Chapter 1 - Emery
There’s something nauseating about airports so early in the morning. I’m not sure what it is. Maybe it’s the smell. Or maybe it’s just my exhaustion manifesting itself in a way that it thinks I’ll give in to, either way, I’m going to be adding it to my list of reasons why I don’t want to be back in Florida.
I make my way through the airport in search of the baggage claim, my goal being to get my shit and get the hell out of here as fast as I can. I finally spot my two bright red suitcases and grab them off of the carousel rolling them behind me.
I don’t make it very far before I’m tackled into a big hug and hear a loud squeal right next to my ear. If I wake up deaf tomorrow, I know why. I’m let go from the hug by my sister, Grace is standing in front of me with an overly big, excited smile on her face.
“It’s so exciting that you’re here,” Grace says, reaching for one of my suitcases. I let her take it and shoot her a small albeit forced smile.
I’ve known Grace my entire life given, well, that we’re sisters but our age gap made finding that sisterly bond difficult. I was born when Grace was barely fifteen by total accident. Funny enough, Grace had her own accident a year later at sixteen. So while I was learning to walk, she was teaching her own daughter the same things.
Despite that, I still learned to read Grace pretty well. And right now her joy and excitement are screaming nothing but fake. She uses this fake enthusiasm with me a lot more than she used to, which I’m not sure is a good thing or a bad thing.
We make our way out of the airport swiftly and pack my luggage into Grace’s Audi. I stare out the window as we hit the road, watching the passing street lights instead.
“You don’t seem very excited,” Grace comments, glancing at me for a quick second. “This is a big opportunity for you, Emery, you should be more excited.”
The events of the last few months flood my mind and it serves as nothing but a reminder that I am a failure. That’s why at twenty-one years old I am moving back to the town I grew up in to live with my sister and her adult daughter.
I clearly have a lot going for me.
“Use this chance as a way to make something of yourself,” she continues. “You have to realize that there is more to life than what you were doing in high school.”
I snort, high school. Of course, she’s going to bring up some of the worst years of my life.
“I just want you to do something else other than just cause drama.”
And boom. There’s the end of the infamous lecture I receive from her every time I so much as breathe in her direction. You would think at thirty-six with her own kid she would be able to focus on something other than my fuck-ups.
I don’t say much of anything back to her because if I did I’m sure she would have another lecture waiting to slip out. We reach her house quickly and I jump out, getting my suitcases from the trunk, and follow her inside.
Her house looks like someone took a page out of a magazine or it jumped from someone’s Pinterest board. Everything is crisp, white, and light pink. It makes sense considering she is an interior designer. Although it makes me not want to touch anything in the living room.
Grace walks ahead of me through the house without stopping and starts climbing the stairs.
“I set up the guest room for you. It’s the last door on the left,” she calls over her shoulder. She keeps walking up the stairs and leaves me standing at the bottom.
***
I finally am able to throw myself into bed after rummaging in my clothes, showering, and changing into something that hasn’t seen the inside of an airport. The thought is just gross.
I close my eyes and will sleep to come to me, but I get nothing. How can I be so tired yet wide awake? It fucking sucks knowing I have to get up in just a few hours to start classes at Citrus Grove University.
I put off coming to Florida for as long as I could because it was the last place I wanted to be. I knew what was waiting for me when I got here and when Grace opened her mouth she proved me right. I have spent the last four years trying to prove I’m more than some stupid mistakes I made as a kid but it never seems to do the trick.
***
I drift in and out of sleep all night and when I inevitably hear my alarm screaming on my nightstand I am forced to get out of bed.
With a tired groan, I rub my eyes. I trudge over to my luggage for something to wear and when I land on my favorite pair of jean shorts and a basic white t-shirt.
I head downstairs where Melissa, my niece, is in the kitchen waiting to give me a ride to campus. When she sees me she gives me a hug.
“Emery!” she exclaims. “I’m so happy you’re here! It’s going to be so much fun!”
The level of fake enthusiasm matches her mom’s almost to a T. Which is eerie, it must be genetic.
I do a once-over of Melissa. She’s a year younger than me and I haven’t seen her since I was sixteen. She’s dyed her dark brown hair platinum blonde and has it styled pin-straight.
“Yeah!” I exclaim back, matching her tone. “It’s gonna be great!”
She doesn’t say anything else. She just grabs her keys off of the counter next to her bag and heads for the door. Guess I’m not getting breakfast today.
I follow her outside to her cherry red jeep. She got it for her sixteenth birthday and has never shut up about it since.
I buckle my seat belt and we make the short drive to campus. When we’re almost there I turn down the radio Melissa was blasting.
“You can drop me off near the Lawrence building, I have a microbiology class there this morning.”
Melissa doesn’t dignify me with an answer, instead, she turns the radio back up and pulls into a random parking lot. She gestures for me to get out so I do. I barely got the door shut before she was peeling out of the parking lot and speeding away.
I look around trying to guess where I’m at but come up empty. With not much else to do, I pick a direction and start walking.
***
I never would have thought that this small university’s campus could be this big. I’ve been wandering around looking for the Lawrence building for almost thirty minutes and have come up empty-handed every time. I also have yet to see another person on my entire walk which is fucking weird in itself.
Just as I turn another corner, I finally spot someone. I’m not one to ask for help or for directions but honestly, I gave up fifteen minutes ago and this is my last resort. Contrary to what my sister believes, I genuinely do care about my education and my future career.
“Hey!” I call out to the guy walking in front of me. He stops and turns around with a big smile stretched across his face. I keep walking up to him and he meets me halfway.
“Hi!” he greets back excitedly. Now there’s real enthusiasm. He still has that big smile on his face.
He’s tall and his shaggy blonde hair shines in the sun as he stands in front of me.
“I was wondering if you could help me?” I ask, trying not to sound as desperate as I truly am. I didn’t think it was possible but his face lights up even more than before.
“It’s your lucky day, I am a great helper.”
“Can you tell me where the Lawrence building is? I have a class there and I’m pretty sure I’m super late already.”
“It’s your even luckier day,” he says, grabbing my arm by the elbow and pulling me to walk with him. “I was headed in that direction anyway.”
As we walk I’m certain this guy is talking a million miles a minute, jumping from one topic to the next like it’s nobody’s business. Well, I guess it isn’t. He tells me he likes my burgundy colored hair and it looks good on me. It’s the first compliment I’ve gotten on it from anyone who isn’t my best friend, Ollie. He also goes on to tell me about something he was listening to or watching, and something about Taylor Swift and the current tour she’s on. I couldn’t quite catch it all but I did my best to follow.
Eventually, we reach an older-looking stone building with a big metal plaque above the doors reading Lawrence Building of Sciences.
“Thank you for your help-” I trail off.
“Dylan. My name is Dylan.”
“I’m Emery. Thanks again!” I turn to go up the steps when he calls my name.
“Come to lunch with me today. I can show you around again some more and we can just hang out.”
“Maybe,” I answer truthfully.
“Come onnnnn,” he draws out. “It’ll be fun and delicious. The dining hall is that building across the road. Just head over This afternoon and I’ll meet you there.”
I don’t get time to tell him that when I said maybe I actually meant no before he walks away to wherever he was going to in the first place. I walk up the rest of the steps to the Lawrence building and finally make my way to class.
