Love You More

Chapter 5: Callie

I'm in a fit of hysterical laughter as I listen to my parents sing "Despacito" by Justin Bieber. My dad is absolutely butchering the Spanish part but boy, is he singing his heart out.
"Dad, you do realize we are Italian, and you can barely sing in English, let alone Spanish."

My mom has tears running down her eyes she is laughing so hard, and I realize in this moment that I am really going to miss moments like these. They know just what I need when I'm upset.

I am radiating excitement, and I'm not nervous in the least bit to begin my college journey, especially since Kenna is also attending UPenn. My lips turn up at the thought of her loud voice yelling from my dorm window to hers. Even better, we have basically the same schedule because we both have athletes preference when picking schedules. She plays field hockey, too.

I don't like to toot my own horn, but I had a pretty stellar senior year for field hockey. That being said, I did receive a pretty hefty scholarship to play in college, and I am more than happy to stay close to home. and being the first one in my family to go to college, I figure that the transition will be easier if my parents are just a train ride away.

Ever since I was a little girl, I have wanted to be an elementary school teacher. Maybe it's my only-child syndrome kicking in, but I absolutely adore being around little kids. I know that I had some judgey teachers that thought I was wasting an Ivy League education on becoming a teacher. I'm not.
I won't lie, I may have grown up a little sheltered. My parents are strict, and old fashioned, but everything I am is because of the decisions and sacrifices they made for me. I've never drank a drop of alcohol in my life, never smoked a cigarette, never even really participated in the high school party culture.

It's not like I was unpopular in high school, and stayed inside at all times doing my homework and twirling my hair. I was homecoming queen, captain of the field hockey team, and Colton was an all-star quarterback for our school, the Tennett Tigers.

Being away from Colton during my first year in college will be the first time we've been apart since seventh grade math class. To be frank, UPenn's football team sucks, so obviously I support his decision to attend a better college for football - and academics aren't exactly his strong suit, to say the least. It's only a three hour drive away, and we obviously are going to FaceTime every night.

"Cals, we're here," my mom says softly, snapping me out of my trip down memory lane.
I look out the window and play with my silky golden hair that coined the nickname "Goldilocks" in high school. I stare back into my mom's green eyes, which mirror mine, and before we've even taken a step on the brick road towards my dorm, we're both crying.
Hand in hand, we approach Hill College House, my freshman year dorm assignment. The brick tower that I would be living in for the next year seemed to reach the sky, and my family and I walked along the slate-colored stone bridge, crossing to my future.

I did my research before persuading my bestie to choose this housing. Hill House was built 58 years ago, without insulated walls, air conditioning or adequate elevators. Not so appealing.

What is appealing, is the 80 million dollar renovation that was finished last semester. I will be walking into college with housing that included six study rooms, a club room, a gym, and an art studio. Kenna and I know we need to make new friends ASAP, and we figure having the coolest housing on campus couldn't hurt.

I don't know why, it could be that I was used to the 1,000 people in my entire high school, tops. But I definitely wasn't prepared for the seemingly 700 other freshman moving into the same exact dorm as me. There were carts flying everywhere, people steering them to their floor like it was some sort of rat race. Is this what Ivy League is like? This is only the athletes, too. Kenna and I get to move in early.

"Cals, I'm gonna go hunt down one of those cart things that everybody seems to have and begin loading your stuff onto it. Room 376, right?" My dad questions.
"Thanks Dad, Mom and I will hunt down my keys and get checked in. Then we'll come down and help you load stuff."
"On three, we'll break. One-two-BREAK" My dad takes off in a goofy sprint, and even though I should probably be embarrassed, I'm totally not. My parents rock. My boyfriend rocks. My best friend rocks. What more could I ask for?