August 18th, 2024 9:00 A.M.
"I just don't know why you're making me move to this stupid college in this stupid town, Mom," I say, rolling my eyes. "We have great colleges back home." My mother, turns to me, flicking her dark hair in my face as she snaps her head. "We've had this conversation already, El. I know you don't believe me, but I think you'll love it." She's lived in California since she graduated college twenty-two years ago, yet still has that thick southern accent. "Mom, I got accepted into UCLA, for go-" She interrupts me before I can even finish my sentence. "Eliza Grace, that is enough out of you." I hate my full name. Why would she move out west with my dad, just to give me a southern-belle name and make me go to a southern college? "Dad? Can you please back me up?" He stares at me for a second, then shakes his head. "No-can-do, sweetheart. I love 'bama just as much as your mother here. It gave us so many memories; it gave us each other; it gave us you."
I sigh as we approach the check in table. "CWID?" I give her my number, she confirms my name, and she hands me the keys. "Up to floor 2, please!" My mom says almost too enthusiastically as we walk into the cramped elevator with our guide. He's overly friendly and introduces himself right away as an RA. He shows us to my dorm and exclaims "Here's your stop!" as I unlock the door.
After I moved in, my roommates came into the living area and greeted themselves. I already knew Emma, whom I met through the roommate pairing website, but it was my first time meeting her face-to-face. She was tall and slender, with green eyes and auburn hair. "Although, don't tell the frat guys it's auburn, they'll boo me out for supporting the wrong team." She jokes. Next, came along Mira, a short, chunky girl with glasses. While she's giving her spiel, my mom whispers, "Of course she rushed Theta." I didn't quite understand, but her and Dad chuckled about it to themselves. Finally, Zoey, a sluggish, kind of tomboy girl with thick eyeliner and black box-dyed hair. She was average height, but she slouched so far she looked too small to even be here.
After going out to dinner at some bar on whatever the hell "the Strip" is, my parents finally retired to their hotel. "Remember, El, call us if you need anything." They had an early flight back home tomorrow, and all I wished was that they'd let me go with them. I quickly tired out, and headed to bed myself upon arriving at my dorm.
August 21st, 2024 11:00 A.M.
I walk into my first class, Principles of Macroeconomics. The classroom is full of frat guys and sorority girls, business majors of course. Most of them are sophomores, but I took Principles of Microeconomics in high school. I take an empty seat near the back of the lecture hall, but not too far I can't see or hear. I make sure to sit on the outside so I can escape as soon as it's over. I put my AirPods in and pull out my sketchbook, class doesn't start for another 10 minutes. I start sketching the class, observing the bored looks from the loners and the laughing faces or the socialites.
I'm a minute and a half into Lovers Rock by TV Girl and about 20 people into my drawing, when I notice a guy has placed his bag down right by my leg. I glance up from my art to see him watching me intently. He's tall and athletic-appearing, with dark skin and a strong jaw. "You're a good artist," he says. "But- May I?" He takes the mechanical pencil from my hand and leans forward, nearing close to the book. "I would add a little more shading here, and make these lines a little more bold." He's speaking softly and carefully, as to not disrupt the other conversations around us. "I'm not really an artist, but I did take an Art Studies class freshman year. I don't believe we've ever met, but there are more than 40,000 students on campus. I'm Jalen." I reach out and grab my pencil, "I'm Eliza, but everyone calls me El." I wouldn't have been so polite back home, but after only being around my roommates for the past three days, I'm realizing I need all the friends I can get.
Before I can speed out of the classroom like I had planned, Jalen stops me. "Hey, so don't take this the wrong way, but can I get your number? I've learned throughout my time so far at UA, it's always best to have a study buddy from class, especially in one with over 200 people like that one." Before I can even answer, he has his phone out ready for me to enter my contact. I hesitantly type my number in, not because I think he's hitting on me, but because I don't really ever give my number out. As he takes his phone back to enter the desired contact name, he asks, "Is it okay if I enter it as 'Eliza?' I know you said people call you El, but Eliza is a beautiful name and more memorable than a one syllable nickname." I nod, handing him my phone so he can enter his. I've never really liked my full name, but it made my heart flutter to hear him call it beautiful. When he hands me my phone back, I notice he's already added his contact name. Jalen Milroe(MacroEcon). I note that the name sounds familiar to me, but I can't place where. I slip my backpack on and head out, telling him bye as I leave. If I don't hurry, I'll be late to my 12 o'clock Psych class.
