As Easy As Murder

5. summer allergies

I stand in the driveway. The sun beats down on the roots of my hair. I fidget with my necklace. The day has come. 

"Well, Becky, we're officially empty-nesters," Dad puts his arms around mom, who is blotting her eyes with a kleenex. I look down. I've opted for tripp pants, spiked wrist cuffs, a messenger bag, and a tight black shirt. I'm sure my parents are so proud of my modesty. 

Mom walks over, eyes wet with send-off tears, even thought we haven't even gotten in the car yet. She wraps her arms around me, and I smell her petunia fragrance. Dad is shoving a big cardboard box into the trunk, and Loretta, who never left from last night, is leaning against the side of the house, legs crossed and hands in pockets. 

"My allergies must be acting up," Mom lies and sniffles, blotting her eyes again. A slight breeze ruffles our hair as we all turn to look at my bug, which is stuffed absolutely full of my late-night packing. I'm sure I forgot something. Oh well. 

Loretta approaches, doing her strategic 'trying not to trip on my pants' walk. She's opted for dark jeans and a baggy shirt, her green curls tied up into space-buns. 

"Take care of her." Dad pats her on the back. 

We exchange a 'yeah right' look, but she nods, "Of course, Mr. Hart." 

Mom snorts, unable to fathom the idea of Loretta being responsible for herself, never mind me. It's late morning. The intent was to get on the road and drive to the university an hour ago. But none of us wanted to move. We wanted to prolong it all. Except for Loretta, who urged us to get our butts up and move. 

We finally all squeeze into my bug, me and Loretta shoved tightly against one another, and Mom and Dad gushing about how It seems like I was just 9 yesterday and now I'm 19 and leaving for uni. 

Loretta kicks her legs up onto my lap, prioritizing her comfort over mine, as per usual. I glare at her, and she just smirks. Loretta very well could've driven herself to uni, but decided to tag along with my family purely to witness all my parents sappy comments about me leaving the nest and give me hell for them. Also because she says there's no point in taking her own car when she usually ends up in someone elses. TMI. 

We start on the road and all the emotions about leaving I pushed down last night come rising up. I watched too many emotional things about leaving for college and now It's biting me in the butt, memories of my childhood flashing before me, and the image of it all slipping away, into a reycling bin of the past, only to be brought up in past tense at family gatherings. 

But. 

This is also the day I've been waiting for. Ever since I was 6, sneaking out of my room late at night to catch the true crime shows with ratings not suitable for me, I have wanted to be a detective. Up at all hours, putting my blood sweat and tears into solving a case long gone cold. It's been a lifelong dream, and I intend to make it come true, get down the road of success, no matter what kind of disagreeable man-shaped speedbump happens to come in my way. 

I lean back, popping in my airpods, eardrums greeted by O' Sweet Child Of Mine. 

Loretta's dirty sneakers are the last thing I see before slipping to the arms of sleep. 

I wake up to her vigorously shaking me. "Wake up idiot, we're here." 

I push open the door of the car, getting out to see the university. Same building I was in last week, but this time no unpleasant remarks and sweater vests to stop me from getting where I need to go. 

Dad is holding an online directory of the university, and points to a smaller building to the side of it, "That's the dormitory." 

We walk over, Loretta following. Usually, the college wouldn't let a junior and a freshman dorm together, but Lor pulled some strings, and lied about how I was so anxiety ridden that I wouldn't be able to attend without her prescense. I wasn't too happy with her, but I have to give her credit. It did work. 

Mom opens the door of the building and we enter an elevator, the walls of it a chocolate brown. It makes a loud 'ka-dunk' sound as it starts to move. 

"What's our dorm number?" I ask Loretta. 

"444." 

An angel number. I hope that's good luck. I nod, registering the information into my mental file-cabinet of important information. The elevator doors open with a screech as we walk out onto our floor. A 70's floral carpet jumps out at me as I look around, fancy light fixtures like the ones by the community bathrooms hang in a row down the seemingly never ending hallway. 

Loretta leads me to our unfortunatly shared living space and slides in her key, unlocking the smooth white door. It swings open mechanically, revealing the absolute mess before us. Loretta did not warn me that her dorm looks like it was brutally ran through by a frat boy tornado. Mom and Dad look unphased. After all, they've known her just as long as I have. 

Dad puts down one of the biggest boxes in the main room, and I walk into our room. Loretta has started me off with a couple of posters on my side of the room, which is otherwise a blank slate. Of her favourite bands, not mine, but it's the thought that counts. I set down my duffle bags, and Mom smiles weakly at me, clearly trying not to show how emotional she was that her baby was all grown up. 

Loretta breaks the silence with an earth-shattering burp. "Scuse' me." 

"Nice one." Dad holds his hand out for a hive, and Loretta almost dislocates his arm with the force of it. 

Mom rolls her eyes, and I nod. 

After a very emotional send-off, 100 goodbye hugs, and Mom checking about 1,000 more 'one more things' just to stall leaving. Eventually, It's just me and Loretta in our closet-sized sleeping quarters of new beggingings. Well, for me at least. 

I flop down onto my bed, which I have fitted with my black and white plaid bed sheets and 9 blankets, which I all have some sort of emotional attachment to. You could say I'm a bit sentimental. 

"So what's your schedule tommorow?" Loretta rolls onto her stomach, head held up by her fist, book in hands. You may have gathered that Loretta isn't the book type. And you're right. Her mom is a bookworm, and makes her read the same books she's reading as a mother daughter bonding expirience. Loretta lies that she despises reading, but I see how intently she stares at the pages, and whether she refuses to admit it or not, I've caught her blubbering once. 

"Tommorow I have criminology, some sort of math, and court systems." I mumble, looking down at my schedule. The math does not please me. I've always dragged behind in the subject. Numbers simply not computing in the jungle of my mind, too many thoughts, too many words to think about numbers. 

"Cool. I got...something." She mutters and shrugs. 

"You're so organized." 

She does a weird maneuver to get from her bed to mine, too lazy to get up and walk across the room  just to punch me in the arm. I nudge her back and we laugh. She starts showing me some YouTuber guy she thinks is hot, while I sit back against the wall and stare ahead at the Blondie poster on the wall. 

As much as I'd like to pretend I'm not worried and have it together, I don't. I may be an extrovert, but meeting satan's step son 2 weeks before starting the biggest social journey of my life threw me off a bit. 

I can't wait to vanquish him. At what? I don't know. I don't feel like I know much of anything right now.

I'll figure it out. I always do. 

Loretta puts on her playlist, and of course the first song to play is my Ex's favorite. Images flash in my mind, and I bite my lip as hard as I can, the only way I've found to distract myself.

Loretta pulls out her phone. "I'm gonna order dinner. What do you want?" 

I shrug, zoned out. 

"Pizza?" 

"Yeahthat'sfine.." I mutter quickly. 

Is it?