We've arrived. It is my junior year of college. If you had asked me a few years ago, I would never have considered going to college. Until now, I wasn't even sure what I wanted to do with my life.
As you graduate from high school, you are obligated to know exactly what you want out of life. When I saw that my other classmates had clearly set goals, it always made me feel discouraged. People always talk about how adulthood is different and more challenging than your youth, but they never truly prepare you for it. Nobody gives you a lesson on how to get your shit together.
That overwhelming burden of life made me fearful of beginning the next chapter of my life, known as adulthood.
It took me a few months after graduating from high school to figure out what the hell I wanted to do with my life. Do I enjoy this field of work? Will this earn me any money? Is it something that will help me in the long run? Would I rather be unhappy and wealthy, or happy and poor?
Then I found a passion.
A passion is something that I fall in love with every time I do it, no matter how long I do it. I knew almost immediately when I found it. College was no longer as bad as I had imagined.
I wasn't as discouraged as I had been. Why? Because this college was one-of-a-kind. It's unique because it's an art school. In my opinion, I am fortunate to be able to attend a school with students who are similar to me. We all have the same artistic talent. I find art fascinating because, no matter how good you are at it, your work will always be special. That is what differs our art students. We each have a blueprint, a signature, something that distinguishes our work.
I snapped out of my thoughts when I realized that we had finished loading my moving boxes into my new dorm.
"That seems to be the last one," my best friend, Gabriel, says. I went to his college last year, which was about thirty minutes away from this one. It stinks to abandon him now.
"Gabe, thank you so much. For everything." I approached him for a hug.
"Don't be worried. You already know you're my girl." He chuckled as he hugged me back.
"I'm going to miss you." I sighed deeply into his shoulder. There will be no more late-night conversations, sneaking off campus to get wasted, or skipping class together. Life isn't the same as it used to be in high school.
Gabriel and I have done everything together since we were children. My aunt and his mother were best friends who lived next door to one another. He stood by my side during the darkest and ugliest times of my life. Even if I didn't ask for it, he was always willing and able to help. He was like a brother to me when I was younger.
Then came hormones and puberty. Feelings were involved, but that's a different story. Aside from that, this would be our first time parting ways.
"Stop acting as if I'm going across the country." He rolled his eyes, which made me laugh.
"I guess you should call me when you're bored. Please don't forget about me. You tell me if you end up meeting someone you like or if anything else happens." I swatted at his forehead.
"If you get bored, call me and I'll come to see you right away. And I promise you'll be the first to hear about it, Kimora." He rubbed his bruised forehead with a smile.
"Gabe, I love you." To hide my swollen eyes, I forced a smile.
"I love you as well. Don't do anything that I wouldn't do!" He kissed me on the cheek, and there was a brief pause before turning to leave, closing my door behind him.
I let out a long exhale that had been building up inside of me. I sat on the edge of my bare mattress, my elbows on my knees.
There I was. I was alone in this empty room with a slew of boxes. I despise being alone. That was ruined for me by parts of my childhood. I took a look around the room. There was silence. It was completely silent.
I groan and reach for my phone on the mini-desk. I decided to look up my roommate's name again. I've only spoken with her once on the phone, but she struck me as someone who shared my vibe. She introduced herself as Naomi and said she was a junior like me. She had already attended this school the previous year, so I'm sure she knew more people than me. I exited the website and rolled up my sleeves to begin unpacking.
...
I awoke the next morning with most of my belongings in their proper places. I only had two boxes left, so I was making good progress. I reached for my phone on the nightstand. I panicked when I saw the time on the screen was 11:59 a.m., realizing I was already late for my first class. What a great way to start my first day!
I practically teleported out of my bed and hurriedly dressed. I was going to dress cute today, damn it. I don't have the time right now. I put on some sweatpants and yanked the bonnet off my head. I looked in the mirror to put my hair in a cute bun with two buns on top that I had studied for hours on YouTube. I then applied a touch of makeup and gloss before grabbing my bag and heading out.
When I got to the hallway, I looked at my schedule to see where my class was.
"Classes 104 and 106..." I read it aloud to myself. The corridors were deafeningly quiet. I'm sure everyone is in class by now. I took a deep breath before turning the handle when I finally found it. When I opened the door, I was greeted by pairs of eyes that turned in my direction. Shit. The class was completely full.
At that moment, a wave of embarrassment washed over me.
My gaze was drawn to the professor, who was standing behind her desk. This woman embodied the stereotype of a professor. One thing I noticed about her was that she was very tall and slim. She was dressed in a brown blazer with a black pencil skirt and loafers that were far too big for her feet. Don't even get me started on the glasses. They were the old ones that were linked by a chain. And her lipstick, Jesus. It was the brightest red you'd ever seen. Her hair was slicked back in a low bun, and she appeared to be in her late fifties... I believe.
"Good... afternoon, miss." She cut me off in mid-thought. I took a look at her teeth, which were stained with lipstick. And her voice was lower than I had expected.
"Hi." I took a few steps inside the classroom, drawing the attention of the students.
"You're late." Her tone became tense.
"Yes," I said, nodding.
"Are you Kimora Jones?" She took out a clipboard. I'm guessing she's going through attendance.
"That's right." I swallowed and cleared my throat.
"You'll be seated next to Jamie. Jamie, please raise your hand." Her tone was irritated.
I searched the room for a raised hand before noticing his right in front of me.
"Please take a seat." She mentioned this before taking a seat at her desk.
"Thank you." I feign a smile.
"My name is Mrs. Smith." She returned the smile. I approached Jamie, who gave me a big smile. I returned it before taking my seat next to him.
"You are expected to have your interior book, a pencil, and rulers before you come to my class every day." Mrs. Smith said this after a few minutes of typing on her computer.
Interior book?
"Interior book?" I put my hand up. Nobody informed me of this.
"Yes. It was on the course syllabus." She fixed her gaze on me.
"Oh. The syllabus..." My lips were pierced together.
"Do you not have the book, Miss Jones?" Her arms were crossed.
"No, ma'am," I admitted.
"So you arrived late and now you're unprepared?" Her voice was slightly raised.
"Yes, ma'am." I'm just making a fool of myself.
"Don't you think you're a little unprepared today? This week, I'll give you a warning. But you'd better have it by the next time I check." She averted her gaze from me. At this point, I wanted to hide in a cave. This was going to be a long and excruciating year.
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