Prompt Link
Prompt words: Chatter & box
"Camfield Hall... Camfield Hall...," I repeated while driving slowly through the campus, crouched over the steering wheel with my head tilted up. I shifted between looking at the road and looking up at the signs above the front entrance of each identical brick building. After passing a group of boys tossing a frisbee, I spotted my new home. With my blinker making a clicking sound, I veered left and drove around the back of the building. Cars filled up most of the parking spaces, as most of the students had already moved in. There were students around, but most of them were in class. A group of freshmen boys congregated on the outdoor stairway, leaning against railings and laughing as one of them smoked a cigarette. Two girls sat on a blanket outside with their textbooks open. As I backed into a parking space, a loud scraping noise brought onlookers to a halt.
"Pssh, idiot. Oh wow, that's embarrassing. What the hell was that. Oh man, I'm glad that wasn't me." As the cortisol and adrenaline released into my bloodstream, the chatter began. I heard fragments of the onlookers real thoughts mashed up together at the same time.
"brussel sprouts, mashed potat-- What the...," said an older voice. A professor walking on the sidewalk, had been lost in thought, looked in my direction. He must have been on his way to the dining court.
I chugged some cold water and sat on my phone until the turned heads resumed back to their original positions. I got out to see the back of my car pressed up against the cement parking block and the back fence.
"Let's get this over with," I thought to myself as I hit the trunk button on my car keys. As the trunk popped open and I looked inside, I was reminded of the heavy oblong box that sat on top. With it's awkward position in the trunk, there wasn't enough space to get it out between the trunk and the fence I had almost backed into.
"Screw it," I said to myself, after multiple attempts to twist and turn the box out of the trunk. I grabbed a crate of books from the back seat and headed toward the building.
There was a pit in my stomach as I climbed the stairs to the second floor. A critical fate lie ahead as I was about to meet my roommate for the first time.
I pushed open a slightly-opened heavy wooden door to see there was no one in the room; just a room half decorated with photos and collages of sorority sisters. A pink comforter draped neatly across the bed with brand new decorative pillows that still had the tags on them. I looked outside the window at the back parking lot and saw my car noticeably parked much further back than the others in the row; the trunk still popped open. As I turned facing the window, the door creaked open.
"Hiii." Lisa drew out the i in her hi as she appeared through the door cautiously, in an attempt not to startle me. I was still startled. She lugged in a plastic hamper full of clean clothes, along with a small bottle of Tide detergent. "I'm Lisa, great to finally meet you in person." She pushed a piece of her blonde hair out of her face as she extended her hand and set down the hamper.
"Gillian," I said, shaking her hand. "Good to meet you, too."
"So how was the drive here? Did your parents come with you?" She was already sensing my awkward presence and trying to fill it with conversation as she dumped her laundry on her bed and began folding it.
I was prepared for this question with a believable lie. "No, they both had to work. The drive way okay, though and I don't have a lot of stuff to move in." As I lied, the involuntary stress hormones released into my body.
"Oh bummer, what about brothers or sisters?" This question caught me off guard, so I became even more uncomfortable. I began to hear her thoughts.
"--blue shirt, oh, maybe I'll wear this tomorrow with the --- That's strange her parents didn't help her. Well, try to keep an open mind, Lisa."
"Oh, uh, I have a brother. He's still in high school." There was no high school on Makria, but if we all lived here on earth, that's the school he'd be in. So I guess I wasn't totally lying.
"Oh, you'll have to have him visit for a weekend so he can get a feel for what college is like," she said. "God, I sound really cliche saying that. This is awkward. I don't know what to say next," I could hear her think.
By now I was stacking my books onto the tiny shelf atop the desk on my side of the dormitory. "For sure," I said, setting the empty crate on the desk. "I'm going to run down and grab some more boxes." I had found a great excuse to get away from our strained conversation.
I needed a cold shower to calm me down. As I walked around back of the building toward my car, the first thing I'd grab is my shower supplies. I approached the car and was immediately distracted by the oblong box that now lay on top of the trunk lid. Someone had seen me struggling to get it out and decided to help while I was inside. I was glad for the help, but also weirded out. Who was watching me? I lifted the box off the back of the car and carried it inside.
I turned the cold water faucet on all the way while unfastening the clips that held the hair over my antennae. The water was perfectly cold when I stepped into the shower. I realized, as my hair became soaked, that I forgot my shower flip-flops. I didn't care, though. The cold water calmed my nerves and soothed the chatter that had been playing in my mind since my arrival. All became quiet, and I could no longer hear the thoughts of the girl applying make-up in the connected bathroom. I was able to sit with my own thoughts. I started thinking of everyone back home on Makria, and that's when it occurred to me: Elio. It was Elio. He helped me with the box in my trunk. I closed my eyes and concentrated.
"Elio" I thought. "Elio, I know you're here." No answer. "Elio, I saw the box. Thank you, but I know it was you. What are you doing here?."
"Galatea." I finally heard him.
"What are you doing here?" I repeated, demanding an answer.
He hesitated, then finally replied, "Mom sent me."
"No she didn't. Tell me why you're here. It's not safe."
"Are you having a tough time?" he asked.
"I'm doing fine. You need to leave," I replied.
"Doesn't seem like it. You drew a lot of attention to yourself in the parking lot," he scoffed, jokingly.
"Go back home, or mom and dad will hear about this," I demanded. "I'm getting frustrated, and you're starting to cut out. Are you still there?"
"Okay, okay, sorry. I'll leave tonight. You'll let us know if you want to come home?" He suddenly sounded concerned.
"Yes." I rolled my eyes, since I'd been asked this a million times. "Safe travels, love you."
"Love you," he replied.
