Mirrored Cuts

Chapter 3

I saw Flint again at a freshman event filled with trust falls and other forced bonding activities. He was wearing cowboy boots and a bandana around his neck and hooting over something one of our other floormates had said. One of the other guys from our floor gave him a look, a look asking for the volume of his laughter to be cranked down. Flint didn't seem to notice or mind. I found a way to join his group, the one rotating through the activities slower than every other group.

"So, you're from Texas?"

"Yes, ma'am. But this here liberal stuck out like a porcupine at a nudist colony in his home town." He had adopted a mildly offensive regional accent to make his statement even more ridiculous. "What about you? Where are you from?"

"Connecticut. And I'm an expert at blending in."

"I could pick you out of a crowd, easy."

A blush crept up my neck and I tried not to faint. "That's because I'm not trying to hide."

"Good," he said.

I realized that the group had left us behind. I felt daring in Flint's presence. "Let's skip out. They've already seen us make an appearance."

Flint took my hand, causing the little dwarves in my stomach to do a jig. We jogged away, turning back to see if anyone was looking. We were completely conspicuous and I loved it.

* * *

The next day, I woke up and ran through my schedule. I was taking the required freshman courses: English Lit, World History, Calculus I. It was unfortunate, because I had already completed the college equivalent in my AP's, but the college didn't count those towards requirements. I planned on attending all of my classes. I wanted my professors to like me. In high school, all of my friends and I had gathered in our favorite teacher's room during our free periods. Every year, we had a new favorite teacher who mentored us and joked with us like equals. I wanted the same thing to happen here and going to class was a good place to start.

"Fuck you."

The sound came from Ruby's bed. I glanced up the lofted bed and tried to figure out what she was doing. She looked like she was still sleeping, but she had definitely just yelled.

"Ruby?" I said.

No response. I climbed onto my desk to see her better. She was tangled in her sheets, her eyes were shut and she was thrashing about. I was stuck with a violent sleep talker. She had been blessed with a village elder's way of telling you how much they didn't like you, even in her sleep. I made a mental note to loft my bed as well, just in case she was also a sleepwalker. Hopefully, sleepwalkers can't climb ladders and I would be safe from her sleepy rage up high.

I picked up my backpack, an item that was half my weight already from a computer and a textbook, and slipped out the door, closing it until I heard a soft click. I hoped that Ruby hadn't heard it and woken up. I padded down the ghostly hallways painted in a palette of colors that could only have been selected while looking at vomit. No one was awake to witness my exit, 10 am being too early for most of my floor to have decided to go to class. As I walked through the campus, I made sure that my hair was in place, that I was wearing my makeup and that I looked generally presentable: my mother would be furious if she found out I was checking myself after I had left the room.

I arrived at Calculus I and slipped into the seat in the front left corner: my favorite vantage point. It allowed me to see the professor and pay attention, but not so teacher's pet-y as to be front and center. The other students filled in the back rows, gradually forcing the newcomers to fill in rows closer and closer to the front. I was hoping that someone could sit next to me. Then, I could make a friend. It would be weird if I turned around just to try to make friends. Besides, after orientation week, everyone had already found their preliminary friend groups and they were sticking to them, afraid that if they let go of them, they would be left friendless and alone. Which is a fair fear, just perhaps not one that allowed for making more friends.