Maraschino 🍒 (gxg)

2

Norris led Chelsea and Sandra over to the dorm buildings in front of the rec center. Like all of the other buildings on campus, they were large, rectangular, red brick buildings with ivy climbing up the walls and clogging the gutters. It all reminded Chelsea of a very stereotypical boarding school you see in movies.

"The dorms are categorized buildings A through D, with two floors in each building," Norris said, walking up the cement steps of one of the buildings. "Ms. Dawson's dorm will be in building D, on the second floor."

They made their way into the lobby and up the stairs. There were portraits of former administrators and teachers hanging on the walls. Most of them were wrinkly old men. Figures.

Norris stopped at a door in the middle of the second story and knocked. Someone on the other side of the door shuffled around, and a girl with short dark hair and dark eye makeup opened the door. She beamed a smile upon seeing Norris. "Hi, Mr. Norris! Is my roommate here?" Her voice was high and overly cheerful, like a child trying to impress their teacher -- Chelsea has to repress the urge to roll her eyes.

Norris grinned at her, his mustache bending over his lips. "Yes, this is Ms. Chelsea Dawson." He turned to Chelsea. "This is Carlie Boston. She'll be your roommate as you two strive down the road to excellence and success. She's a wonderful student that will turn into a fine woman."

The girl, Carlie, looked to Chelsea with that cheesy grin still on her face. She put her hand out for Chelsea to shake. "Great to meet you!"

Chelsea gave her a contemptuous look and a quick shake of the hand. She didn't say anything in return; the happy-go-lucky attitude was making her more uncomfortable by the minute.

"Your belongings should be in your room, too, Ms. Dawson," said Norris, peeking inside the room behind Carlie. "Unless any of you have further questions, that will conclude the tour."

Chelsea shook her head, trying to get a look in the dorm she'd be staying in. She could see one half of the room -- Carlie's side -- that had a few posters on the walls and perfumes sitting on a dresser.

"I think we're all set, thank you, Mr. Norris," said Sandra, then looked to her daughter. "If you need me for anything, Chelsea, give me a call. I'm only about an hour away." Her voice was shallow, unenthused, her priorities elsewhere. Not surprising.

"I know, mom."

"Alright, then. Carlie, if you don't mind, could you tell Chelsea a little more about the school?" Mr. Norris asked, placing a hand on her shoulder with a small squeeze. Carlie nodded eagerly. "It was very nice meeting you, Ms. Dawson. I'm looking forward to getting to know you better. I'll see your mother to her car now."

Norris and Sandra turned and went back the way they came in. Once they disappeared down the stairs, Chelsea stood there in the hallway. She wasn't exactly sad to see her mother go, but there was something in her heart that twinged as she watched her leave. After a few more moments of lingering, Chelsea finally turned to enter the room she'd be living in for the next eight months.

Carlie was sitting on her bed, her legs bent with a magazine propped on them. She didn't look up as Chelsea entered. On the other side of the room where Chelsea's things were, her suitcases and toiletries had been placed on her bed, like room service at a hotel. She wandered over and tossed her skateboard she was still carrying on the floor in front of the bed and started rummaging through her things to start putting them away.

"Are they gone?" Carlie suddenly spoke up, closing her magazine and sitting up straight. Her voice had been knocked down a couple pitches and was considerably lower than before.

Chelsea slowly turned to face her. She also didn't have the annoying teacher's pet vibe anymore; her dark eye makeup made her look pissed off and ready to stab someone if they looked at her wrong.