The Unlikely Resident of Room 313

Chapter 7

I didn't remember much of the alumni banquet as I went to bed. And not for fun reasons either. So much happened in such a small amount of time. Previously, I was just another person to attend the party. My parents made some introductions here and there, but I was free to do whatever I pleased. This time, I was front and center with my parents. Now as an Oracle Rusiska, I was destined to charm the pants off donors the way my parents had. I wished they'd given me a heads up. Maybe I would've worn the purple dress. I was too exhausted to go to Eric's party and he didn't seem to mind when I sent him a text that didn't receive a reply.

My dreams were filled with champagne towers and plump-belly old men gloating about the best years of their lives. There were golf trips and fake laughs and anecdotes about lake houses and summer homes. And then, right as sleep pulled away from me, I saw the face of the writer I saw in the hallway. The woman who walked campus over a century ago. I awoke before I could ask her if what I saw that day during English was real.

"Are you excited about the party today?" Zara asked when we passed each other in the bathroom later that morning. Some frat somewhere was hosting a day party (aka darty) somewhere on Frat Row.

"I can't go anymore," I sighed. The six assignments due tonight at midnight shattered the hopes of a Saturday-afternoon rager. "I didn't do anything this week and it's all due tonight."

"Come after!" 

I knew of students who went straight from a party to the library and stayed there until the sun came up. Uncle Damon said he perfected the art of doing so by Thanksgiving his freshman year of college. I didn't have the stamina, guts, or liver to try that my first week of university. And the thought of being behind by even a single assignment made me want to throw up. 

"I'll let you know," I said, trying my best to suppress the FOMO bubbling to the surface. 

We parted ways soon after, and I returned to my room to a missed call from my father. 

"Hey Dad!"

"Asteria, how are you, my love?" my father said from the other end of the line. In the background, I heard Mom bark orders into what I assumed was her own phone, her frustration clear in her voice. I felt sorry for the poor soul getting such harsh words on a Saturday morning.

Twirling a loose thread of my robe between my fingers, I jumped onto the mountain of pillows spread over my bed. There was a party tonight. Where and by whom, I didn't know. All I knew is that I wanted to show off the new outfits I bought from a boutique uptown. "I'm okay. How's grandma doing? I got a text from Anthony that Mara found her on the floor yesterday?"

Mara was the home health nurse my family hired to take care of my grandmother. The purple-haired old woman put up quite a fight when my grandfather died. According to her, she would only ever leave the home they built when it was time to join him. When Dad and his brother brought her brochures to a nice elder home near my uncle's house, she pulled out a lighter and burned them right on the kitchen floor.

"She's okay," Dad replied gravely. "Your sweet grandmother refuses to use her cane. This time she wasn't able to catch herself. They took her to the hospital to make sure she didn't break anything. But don't you worry, Asteria. She will be fine."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and pulled my robe tiger around me. The thermostat was acting up again; my room was so cold, I was certain I saw my breath a few times. There were a few knocks in the ceiling that caused the lights to flicker. I figured it had something to do with the misaligned ducts in Melody's room.

"Are you and Mom flying out today to see her?"

"Monday."

This time, the large dome light overhead flickered violently, and I sat up, one leg swung over the side of the bed, and scanned the cream walls for anything out of the ordinary. I doubted the ducts needed that much work. And on a Saturday? "Let me know if you get any updates before." A high-pitched squeal made me jump, and I dropped my phone.