This series is to be published!!
Thank you to everyone who has supported the story from the beginning!
The published version differs from this version, but I'll leave this version up for now.
I will update those who are interested in reading the f...
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Then, there was no more small-town world, and I was now in the Big Apple, crossing over a bridge of uncertainty.
After a two-hour ride, I stretch my legs out of the truck. The school-designated complex looks to have numerous older students living around. When we drove past the campus, I saw those lucky freshmen who had their dream dorm, all excited.
Lucky them.
I try not to frown at the complex's state from the outside. Sometimes, what is inside looks better.
Claudia jumps at the sound of the police, firefighters, and ambulance sirens soaring past and the horn they use to get other brave drivers out of the way. Having a car in New York is worthless, considering the traffic we had to sit in, but it's a huge city, so I get it.
And I beg to differ, saying the inside of the apartment looked better. We stand inside the complex numbered four twenty. I drop my suitcase at the sight of it all. The white brick walls are thin, and we can hear the neighbors and the city outside. It's a change I have to adjust to. The living room feels narrowly congested, with bunches of lounging furniture and a small flat-screen TV for entertainment.
At least It's not as small as I imagined. I have to get used to the brown leather furniture and the cracked wood floors. Claudia's fingers grip her nose when she comes in with my bags, taking in the awful smell of cigarette smoke.
"Great, I have to deal with you being around cig smokers," she groans, looking over at the tray of ash and cigarettes on the small coffee table. Her nose wrinkles in a displeasing way, as if she had never picked up one in her life.
She is the type of aunt in her thirties, single, and with her own design company. She always told me that she and my mother learned from their mistakes when they were my age—or at least she learned, and my mother couldn't grasp the lessons thrown at her.
She even told me once that she used to smoke and go out all night drinking at parties with my mother but stopped when she got arrested. So, to avoid ruining her career and reputation, she changed while my mother remained the same.
Now, she pressures and expects me to do better than they did.
How she looks around makes me feel like I will regret this. My face falls in disappointment, and I let the bags slip through my fingers because of my steady focus.
What did I sign myself up for?
I expect at least a city view to see some of the lights. At least, that's what the website said when I obsessively checked it. But I can't let it get to me. My mother would say, 'With unknown adventures come great things.' When saying it, she was drunk. But it still matters to me.
"Air freshener would help," I thought, pulling it out of my bag and spraying it around. But the more I spray, the worse it gets.
"You're destroying my sense of smell." Claudia yanks the freshener out of my hand. The smell didn't falter, so I guess my candles would do the trick. I reckon my room was the empty one at the end of the hall, right in the middle of my roommates.
