Words I Might Have Ate

-----------------------------------------------------------------

“What’s our room number again?” Faye asks, adjusting the box on her hip as we open the door to the second floor.

We step into a rather unimpressive white hallway with seemingly endless rows of brown doors. I look down at the paper in my hands and scan for our dorm room number once again. “202,” I answer, looking at the door to my left. The number was 200, so our room should be the next one.

Sure enough, the next door on the left side of the hallway had a tiny white plaque with the numbers ‘202’ written in black blocks. I dig through my pockets for the key that the girl at the registration desk had given us and use it to open the locked door.

The door swings back to reveal a small room. I step in and immediately throw my suitcase onto an open bed as I look around me curiously. Somewhere behind me, Faye is setting her box down on her bed and busying herself with examining our home for the next eight months.

It really wasn’t all that big. There was enough room for two beds, two desks, two bookshelves, two closets and a miniscule bathroom. The walls were blindingly white and though I knew that within a few hours, the room itself would be nice and cozy, I couldn’t help but feel a bit saddened at the lack of life the room seemed to have. It smelled strongly of cleaning supplies and disinfectant, an odor that stung my nose.

“Home sweet home,” Mom strolls through the door, carrying two suitcases and a lamp. She quickly deposits my bags on my bed and sets the lamp down on a bookshelf. She sighs a bit as she looks around the room. “With a few rugs and some pictures, I’m sure this place could feel exactly like home.”

Dad walks into the room, carrying some of Faye’s suitcases and a box of her things. He silently places them down on the ground and glances around him before nodding and placing his hands in his pockets. I smile at how quiet my father is and from across the room, he notices and returns my grin.

Finally, Mitchell, my little brother, struggles through the door with a rug under one arm and a potted plant in the other. He drops the rug to the ground and shoves the plant onto the bookshelf next to the lamp, his forehead glistening a bit with sweat. “That rug is ridiculously heavy.”

“Thanks Mitch,” I say softly as Mom puts her purse down on my bed.

“Boys,” She slips into bossy, mother mode and rounds upon my father and brother. “Go back out to the car and get the rest of their things. The girls and I have some rearranging to do.”

Both my father and Mitchell gratefully slip through the door as Mom turns around with a brilliant smile on her face. “Now comes the fun part. How are you going to place the furniture?”

“I was thinking about putting the storage bins under our beds,” Faye begins, rolling up her sleeves as she looks around the room. “The bookshelves can go flat against the foot of our beds and so that leaves room for the desks to flank the door.”

Mom nods as she follows Faye’s directions in her mind. “Well it’s going to be a tight squeeze, but I think we can make it happen.”

By the time Mitchell and my dad finish bringing up all of our things from the car, Mom and I have managed to push all of the furniture into their desired spots and roll out the rug between our beds. Faye is busy rooting through one of her boxes for the bed linens that she had packed while Dad runs a rough hand over the walls.

“I think we can hang your pictures up,” He announces, stepping back. “We can just putty the holes up at the end of the year. No one has to know.”

“Charlie,” Mom says reproachfully. “You can’t just put holes in the college’s walls.”

Dad looks over at me, winking inconspicuously so Mom doesn’t notice. “It’s college. Let them have their fun. I’m sure no one’s going to freak out over a few photos hanging in their dorm room.”

Mom hesitates and Dad takes that as the go ahead to bring out the hammer and nails he had packed. As he and Mitchell busy themselves with hanging up the picture frames, Mom bustles over to my bed and takes the sheets out of my hands.

“I’ll do this,” She says softly, her voice sounding oddly strained. “Who knows when the next time I’ll be able to put my baby’s sheets on her bed will be.”

I let her gently push me out of the way as she begins to make my bed. I sink down onto the floor and slowly begin to place my clothes in the plastic, colorful storage bins that I would stow under my bed. Faye joins me on the ground as she begins to fold her clothes and put them in her own bins.

Nearly an hour later, our dorm was as finished as it was going to get. The beds were neatly made and our clothes were hanging in the closets. Mitchell had put up a shower curtain with fish on it in our bathroom and Mom had stocked a few extra bins with snacks that was proudly sitting on top of my closet. There was a potted plant on the windowsill and already, the bookshelves were filled with books and notebooks and other school supplies that we would need throughout the year.

Mom crushes me to her, hugging me so tightly that I thought I would never be able to properly draw in a breath again. “My baby girl,” She whispers, kissing me on the cheek. “I want you to call me at least once a week to tell me how things are going. Don’t hesitate to call me more often though. Your father put some extra money on your student card and there’s some more money in your wallet. If you need anything, I can have it on your doorstep in two days.”

“Mom, I’m going to be fine,” I say awkwardly, trying to squirm out of her grasp. “It’s just college.”

“But you’re going to be eight hours away from me,” Mom’s lower lip trembles suspiciously and she blinks misty eyes as she looks down at me. “I’ll have to get on a plane to see my baby girl.”

“I’ll be home for Thanksgiving break,” I remind her quietly as she finally releases me. “But I’ll miss you too, Mom.”

She stares down at me, her eyes glittering with unshed tears before she moves onto Faye, enveloping her in a bone crushing hug as well. I look up to see my dad standing next to me with a small smile on his face.

“You’re a smart girl, Rilla. I know you’ll do just fine up here. I’m proud of you,” He concludes simply, hugging me tightly.

I wrap my arms around his warm body and squeeze him to me. That’s when my eyes begin to sting with tears. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Bug. You can always come home anytime you want to,” He whispers into my hair. “Try to enjoy your first year of college. You only get to experience this once. So go crazy, have fun, make friends. I trust you enough to know when to party and when to study, alright?”

I nod, too choked up to respond to him anymore. He finally lets go of me and smiles cheerfully at me before moving to hug Faye. I feel strangely empty as I watch Mom rush around the room, straightening a few things up and gathering together her things. I was going to miss them, no matter what I do.

“Do you think I’ll be able to come up and visit you?” Mitchell asks quietly from my left.

I turn and see him watching my mom with amused eyes. I nod, crossing my arms over my chest as I watch Dad rub Mom’s back comfortingly. “Yeah. Just let me know when and you can come up.”

“Think you can take me to some college parties? Maybe introduce me to some college girls?” He presses on, trying hard to hide the excited grin on his lips.

I pause, torn between letting him know that I would probably very rarely go to any college parties, let alone know any crazy college girls. But I recognize the attempt on his part to bond with me so I nod slowly. “Sure. I’ll invite you up during spirit week.”

This time he can’t hide the wide smile that appears on his face. He nods, trying to play it off and remain the cool varsity football player that he was back home. “Awesome.”

By this time, Dad has unwrapped Mom’s arms from Faye and has gently guided her towards the door, trying to calm her tears down and get her out of our room. I shoot him a smile as I walk towards the door.

“Bye Mom,” I hug her once again and drop a soft kiss to her wet cheek. “I love you.”

Mom immediately hugs me back, her arms an anaconda vice around my body. “Oh I love you too, baby girl.”

It takes Dad nearly fifteen minutes to calm down Mom enough so that she can walk out to the car respectfully. After one last round of goodbye waves, he and Mitchell disappear out into the hallway, leading my mother towards the exit.

Faye sighs as I close the door and collapses back onto her bed. Her eyes immediately close as she stretches out, her arms behind her head.

I slowly sink down onto my own bed and sit Indian-style as I look around me interestedly. This room was going to be mine for the next eight months of my life. As terrified as I was for the upcoming school year, I knew deep down that I would make some good memories here with my best friend and hopefully with some new friends, as well.

We still had a few weeks before actual classes start. As incoming freshman, we were required to come in a little before the actual term starts so we can orientate ourselves with the campus and get a feel for how things work before the university was overrun with returning students.

“There’s a mixer down in the cafeteria at six o’clock,” Faye says suddenly and I jump upon hearing her voice, having been so caught up in my own thoughts.

I look over to find her going through all of the brochures and papers the registration desk had given us a few hours prior. “What’s it for?”

“All freshman,” Faye shrugs and tosses the brochure at me. “I guess just to meet some new people and realize that we’re all scared silly. Do you want to go? They’re serving free dinner.”

“Sure,” I hand her back the pamphlet after glancing over it. “It’s what, three thirty? We have some time to kill.”

Faye nods, closing up her folder and tossing it to the end of her bed. “Do you want to go out and look around Berkeley? I hear there’s some really cool places to hang out.”

“Okay,” I stand up and grab my sack bag before I swing it over one shoulder so the strap cuts across my chest. “What do you think there is to do around here?”

She shrugs as she stands up and pushes her shoes back on. After grabbing her keys and stuffing them in her own bag, she opens our dorm room and we step back out into the hallway. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out then, won’t we?”

We lock the door behind us and take the stairs down to the ground floor, passing by the banner that was strung across the building’s face--‘Welcome Class of ‘97’. There’s a group of kids huddled around the registration desk, busy signing in and finding out who their dorm-mates are going to be for the rest of the year.

I’m overwhelmed with thankfulness that Faye and I had requested to be roommates. I consider myself to be a pretty adventurous person sometimes, but to have to share living space with a virtual stranger for eight months of my life scared me. At least I had someone familiar to come home to at the end of the day.

Faye and I talk quietly as we begin to explore the streets of Berkeley, stumbling upon clothing shops, music stores, restaurants and a tiny library. Less than four blocks away from Berkeley’s campus was a decently sized park that reminded me of Dad’s orchards back home. I could already tell that I’d be spending a lot of time here under the trees, dreaming and escaping from reality.

After a quick pit stop at an ice cream store for some creamy vanilla scoops to enjoy, Faye and I gradually made our way towards the Berkeley Bay, a three and a half mile walk. With three blocks left to go until we reach the bay, I can already smell the salt in the air and unconsciously quicken my steps so we can reach the ocean more quickly.

“Jesus Rilla,” Faye laughs as she hurries to catch up with me. “You’d think you were anxious to get to the ocean or something.”

I slow my pace down and laugh as she falls back into step with me. “Sorry. I just want to see the ocean, you know how much I love it.”

“I know.” She’s quiet for a few moments and we step out onto the boardwalk, the soft roar of the ocean already ringing in our ears. We walk down the pier and stop at the railing, leaning up against it and watch the waves crash into the sandy beach rhythmically. “Does it remind you of home too?”

I nod and finish off my ice cream. “Is it sad that I miss home already and we’ve only left yesterday?”

“No,” She replies, throwing the base of her cone into a trash can. “I miss home too. I miss your dad’s orchards already and the feeling of comfort I had knowing that we were in a familiar place.”

I feel the increasingly familiar sting of tears in my nose and I blink hurriedly to keep them away. “We can go home in a few weeks, you know? For a little visit anyway. I’m sure they’d like to hear all about college and everything.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you,” Faye begins suddenly, staring unblinkingly into the ocean’s dark water. “How jealous I am of your family.”

I freeze, my hands still gripping the old wooden railing tightly. “What?”

“Your family, I’m jealous of them. Back in the dorm, they were all huggy and upset that you were leaving them. When I said goodbye to Dad, he waved me off and gave me a couple hundred dollars to tide me over until Christmas.” Faye shrugs, turning around and leaning up against the railing. She crosses her arms over her chest as she watches people mill about all around us. “I love my dad to death but sometimes I just wish he’d be more responsive to me. He doesn’t show emotions well and he gives me everything I could ever need but… sometimes it’s just nice to have a father figure.”

“You know my family thinks of you as another daughter,” I state in a low voice, still looking out into the harbor. “Their tears and kisses were just as much for you as it was for me.”

“I know,” She sighs, looking down at the ground. “It’s just sometimes I wish my own family was like that.”

I’m at a loss with what to say to my best friend so I settle instead on reaching over and touching her arm lightly. She recognizes my weak attempt to comfort her and a tiny, sad smile appears on her face.

I can’t tell you how long we stood in silence on the pier, watching the waves of the ocean roll in. It was nearly six o’clock by the time we rouse ourselves out of our respective reveries and begin the long trek back to campus so we could attend the mixer. The whole walk back I spent wondering if my family knew just how much I appreciated them.