ALL MINE

eight

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Summer woke up to the worst news ever. Her employee transfer request was denied. She worked at Walmart in New Jersey and asked her manager to write a request to transfer her to the nearby Walmart in Syracuse. Unfortunately, Walmart rejected her request because they had no available positions.

"I'm back at square fucking one." Summer cursed while rubbing her temples. Her college tuition was covered. However, she was worried about her phone bill and necessities. Summer liked getting her nails, hair, and lashes done. Also, she was a huge fan of purchasing clothes and shoes.

She was worried about not having the money to keep herself up. Summer didn't want to ask her parents for money. She knew that Christie wouldn't give it to her; if she did, she would ask her millions of questions before giving up the money. Summer didn't know what to expect from her dad. She didn't like to ask him for money at all. Christie was the one who made Summer ask her dad for his information so she could get her tuition paid in full. 

Summer dreaded getting up for her morning class. She found herself getting gloomy but knew she had to shake it off. As of right now, she had an A in her English Composition class and wanted to keep it that way.

The young woman showered, slipped on some comfortable clothes, and gelled her hair into a bushy, low bun. Her edges were a little disoriented, so she cleaned them up. Summer noticed that Tatiana was still fast asleep. Quietly, she left the room.

Summer was figuring out Winston and the shortcuts she could take. She made it to the correct building and walked inside the room to receive the long lecture. After finding her seat, she pulled out her notepad and waited patiently for her professor to begin.

The discourse was long, and Summer could barely focus on what was happening. Professor Warner was longwinded, and he talked dully, which made her sleepy. She was already in a bad mood about not having a job.

After class was over, Summer wasted no time gathering her things. She prepared to leave the room but was stopped by a classmate. The classmate was of average height with a tanned complexion —he was not an African American. Summer realized he had long hair that was inky and braided.

"Hey. Um, I know this is weird, but I was wondering if you have any whiteout on you?"

Summer eyed him carefully. The situation was weird because she did carry whiteout with her. For some reason, her mom put her on to carrying whiteout around. She wrote with ink pens and felt the need to stay equipped with it.

"Actually, I do have some." She rummaged through her backpack and found the whiteout in the zipper section of her bag. Quickly, she handed it over and watched as the guy set his paper on the desk and brush over the mistake he made.

"Thank you." He responded while closing the bottle and handing it over.

"You're welcome."

The young man eyed Summer before speaking. "What's your name?"

"Summer."

"Summer," He reiterated and nodded. "I'm Benji."

Awkwardly, Summer pushed out, "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, you too. Hopefully, I'll see you around."

"Yeah...." Summer trailed off as she shot him a fake smirk. The woman proceeded to leave. She did not want to hold a conversation with Benji. All she wanted to do was go to her room and lay in bed. It was the best remedy for her problem.

She realized the residential hall wasn't too crowded when she made it to her dorm. Most people were either in their room studying, at work, attending a lecture, or fast asleep in bed. A few people were lingering around and chilling. Summer walked past a small group of girls and proceeded to gain access to her room.