Chapter 1
The second I opened the door to my new dorm room, the weight on my shoulders seemed to lift, replaced by a swirl of anticipation. I took a deep breath and stepped in, dragging a huge suitcase behind me while my camera bag slid down my arm. My green eyes widened as I surveyed the space that would be my home for the next chapter of my life.
“Wow, this room is huge!” I observed out loud to myself. There was another girl in the room, my roommate I gathered. She had already started unpacking, her long, dark hair swept up into a messy bun, and her hands moving with practiced ease. I liked her already.
“Yeah, I know, right? And look, we’ve got our own bathroom!” She pointed at the small door tucked in the corner. “No communal showers for us!”
I laughed, dropping my suitcase with a thud. “Thank god for that.” I’m Amelia, by the way,” I said, extending a hand towards Jasmine. She took it, giving it a firm shake.
“Jasmine. Nice to meet you, Amelia. You know, I’ve been here for a few days already, so if you need any help finding your way around campus, just say the word.”
“Thanks, that’d be great. I’ve got my first class tomorrow, so I’ll definitely take you up on that offer.”
As we chatted, I started to unpack my things, hanging my clothes in the closet and arranging my books on the shelf. Jasmine watched me, her eyes curious.
“So, what’s your major, Amelia?”
“Photography,” I replied, holding up my camera. “I’ve always loved capturing moments, you know? Making them last forever.”
She nodded, impressed. “That’s awesome. I’m majoring in Art History. We’ll have to collaborate sometime.”
“I’d love that,” I said, genuinely excited. “What about your boyfriend? Does he go here too?”
Jasmine laughed, a sound that filled the room with warmth. “Oh, I don’t have a boyfriend. Not yet, anyway. I’m not really looking for anything serious right now. Just focusing on school and having fun.”
I smirked, “Well, I guess that’s one thing we have in common then. No boyfriends for me either. Just my camera and me, against the world.”
She grinned, “Sounds like a plan. Hey, speaking of school, we should probably head to the lecture hall for our first class. It’s getting late.” I glanced at my watch, “Shit, you’re right. Let’s go.” We left our room, Jasmine leading the way through the bustling halls of the dormitory.
I followed, my camera bag slung over my shoulder, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness about starting this new chapter of my life. As we stepped out into the crisp autumn air, I took a deep breath, the scent of leaves and promise filling my lungs.
“Alright, so the lecture hall is that way,” Jasmine said, pointing towards a large, imposing building in the distance. “We’ve got a few minutes to spare, want to grab a coffee?” I nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, please. I could use a caffeine boost before the first class.”
We diverted our path towards the nearby coffee shop, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee already wafting through the air. As we stepped inside, the familiar sight of students huddled over laptops and textbooks greeted us. We ordered our coffees, mine a black americano, Jasmine’s a vanilla latte, and found a small table by the window.
“So, what’s your first class?” Jasmine asked, taking a sip of her drink. “Introduction to Photography with Professor McAllister,” I replied, pulling out my schedule. “You?”
“Art History 101, same professor,” Jasmine said, looking at her own schedule. “Guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other this semester.”I grinned, “Looks like it. I’m actually kind of excited to have a class with him. I’ve heard he’s tough but fair.”
Jasmine raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah? Who from?” I shrugged, “Just some people I met at the orientation. I didn’t catch their names, but they seemed to know their stuff.”Jasmine nodded, “Well, just remember, tough but fair doesn’t mean easy. His classes are known for being challenging.”
I took a sip of my coffee, the bitter liquid waking up my senses. “Challenge accepted,” I said, smirking. We finished our coffees and headed towards the lecture hall, the sun dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows across the campus.
As we approached the building, I could feel the familiar flutter of nerves in my stomach. New beginnings always came with a certain amount of anxiety, but I pushed it aside, focusing instead on the excitement I felt.
Jasmine led the way up the stone steps and into the dimly lit lecture hall. Rows of wooden seats stretched out before us, most of them already filled with students. We took our seats in the back row, the worn wood creaking under our weight.
I looked around, taking in the sea of faces, each one a story waiting to be told. My eyes were drawn to a dark-haired boy a few seats away. He was leaned back in his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, a smirk playing on his lips as he listened to the professor.
There was something about him, an air of mystery that intrigued me. I couldn’t help but steal glances at him throughout the lecture, my curiosity piqued.
Professor McAllister’s voice droned on, his words blending together into a monotonous hum. I tried to focus, to take notes, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the boy. Who was he? What was his story?
I couldn’t help but wonder, my mind racing with possibilities. I stole another glance at him, my eyes lingering a little longer this time. He must have felt my gaze because he turned his head, his dark eyes meeting mine. I quickly looked away, my cheeks flushing, but not before I saw the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile.
Professor McAllister’s voice cut through my thoughts, “And that, class, is the basic history of photography. Now, let’s discuss some modern techniques. Who can tell me about the role of digital photography in contemporary art?”
I glanced around the room, hoping someone else would volunteer. The boy caught my eye again, this time his smile was unmistakable. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and raised an eyebrow at me. I felt a flutter in my stomach, a spark igniting at his gaze.
“Anyone?” Professor McAllister pressed, scanning the room. His eyes landed on me, and I knew I was done for.
I swallowed hard, trying to hide my nervousness as all eyes turned in my direction. Professor McAllister raised an eyebrow, waiting for my response. I took a deep breath, my mind racing as I tried to recall anything I’d read about digital photography.
“Well?” Professor McAllister prompted, a hint of impatience in his voice.
I cleared my throat, sitting up straighter in my seat. “Digital photography has revolutionized the way we capture and share images,” I began, my voice surprisingly steady. “It’s made photography more accessible, allowing anyone with a smartphone to be a photographer. But it’s also changed the way we perceive and consume images. They’re no longer physical objects, but data, easily manipulated and shared across the globe in an instant.”
Professor McAllister nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Very good. You’ve touched on some key points. Now, who can tell me about the impact of social media on photography?”
My eyes darted around the room, hoping someone else would volunteer. But everyone seemed content to let me continue. I took a deep breath, my mind racing. “Well, social media has democratized photography,” I started, confident in this topic.
“Platforms like Instagram and TikTok have given a voice to photographers who might otherwise go unnoticed. They’ve also changed the way we consume and appreciate photography. It’s not just about the images anymore, but the story behind them, the person who took them.”
Professor McAllister nodded, his smile widening. “Excellent, uhm.” He stalled, obviously looking for my name. “Amelia.” I answered his unasked question.“Amelia,” He continued. “You seem to have a good grasp on this material. Perhaps you’ll consider leading a discussion on this topic in our next session.”
I felt a flush of pride at his words, but also a twinge of anxiety. Leading a discussion in front of the class? That was a whole different ball game. But I wasn’t about to back down now. I nodded, “Sure, I’d be happy to lead the discussion.”
Professor McAllister smiled, “Wonderful. Now, let’s move on to our first assignment. I want each of you to take a photograph that represents your interpretation of ‘home’. It can be literal or metaphorical, but it should be a place that holds significance for you. The image should be printed and ready to present in our next class.
"Any questions?” Professor McAllister asked, looking around the room. A few hands shot up, but I was too lost in thought to pay attention. Home. What did that even mean to me anymore? My parents’ house in the suburbs, filled with memories of my childhood? Or my dorm room, where I was just beginning to create new ones?
I snapped back to reality as Jasmine nudged me, “Hey, you are you going to ask about the print size or anything?” I shook my head, “Nah, I have a good idea of what I want. You?” She grinned, “Same.”
So, what’s your plan for the rest of the evening?” I shrugged, “Not much, just going to head back to the dorm and start thinking about this assignment. Jasmine’s eyes twinkled with mischief, “Well, I was thinking we could grab a drink at The Tipsy Scholar. It’s a local bar, just off campus. Lots of students go there. You in?”
I hesitated for a moment, then nodded, “Sure, why not? Just one drink though, I don’t want to start the semester with a hangover.” She laughed, “Deal. Alright, let’s get out of here.”
We gathered our things and made our way out of the lecture hall, the sound of our footsteps echoing in the now-empty room. As we stepped out into the cool evening air, I felt a sense of relief. The first day of classes was always a bit overwhelming, but I’d managed to hold my own.
Jasmine led the way towards The Tipsy Scholar, her long hair swaying with each step. I followed, my camera bag slung over my shoulder, my mind still buzzing with thoughts of the assignment and the mysterious boy from class.
