Turn

2

That morning was a flurry of activity as Virginia and Catherine attempted to get themselves ready for their first day of classes. Catherine stated with a great deal of authority that your first "real" day would determine the rest of your year's successes and failures. That meant having the right outfit, a good hair day, and makeup done to perfection. For Catherine, that meant her hair in bouncy curls and eyeliner to emphasize her already catlike eyes. She dressed in a white crop-top and a high-waisted, blue and white patterned skirt, which she paired with casual blue wedges and silver jewelry. Only then did she turn to see what Virginia had chosen.

She wore a simple, flowing black tank top and army-green, skintight jeans. Her necklace had half a dozen, progressively lengthening, silver strands and a winding chain of gold that wove through it. Virginia had a black hat with a wide brim all around her head from which her loose, blonde waves spilled, and she wore black, strappy sandals on her feet.

"Okay, you definitely don't need my help," smiled Catherine, looping her arm in with Virginia's. "I have been waiting for a friend with real fashion sense my whole life!"

Her roommate knew that was high praise. As the clock ticked to 8:50, the pair set out from their room together, since they serendipitously had their required, Intro to Literature class together in the library. Catherine said hello to a total of thirteen people on the five-minute walk—Virginia counted—compared to Virginia's two. But Catherine paid it no mind and just kept chatting with her roommate, spilling way too much of her opinions and feelings and history than she should have for how long they'd known each other. But it was charming at put Virginia at ease, making her feel like they had always been friends. Virginia guessed that was due in large part to Catherine's dynamic, open personality that well complimented Virginia's quieter one.

They found the classroom, 201, with little difficulty and stepped inside. The room was nearly empty of people and the chairs were arranged in a circle with a gaping hole in the center.

"This looks like an AA meeting," hissed Catherine.

Virginia smiled as the two of them took a pair of seats in the far corner. Each chair had a small desk you could pull up, and Virginia did that before setting out to observe the rest of the room. There were a few other occupied seats, but no one that she recognized. A scowling, stout, dark-haired girl a few seats down, a lanky, glasses-clad boy a few more away, a pair of smiling girls who were dressed in the same shade of pink as they whispered back and forth.

As the clock ticked past the next few minutes more people started to trickle in and a redhead named Hadley took the seat on the other side of Virginia. She was someone that Virginia had met during one of the many, awkward orientation activities designed to help you make friends. But Hadley had seemed nice enough. The three girls struck up a conversation about classes, hometowns, majors, the usual introductions of college freshman.

"I could never do Pre-Med," laughed Catherine. "I hear it's impossibly hard here."

"This is one of the best," Hadley looked a little ill at her own remark, but she still smiled. "I just hope I'm good enough."

"I'm sure you are," said Virginia reassuringly. If she wasn't, she wouldn't have gotten into the program in the first place.

Suddenly, there was an uproar and Virginia looked back up.

The disheveled-looking professor, who Virginia estimated to be in his mid-forties, slammed his overflowing binder down on his desk. He was wearing a white dress shirt and blue and white striped tie with a pair of too-loose khakis. "I know this class is titled Intro to Lit, but it should be called 'Jim Hardwick's Guide to Life and Pissing People Off'. I'm Jim, by the way."