January's Holiday

January

I sighed angrily at the suitcase on my bed. It was full, just begging to be stored away. I sat against it, staring at the bare bed across from me. I was getting a new roommate, and I was excited for the potential of another friend. When I realized that the new girl had to get completely accustomed to the room and I already had most of my crap there, it motivated me to finally unpack my suitcase for my second semester at Lakeside Academy.

My head shot up at the turn of the doorknob, and I couldn’t help but smile in excitement. A suitcase came in first, followed by a perky brown-haired girl. “Gwendolyn January?” she asked hopefully. I hoped that she didn’t have too much trouble trying to find the room.

I nodded and saw her relax. “Hi. Nice to meet you, um…”

“Beatrice,” she said. It was obvious she didn’t like the name. “But I prefer Bea. Bea Holiday.”

I observed her as she scooted her suitcase further into the room. She lifted it up onto the bed with a loud plopping sound. “Interesting last name,” I said lightly, trying to make conversation. I didn’t want to make the wrong first impression.

She smiled, “Yeah. My dad is a crazy Billie Holiday fan, so when he was eighteen he legally got his last name changed.”

I laughed a little bit at the realization that people actually did that. “Interesting.” I paused, “January is my family name.”

“Well, that’s boring!” she said, chuckling. “Class starts Monday, right?”

I nodded. “Eight o’clock, bright and early!” I said with fake enthusiasm.

“Yay!” she cheered with just as much ardency. I smiled, knowing I would grow to really like her. “uh, Gwendolyn –”

“Gwen,” I corrected automatically.

“Would you mind showing me around campus tomorrow morning? I don’t want to seem more like a new kid than I have to.”

I smiled, “Of course not.”

---

I liked Bea, and I was looking forward to getting to know her better. I was glad that this roommate wasn’t psychopathic like my last one had been. “That’s the courtyard,” I said, gesturing at a small pond with a few surrounding benches and a small field outside. It was snowing at our Minnesota boarding school, and I was not dressed for the weather. “It’s nicer when it’s warmer.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I think I’ll be going there quite a bit when it warms up.”

“Over there are the boys’ dorms,” I said, nodding toward a long hallway. “And here,” I pushed a door open and whispered the next part, “The library. It’s open at all hours, so no need to fret.”

We walked further down the busy hallway. “The cafeteria is to your left,” I said. “You can’t miss it – it’s labeled. Um, we found all of your classes and the best routes to take, I think we got –”

“January!” a familiar male voice yelled.

I shuddered and kept walking while Bea looked curiously toward the voice. “That’s Joe Adams.” I said, frowning, “He’s liked me since freshman year. Ignore him.”

Joe caught up to us, brushing his bangs out of his eyes and giving me a large grin. He put his arm around my shoulders and I shook it off. He walked with us, “How was your break?”

“Spectacular,” was all I said.

Bea observed with an overly-curious expression.

“Mine was good,” he said as if I’d asked him. “Lonely, but good.”

“That’s great, Joe.” I said, “I have to show my new roommate around. I’ll see you in biology.”

Once we’d lost Joe, Bea turned to me. “You don’t seem to like him very much. Why? He seems nice, and he obviously really likes you.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I didn’t know why I didn’t like Joe; I didn’t really have a reason. It was strange, as Joe wasn’t the only guy who hit on me like that. With other guys, I just shook off the feeling of flattery. With Joe, I wouldn’t let it come through. “I don’t know,” I finally admitted.

She shrugged it off. We walked further down the hallway and in the direction of the girls’ dormitories. Suddenly, she stopped cold. “Who is that?” she asked quietly.

I followed her gaze to a boy that was sitting alone at one of the indoor benches. “That’s Nick Jonas,” I said. “Not to burst your bubble, but pretty much every girl is after him. He’s the one of the few attractive, straight, single, nice guys here. He’s in your grade though, I think. Junior?” I was a senior and at the point in my high school career where nothing else besides graduating and getting into college mattered. I’d already been accepted to NYU on a full volleyball scholarship; this semester would be a piece of cake.

She nodded without looking at me. “Wow. They definitely don’t make them like that anymore.”