All too well

Begin Again

The wheels of my suitcase rattle against the uneven cobblestones as I pull it behind me, weaving through the crowd gathered around the fountain in the center of campus. Hawthorne College is exactly what I pictured and nothing like I imagined all at once. Towering red brick buildings covered in ivy stand tall against the clear blue sky, and a clock tower looms in the distance, chiming softly as it marks the hour. Everything feels timeless, like a page out of a novel.

But it also feels… intimidating.

I grip the handle of my suitcase tighter and glance down at my phone. Hawthorne Hall, Building 3. To the right of the library. I zoom in on the map for the fourth time today, but my nerves make it impossible to focus. Around me, students laugh, call out to friends, and haul boxes and bags into buildings that look more like castles than dorms. They all seem to know exactly where they’re going.

I don’t.

“Lost, or just enjoying the scenery?” a voice says behind me.

I whirl around and nearly stumble as a girl with electric blue hair zips past me on a skateboard. She stops on a dime, flipping her board up with one foot. Her grin is wide, playful, and just a little condescending.

“Hawthorne Hall,” I manage to say, my voice sounding smaller than I want it to.

She points across the courtyard with the end of her board. “Building three. That one over there. You’ll hear it before you see it. Freshman central. Good luck, newbie.”

Before I can thank her, she’s gone, weaving through the crowd with effortless ease.

I take a deep breath and follow her directions. The building comes into view quickly, and she’s right – I hear it before I see it. The front doors are propped open, and the lobby is a cacophony of voices, slamming doors, and the unmistakable sound of wheels clattering over tile. A boy pushes a trolley stacked with suitcases through the crowd while a girl argues with her parents over where to put her new rug.

I glance down at the crumpled paper in my hand: Room 314. Third floor.

The elevator is packed, so I opt for the stairs. Each step echoes as I climb, my legs already protesting from the weight of my suitcase. By the time I reach my floor, I’m winded and sweating, but I manage to find my room at the end of the hallway.

The door is already ajar.

I step inside cautiously, taking in the scene. Half the room is a whirlwind of color – posters, fairy lights, and piles of clothes that have already spilled out of open suitcases. A girl with wild curls and a bright yellow hoodie is perched on the bed, struggling to untangle a string of lights.

She looks up as soon as I enter, her face breaking into a wide smile.

“You must be Elena! Finally!” she says, as if we’ve known each other for years.

I blink. “Uh, yeah. That’s me. And you’re…?”

“Tori,” she says, jumping to her feet and crossing the room in two quick steps. She grabs my hand and shakes it enthusiastically. “Welcome to your new home! I got here first, so I snagged the left side. Hope that’s okay.”

I glance at the neat, untouched bed on the other side of the room and nod. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Awesome. Oh, and I started working on our name sign for the door!” She points to a stack of markers and a half-finished piece of cardboard on the desk. “Thought it would be fun to go all out, you know? Make it feel like a real dorm experience.”

“Sure,” I say, dropping my suitcase by the empty bed. I sit down carefully, testing the mattress. It’s harder than I expected, and the springs creak under my weight.

Tori doesn’t seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm. She’s already diving back into her pile of decorations, talking a mile a minute about her plans for the semester. Something about art classes, late-night study sessions, and a campus-wide scavenger hunt she’s heard rumors about.

I nod along, but my mind is elsewhere. The knot in my stomach tightens as I glance around the room, taking in the unfamiliar walls, the too-bright light overhead, and the faint smell of paint.

This is it, I think. The start of something new. I should be excited.

A sharp knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts.

Before either of us can respond, the door swings open, and a boy steps inside. He’s tall, with tousled brown hair and a casual confidence that immediately fills the room. His white t-shirt clings just enough to suggest he spends time at the campus gym, and his jeans are ripped in a way that’s definitely intentional.

“Hey,” he says, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Liam. Next door.”

He glances at Tori, then at me, and his eyes linger just a fraction longer than they should.

“Elena,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

His grin widens. “Well, welcome to the jungle, Elena. If you need survival tips, you know where to find me.”

And just like that, he’s gone, leaving the door swinging softly in his wake.

Tori lets out a low whistle. “Well, that was something.”

I don’t answer. My cheeks are burning, and I have no idea why.

Maybe this place won’t be so bad after all.