Sincerely, S.H

Chapter 3

The next morning I awake with my alarm at quarter to seven, but to say I awoke is something of a falsehood. The actual even is more like a few pieces of me are yanked out of sleep, and the rest of my only partially follows it upward like the remainder of me is molasses. My eyes bolt open and my arms and legs start clumsily going about their duties while my mind lags lazily behind, only awake by the pull of my body. After a few minutes, I find myself somehow clothed, and my bag is packed for History. I check the time on my phone before leaving my room; two after seven. At least I will be on time for failure.

Stephanie is prepared for today’s assault on my life choices when I enter the common room. “I told you that you shouldn’t have taken that walk.” As always, her tone is the most insulting part of her, though in this moment I can find many reasons to be annoyed with her. Her tone suggests that we’re somehow friends and she is just teasing me, but I know the truth. She is judging everything that I do, well I’m sorry, Steph. We can’t all wake up at five in the morning to watch the sun rise and feel our inherent superiority to the apes we share a room with. We can’t all have even had our coffee by seven in the morning, and we certainly can’t all have had our hair and makeup done with a ridiculously self-satisfied grin plastered onto our faces. No, Steph, we can’t all do any of that.

Apparently my demeanor displayed my inner monolog because Stephanie suddenly looked apologetic. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rub your nose in it.” Now my expression is apologetic. Why do I insist on seeing the worst in my roommate? Sure, she has ridiculous cleaning habits and a few judgmental tendencies, but she is rarely blatantly mean spirited. And shrieking at her mentally is a bit of an overreaction to a little mild teasing of me in my current predicament. Where there was just anger there is now guilt.

“Do you want some toast?” she offers, holding up a plate of toasted wheat Wonderbread “I made extra”, her tone still apologetic. Toast, the universal peace offering, but the clock is ticking.

“No thanks.” I say a little too quickly as I rush toward the door. “Thanks anyways” I say almost as an afterthought looking back at her in acceptance of her carbohydrate filled olive branch as I swing open the door to the hallway.

Once I am through the doorway, I let the door fall behind me. The weight of the door coupled with the mechanism that causes it to close itself results in a notable thud. Passing the elevator again, I opt for swifter travel down the stairs. My heart thumps audibly as I reach the ground floor. It should take twenty minutes to get from the front door of my dorm building to my class, and I have just that much time, so I waste none of it. Walking briskly in the dim morning light, I regret my walk yet again because, in my rush to prepare to leave for class, I forgot to grab a jacket. What a stupid thing to do. The sheer stupidity of my failure to protect myself from the elements makes me feel inadequate and small like a child who made the same mistake yet again. At least here I have no mother telling me “I told you so” when I shiver. At least now there would be no shame in returning to my room and retrieving a jacket. Too bad I have no time. I powerwalk onward despite the wind and foliage whipping my face and the goose bumps testing the ability of the skin of my forearms to contort itself like plucked poultry. Today I am not the wind, I am its victim. I wrap my arms around myself to retain some of my body heat, the feel of my skin is too cold for this particular hope to survive. Regardless, I trek onward with my head down and my arms tight around me until I reach the political science building.

At 7:24 I arrive at the front doors of the building, and I release a sigh of blissful relief when I find the building well heated in contrast with the uncharacteristically chilly morning. Entering the building, the heat is a powerful force as it washes over me like a heavy rain of comfort, but by the time I exit the vestibule, I realize that the heat of the building does not quite make up for my complete lack of forethought or preparation at all. Within another minute I drop into my seat near the back of the classroom, where Nick is already seated one spot over.