I’m not the only one milling around by myself either. There are more of us than them, but it doesn’t feel that way when you’re alone.
“All right, guys, I think we’re all here. Are we ready to get started?” a guy with way too much enthusiasm, or caffeine, asks loudly enough that I see people fifty yards away turn their heads to look in our direction. The smug, indulgent smiles say so much. I can’t wait until I can just stroll past too and act like I wasn’t ever this green.
The group as a whole moves a little closer to the four people in university T-shirts. From there, we’re broken up into smaller, more manageable groups. I somehow get stuck with the loud guy, even though I was inching my way toward the pretty girl with blonde hair who seemed much more subdued.
“I’m a fast talker and walker,” Chadwarns, already moving backward. “We won’t get to see everything, but I really want you guys to get a good sense of the campus. How many of you are coming from a small town or school?” He peers around, and I do too. My town wasn’t small, however my school was tiny, but I’m not going to admit that. Several hands start to lift but don’t rise fully into the air. That seems to be good enough for Chad, though, because he comments, “It can feel overwhelming at first, but you’ll be golden after the first few weeks.”
I don’t necessarily believe his promise of being golden,but I trust we won’t be getting lost at that point.
“Since you guys all did the virtual welcome event, I’ll just point out a few places of importance that we’ll pass on our tour.” Chad does, in fact, walk and talk fast, but that means this might be over sooner, right?
When we enter the first building, I let out a pleased sigh. Michigan is hot in August. I’m going to have to peel my jeans off when I get home. I’m so glad I went with a pair of slides, at least I’m comfortable and my feet aren’t sweating like the rest of me.
“We’re going to get a chance to meet a few other students. Feel free to ask any questions you have” —Chad looks down at his phone— “for the next twenty-three minutes.”
“He’s an RA in my dorm,” a nearby girl mutters. “Every time he looks at me, I feel like I should be doing something more. He has like five jobs and a double major.”
“I just want to get through my first year without being placed on academic probation,” the girl she’s chatting with replies.
“Hey, guys,” a much more restrained voice calls out, but they still manage to be heard. I lean around the group and spot four students, all in the same university shirts, seated at the front of a stage with their legs dangling over. My eyes are drawn to a wide set of shoulders exiting the stage to a curtained off area. The light-headedness and slightly woozy feeling that follows comes without explanation and only lasts long enough for me to question what the hell is happening.
A flash of heat runs from my head down to the backs of my calves, and I pluck at my shirt a few times, trying to get air. I’m convinced I’m overheated. The guy next to me gives me the side-eye and takes a few steps away, which is fine by me. When everyone else meanders toward the front of the auditorium to take a seat, I linger halfway back at the end of a row all by myself. This is probably making me stick out more, but I’m not feeling so hot, and I’d rather be closer to the exit if I need to run out and puke. Spilling my salted caramel cold brew down the aisle would be much worse.
Once everyone is seated, Chad announces, “This is Kayleigh, Carmelo, Ethan, and Mia. They are going to tell you a little about themselves and answer any questions you have.”
The first girl waves to us. She’s pretty, with a perfect smile and long dark hair that looks silky and soft, even from far away. “Hi, I’m Kayleigh. I’m a third year, and I’m in the nursing program. I’m also in a couple of our one thousand, five hundred, and twenty-seven student led organizations.”
“I’m Carmelo. I study sports medicine, and I’m on the lacrosse team.” His build is similar to the guy who left the stage, and I wonder if he was one of his teammates.
“Hey, guys, I’m Ethan.” He smiles wide, like he’s actually happy to be talking to us. “I’m a political science major. I head up a few of the student organizations Kayleigh mentioned, and I’m a senior. You picked a great place to start your future.” Ethan isn’t nearly as handsome as Carmelo, but he certainly makes up for it in charm.
The last girl is in a cute set of paint splattered jeans, and her hair is styled in pigtails. “Hello, freshmen.” Her voice is raspy, a total contrast with the cutesy look she has going on. “I’m Mia, an art student. It’s part of my job here at school to greet the incoming undergrads. I’m a junior, and I hope at least one of you has an original question to ask.” She scans the filled seats, appearing bored. I like her. She feels genuine.
“I know we’re short on time, so let’s get started with questions,” Kayleigh says and points to the first hand that shoots into the air.
“What if you’re undecided?” a guy asks.
Mia’s head falls back on her shoulders. I bet if I were closer, I would have heard her groan.
The group takes turns answering our questions as if they have a predetermined order. None are what I would call original, I could literally google every question that’s posed and get an answer, but I guess it’s not the same as hearing someone enrolled in the school answer.
“I see there are a few more questions, but we need to head over to get your Mcards. There will be lots of opportunities to speak with your fellow students,” Chad interrupts Ethan before he can call on another person.
“What dorm has the best food?” a guy shouts.
Mia shields her eyes with her hand, looking out into the crowd. “Not original, but at least it’s a decent question. The dorm the football players live in.”
“Okay, let’s go.” Chad starts waving out the front rows, ushering them up the aisle. I stay seated so I don’t end up at the front of the group, plus my eyes are locked on the stage to see if the shoulders that drew my attention make another appearance.
I’m not the last to leave, but pretty close, so I hear Ethan chastising Mia. “Everyone’s question is important to them.”
“Shove it up your ass, Ethan.”
I’m smiling when I finally exit the auditorium and walk face-first into someone’s shoulder. My nose crunches, but the embarrassment I feel is so much worse, not to mention I brushed my hand across the person’s tight butt when I lifted my hands to my face after stepping back. My gut tightens as a wave of annoyance washes over me that is so misplaced, I don’t understand it myself. I was the one who wasn’t watching where I was going.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt out before he can turn around, then wedge myself into the slowly shuffling forward group. I make it a point to not look in his direction, but from the corner of my eye, I can see his stubbled chin shifting as he looks for the person who just groped him and put their nose print on his back.
My nose hurts, but there’s no way I’m touching my face.
