaped bag and inside it is a comforter set. One of those expensive ones that cost at least a few hundred dollars.
“Here.”
“What?” I ask, my brows pinched tight.
“You can have it.”
I shake my head, pushing the bag toward her. “No. You don’t have to do that.”
“Sam, I want to. And trust me. You’ll want these. The bedding they give us feels like steel wool. These will be much better.”
I glance down then back up at her. “But these are yours. I can’t take them.”
“Sure you can. I keep two extra sets in my closet anyway. Plus, we’re going to be friends, and last I checked, friends look out for each other.”
I stare at her for a second, studying her face. I’m speechless from her sudden act of kindness.
“Thank you.” It’s all I can say past the lump in my throat. Taking the bag from her, I turn to face my bed. The comforter does look like it’s made of the hardest fabric in existence.
“Let me help.” She gets to work stripping the linen from my bed.
I don’t even bother to stop her. What’s the point? I can see now that she would only insist.Maybe I was wrong about her.
“What’s your major?” Gracie asks while taking the bedding set from my grasp and removing the fitted sheet. I jump in to help, taking one end from her and stretching it onto the top portion of the mattress.
“Psychology,” I answer, my voice low and strained. “Yours?”
“Kinesiology. What classes are you taking this semester?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure yet.”
“How do you not know?” She pauses to look at me.
“There was some kind of mix-up with my schedule,” I explain. “I tried to get it worked out when I went to pick up my key earlier, but they were busy with only one person working and a line of students waiting. So all she cared about was making sure we got our dorm assignments.”
“Yeah, that sounds like something they’d do.” She sighs and continues toward the other end of the room. “Well, you should go first thing in the morning. It’ll be less crowded since most people won’t be getting up that early.”
“Thanks,” I add with a grateful smile.
When we finish dressing the bed, Gracie takes the old linen and tosses it in the bag the others came in before throwing them at the back of my closet.
