Welcome to Welton

Chapter One

My roommate dresses like an eighties movie. Sometimes I catch him staring from his bed. It's navy and plain, boring compared to the rest of his side. The right walls are covered with posters, photographs, and old postcards.

He has a desk too. Littered with poems, doodles, and homework assignments. There's a lamp, four books stacked neatly beside it. The wall behind is taped with tickets from carnivals and concerts and movies and more. It's less of a room and more of a walk in journal. His own personal museum.

My half is bare in comparison. Not only that, but boring and pathetic. Grey sheets and a framed picture of the family dog, Cashew.

My room at home has a few decorations. A cross my grandparents gave me when I was baptized and a few posters, one with Psalm 23:4 and another with Joshua 1:9. To be honest I got the first because it says "Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me," which I secretly find funny. The second was a gift from my mom a day or two after I told my parents I wanted to start anti anxiety medication.

It reads "I've commanded you to be brave and strong, haven't I? Don't be alarmed or terrified, because the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."

Let's just say I never started those meds.

Thanks mom.

She actually bugged me several times about bringing the cross. Insisted it would bring good luck. I told her I didn't want it getting broken. Of course then she offered to buy a cheap one just for school. I lied and said I had already got one.

I wonder if my roommate is religious.

It's only been a few days and he's already cracked the window to smoke a joint. That was last night. I don't think he noticed me sniffing from the dark. If he did, he didn't care.

I'm looking at him now. He has a pair of headphones on. His chin is tilted down and bottom lip stuck out. He's reading something. Probably something for school. He's a week ahead and classes don't even start for two more days.

We haven't spoken. Not even a hello. I still don't know his name. I still can't tell if it's because he's cold or just awkward like me. Either way, no conversation shared. Just lots of staring. In our room and on the field. Even at dinner.

I wonder how long he's been here and how hard he had to work to get in.

My brother Jeffrey was a legend here. He attended all through middle and high school. Straight A's and top of his class. Everyone loves him, my parents especially. He didn't have to work a bit.

It's my senior year and I've only just got in. My father wasn't even proud. Only disappointed it took so long.

Fortunately I didn't do it for him. I did it to get away.

Welton Academy is everything Jeffrey said it would be. Clean, proper, and strict as can be. Every time I step into the hall, someone new is being lectured. They only started allowing girls seven years ago. They only started once a week no dress codes two years ago.

Despite it all, I feel more at peace and more free than I have ever felt in my parents house.

I don't notice I'm still watching until his brown eyes are staring back. His brows furrow and still I don't look away. Instead I hold my gaze, daring him to speak. He doesn't. He turns back to the book.

Finally I sigh, leaning into the wall behind me. I pull my knees up, frustrated. My eyes close. I wish there was a memory I could go to or a friend I could call. Anything to hide just how lonely I am.