𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚝𝚠𝚘

Summer came and went. Yale was on the east coast, where we had lived, although it was still quite a ways away from Vermont. My parents were proud, and there were no more letters from Charlie Dalton. They began to think that whole chapter of my life had ended.

They told me to focus on something that would make me a lot of money because that was the most valuable thing in life, right? I disagreed, but silently. I wanted to be a writer. Keating and the other poets showed me a different world. One where I could be  anything I wanted. It was freeing. I understood Neil's love of the arts.

Yale was fine. It was pretty. But it was fine. I wasn't sure where Pitts was or Meeks. Maybe they decided not to go? Maybe I was alone... again.

I went to my new dorm room and met a girl called Rhonda. She was daunting in all honesty. Her blonde hair was twisted into a messy bun right behind her head. She was smoking in the room when I got there, her things already set in place. "Roommate?" She asked, holding out her hand. It was weak and unbothered. I took it, shaking it slightly. She didn't grab on at all. "Good to meet ya, doll."

"Doll?" I asked, my heart pounding for a moment. "Please, don't call me that. Sorry."

"Ah, sorry. Ex lover or somethin'?" Her voice was slightly nasally, and she had a drawn-out almost New Yorker accent.

"Something like that." I replied, awkwardly putting my things on the bed. "What are you here for?"

She laughed, catching me off guard. "Dollie- I mean..." I gave her my name. "Y/n, you're talkin' like this is a prison sentence or somethin'." She laughed again, puyting on a gruff masculine voice."What are you in for?" She leaned back on her desk, taking a law draw of her cigarette. "Pyschology." She blew the smoke out dramatically.

I knew she was trying to intimidate me, and she was successful. I nervously laughed along with her, taking my things out of my bag and putting them in different places on my side of the room. At least she wasn't a Cameron, but in a way, she reminded me of one of the boys. Charlie with a mix of Neil. The two people that I missed the most.

"And you?" She asked as she watched me lay a stack of poetry books on my bedside table. I turned my head, giving her a confused expression. "What's your major?"

"English." I replied quickly. I held up one of the books. "As if you couldn't tell." I wanted to befriend Rhonda. It was a much smarter idea to have a roommate who actually liked you than one who didn't.

She snatched it from my hand. "What is this?" She began flipping through the pages. "Why do you write so many notes?"

"What do you mean?" I chuckled, actually not understanding what she was talking about. I turned around to see her reading it. "Neil? Was he your ex lover who called you doll?"

"Neil?" I wasn't sure I heard her right. She laughed at my response, thinking she was right in her discovery. I took the book from her.

I looked at the black pen that stained the yellowing pages of my favorite poetry book. It was a blank page, and written on it was something Neil wrote.

It wasn't a letter or anything fancy. It was a bunch of scribbles, written down words and sentences that caught his eye. Then, at the bottom, it said.

Sorry, thought this was my book. -Neil

I stared at it as if it were an ancient artifact in a prestigious museum. Rhonda furrowed her eyebrows, watching my behavior. "Who's Neil?"

"My friend." I replied, staring at the ink, hoping it would come alive somehow. Maybe Neil would knock on my dorm room door and apologize in person for writing in my book. I wouldn't be mad. I wouldn't be mad at all. He left his mark on me in more ways than one, and I was happy I had physical proof of it.

"Ok, but clearly this Neil guy had some weird impact on you." She laughed again. "He wasn't your boyfriend?"

I finally closed the book and set it back down on my desk. "No, he was just a friend. Uh, yeah. He..."

"Did he like wrong you or some shit?" She asked again, seeing that I was uncomfortable. "If he ever comes here I can beat the shit out of him. You know, I've beaten up a ton of guys before for my gals. I'm not afraid."

I smiled, thinking that was sweet of her but my memories quickly took over. "No, Neil's... he's.." I didn't know how to put a person into one word. Especially, someone like Neil. "He saw me. He saw Todd. Like, we weren't strangers we were-"

"Todd? Who the hell is Todd?" She seemed invested.

"It doesn't matter." I shook my head. "He was a good kid and that's that, okay?"

"Was?" She caught onto my wording. "What did he die or somethin'?" She took another draw of her cigarette. I nodded. "Damn."

"Damn." I nodded again. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry." She clearly wasn't the best person to come to for comfort, but in a way, I found comfort in that. I wasn't one to open up easily. Just ask Charlie.

"Uh, if you see a Gerard Pitts or Steven Meeks let me know. I've been looking for them."

"Woah! You already have two guys in your heels in you just got here?" She was impressed. "Teach me your ways, sweetheart."

I laughed, my face turning red. "No! They are friends too! Plus Pittsie is dating my best friend. It would be rude to steal him away from her. I don't think I could even if I tried. They're tight."

"Cute. But whose Steven?" She asked, leaning forward. Clearly, she wanted to set her up.

"Uh uh! I could not see you two together!" Rhonda smiled at my response, almost as if she was saying 'try me'. "He's a full-on geek. I bet he's going into chemistry."

"He could have chemistry with me if you know what I mean?" She winked.

I ignored her. "Or physics, actually."

"Ooo, even better." She laughed, and I rolled my eyes. I liked Rhonda. She seemed like a great roommate.