Megan
Oh My God. It's absolute mayhem.
Holy mother of sweet fudge, there are teenagers everywhere. Upon observation, everyone ranges from ages sixteen to nineteen, all of them in thick sweaters or jumpers and pants and leather boots.
I blink twice, my brown eyes sweeping my surroundings: I guess almost everyone here are college freshmen like me. Some of them are on their phones, either standing against a wall or wandering the second floor.
Others are carrying stacks of cardboard boxes into specific rooms, while the rest look like they're getting acquainted among themselves, making friends, most likely.
Am I jealous? Yes, yes I am. It must be nice, hitting it off with complete strangers instantly.
I can hear my brother's voice inside my head: You can do this, Shark! You're sweet and caring and people are crazy if they don't see how amazing you are. It's do or die! Now or never! Come on! Do it do it do it do--
"ALRIGHT! I GET IT!" I yell, covering my ears, my fat elbows bumping something hard.
"What the fuck?" a girl swears. I whirl around in shock, one chubby elbow hitting her in the face. She cusses again. "SHIT! That hurts!"
"I-I'm so sorry!" I stammer, dropping on my wide knees to help pick up her cardboard boxes which had fallen to the linoleum floor.
"Don't bother! I can do it myself," she snaps, her lime green eyes glaring at me.
"N-no really," I insist, struck by her beautiful face. "I want to help.." I'm so distracted, I accidentally step on her foot, earning an angry "OUCH!" from her.
The pretty long-haired blonde grits her teeth, her jaw taut as she furiously meets my brown eyes. "First, my boxes," she seethes. "My face, then my foot. Haven't you done enough damage?!"
All eyes are on us. I can feel the heat on my cheeks. "I-I'm sorry," I stutter.
"You're such a klutz!" she fumes, collecting her cardboard boxes before standing up.
A white flash goes off. As the blonde storms away from where I'm kneeling, I crane my thick neck left and right, spotting a couple of people holding out their phones.
It's just like Senior Prom..
"Out of the way, fatty," a guy snarls, kicking the sole of my shoe. "Your giant body is blocking my path."
"S-sorry," I mumble while rising off the cold linoleum floor.
I'm so stupid. What did I expect? That I would receive a warm welcome the minute I arrive in New York? No matter where I am, or where I go, people will always point and whisper.
"God, did you see that girl? She's huge!" murmurs a lanky guy close by.
Two brunettes in white turtlenecks and denim midi-skirts take one look at me and snort, giggling as they brush past me and enter the same dorm room.
Don't cry don't cry don't cry, don't you dare cry, Megan Era Young Hernandez. I find a quiet, secluded corner, pull the zipper of my pink suitcase open, and take out a folded piece of white paper. Thank God I put all my school documents in this suitcase.
Zipping it up, I drag the pink suitcase across the linoleum floor, the wheels soundless as I search for the room assigned to me. I struggle to ignore everyone as they locate their respective doors.
2-Z.. 2-Y.. 2-X.. There are so many doors.. It takes a while for me to find.. There it is. 2-J.
I lift my fat fist to knock, but someone bumps into me from behind. "Watch it, you ugly cow!" the girl snaps before stomping off.
YOU ARE READING
Shine, Dream, Smile
Ficção Adolescente"I think everyone's broken in their own way."
