Become

"My sisters go to Boston University," I began slowly, avoiding eye contact with the high-tech camera approximately four feet in front of me. "My parents graduated from Boston University, and so did their parents, and likely their parents as well. Do I really have a choice in the matter? If you don't enroll me, I'm sure you'll be paid off and forced to."

"Viviana London," my mother scolded, shaking a finger sternly at me. I didn't have to look up from my booted feet to know it was waggling in front of my face. "I will rip out that sharp tongue of yours and nail it to the wall! Take thirteen, from the top."

* * *

The short drive from my parents' home in the pricy area of Boston to the Boston University campus felt like a form of torture. My father hummed happily while my mother jabbed at the "seek" button with her bedazzled finger to scan through the satellite radio, causing half-seconds of awful, generic pop music to play disjointedly for the full twenty minutes. Had it been any other day than my move-in day, Mr. Ashton would have driven me in the town car and I wouldn't have had to suffer through the uncomfortable and awkward silence of my parents pretending to care. Oh, they cared about me all right, but gaining admittance to Boston University met the expectations of the youngest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Cross. I would have to do far more than attend a university to exceed those expectations.

"Your sisters are already waiting at your dorm," my father announced, checking his phone for texts at the final stop light. "They're all excited for you."

"No they aren't," I replied blandly, looking out of my window in the back seat. "They know I'm your favorite and if they were anything but excited, they might expect to see their allowance money dwindle significantly." My mother shot me a look, but her husband tossed his head back as far as the headrest would allow and laughed.

"That it would," he agreed, and the first smile of the day spread across my face. "Dermatology, Genetics, Law and Theater. What a bunch I've ended up with. Such smart girls, all of you."

He pulled the Mercedes into the parking lot and inched along past the crowds of undergraduates and their parents. After parking in a VIP space closest to the dorm rooms, I climbed out of the back seat and into the crisp autumn air, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my black trench coat. Burberry, of course; nothing but the best for Mr. Cross's favorite daughter. The weather still felt too warm for a scarf, even though I did favor the red check border scarf with this coat. I tugged the upright collar closer to my neck anyway.

My father wore one of his better suits today, but omitted the vest. My mother, as always, dressed in white and the latest fashion with her favorite red-bottomed heels. My sisters and I all received a pair as a rite of passage on our eighteenth birthdays. Mine sat in an untouched, dusty box.

"I took the liberty of updating your wardrobe," my mother said nonchalantly as we entered the building I would call home for the next four to six years. "Your father will make sure you have money to add your own little...accessories..." Her mouth twisted around the word. She hated my love of dark, plain colors.

Despite my family's wealth, part of our journey to become true ladies of the Cross family was to attend Boston University like the rest of our ancestors. That included living in dorms with roommates, earning good grades and graduating at the top of the class with honors. If we faltered, it meant being cut off. I trotted up the stairs just behind my parents, keeping my gaze as far from the other students as possible. It was difficult with the halls and staircases packed with students moving in, and soon enough my sisters and new roommate waited in the already unpacked dormitory.

"Viv!" my sisters cried out in near unison and I braced myself for the hugs. My sisters and I had nothing in common. Penelope, the oldest, was starting her third year in Dermatology. Chloe and Blaire were twins; Chloe studied Genetics and Blaire studied Law, both in their second year. My major would be Theater, and while B.U. wasn't the top school in the world for it, it was competitive enough and like I tried to explain in my application video, I didn't have much of a choice. I was the first Cross to venture away from science, politics and law. I wanted to write plays and act, not sit behind a microscope or argue with a judge to defend a murderer.

"Chloe, Blaire, Penny," I greeted, patting each of them half-heartedly on the back or shoulder. "I just saw you at dinner last night."

"But you're here now," Penny said, letting go and putting her fists on her hips. "Mom? Dad? It's time for you to go. Viv needs to meet her new roommate and you're both standing there awkwardly." Our father cleared his throat, gave me a quick hug and wished me good luck. Our mother simply waved and followed him out.

"Does she have to show her disappointment so blatantly?" I asked no one in particular, glaring at my empty doorway. I turned my attention to Penny, the only sister I took seriously, and sighed. "You can't convince me to go to family dinners because she's experiencing empty nest syndrome."

"No one said you had to go," Penny said, lifting an eyebrow. She gestured to the girl who had gone unnoticed, sitting cross-legged on her narrow, neatly-made bed. Her dirty blonde hair hung just past her shoulders, straighter than an arrow, framing a pretty face and blue eyes. She wore a red zip-up Aeropostale sweatshirt and B.U. Athletics sweatpants. Her fingernails and toenails were painted a bright green and she wore little or no makeup at all. Jane Austen's "Pride and Prejudice" and "Emma" rested on her small nightstand next to an ashtray, a pack of Marlboro Menthols, a green Bic lighter, a plain black lamp and a generic alarm clock with the incorrect time blinking in red on the front. As soon I looked over, she waved.

"Hi," she greeted plainly. "I'm Raine Humboldt. You must be Viviana." Raine straightened her legs out and popped her knees.

"Soccer?" I asked, and she smirked.

"Am I so obvious?" she retorted, still smirking.

"Everyone is," I answered, and removed my coat to hang on the wall. It really wasn't cold enough outside to be wearing a coat. "My guess is you're a goalie, or you wouldn't smoke. Your nose has been broken at least once, and most likely not from a soccer ball each time. You also have a dog at home."

"Viv, stop."

"No one wants to listen to you brag about your observation skills."

"I'm sorry, Raine, she watches those stupid detective shows ritually--"

"It's okay," Raine interrupted, holding up her hands. "Everyone can have their weird traits. It could be worse. Do you mind smoking?" My three sisters knew when they were being silently asked to leave. Penny made sure to tell me to call her later, and Blaire and Chloe told me to meet them at dinner to discuss a frat party I was expected to attend.

"I don't mind at all. Do you like the piano? I play when I have writer's block."

"I love the piano. I stay up late." A twinkle shone in her blue eyes, and I matched her smirk.

"So do I. I'm short-tempered, annoying and self-centered."

"I'm selfless, loyal and I get along with everyone even though I'd rather be alone."

I reached out my hand, and she reached out hers to shake it. She reached for her pack of cigarettes, put two in her mouth and lit them both. She passed one to me and I took it.

"Here's to the next four years, roomie," Raine said, and relaxed on her bed, putting her arms behind her head and closing her eyes, her menthol cigarette barely clinging to her lips.

So my journey at B.U. began.