Sweet Little Nothing

“Sorry,” I whisper in her wake, willing myself not to cry. This is my fresh start, and I refuse to let one mean girl ruin it.

After a deep breath, I lock my fragile emotions back into their little heart-shaped box and exit the car. As I lean back into the car to grab my messenger bag, a creeping sensation washes over me, simultaneously prickling my skin and causing sweat to bead on my hairline.

Someone’s watching me.

“Just breathe,” I mutter to myself, securing the strap of my bag over my shoulder.

Inhaling deeply, I hold my breath for two counts before exhaling. I repeat this measure twice before ducking back out of my car and peeking around.

There are people everywhere, but none of them are paying any special attention to me.

I am no one here, and I know no one here, and this is still my fresh start.

I quickly smooth down the soft jersey fabric of my favorite sweatshirt—a second-hand thing I scored from the local thrift store back home—and grab my duffel bag from the trunk. Aside from a silken stuffed rabbit given to me by my paternal grandmother at birth, my pillow, and a winter coat, all of my belongings are on my person.

Eighteen years on this planet, and all of my worldly possessions fit into two bags and a pillowcase. It’s kind of sad, really.

I keep my gaze on the ground in front of me as I make the trek across the parking lot to my dorm building.

While mommy dearest hasn’t ever done much for me over the course of my life, she managed to score me one half of a two-person suite—rare for a freshman, or so I’m told.

As thankful as I am for the privacy it will afford me, it in no way makes up for the fact that she all but pawned me, and my wellbeing, for a cushy lifestyle.

The dorm building looks more like a mountain lodge from the outside, with its stone and wood exterior, steeply pitched roof, and massive windows. Here’s to hoping the inside is as nice.

Plastered across the front, right over the grand entryway, is a banner that reads Welcome Wildcats! Beneath the banner, there’s a desk, and behind the desk, there’s a pretty redheaded girl, with a bored look on her face.

“Hey, I’m, uh, checking in.”

She perks up at the sound of my voice, her previously thinned lips are now upturned in a beaming smile. “Of course. Name and ID?”

I fish my driver’s license from my wallet and pass it to her.

“Emmalyn. That’s a pretty name.”

“Just Emmy.”

“All right, Emmy. I’m Abigail, a senior, and one of the RAs of this dorm. Not yours, though. I’m on the second floor, and you’re on the third with Melanie.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” My voice shakes, and I ball my hands into fists, digging my nails into the flesh of my palms.

She smiles a genuine smile, most likely chalking my behavior up to nerves. “Here are the keys to your room and mailbox. As I mentioned, you’re on the third floor, suite three-hundred three. You’ll take a right out of the elevator, second door.” Abigail passes me a set of keys along with a folder. “There’s a map in there, along with an itinerary of Welcome Week events.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, hating how meek I sound.

While I was never the life of the party, I used to at least be able to carry a basic conversation without sounding like a frightened child.

“It’s what I’m here for.” She tilts her head to the side, studying me. “Do you have your student ID card yet?”

“No.”

“You’re gonna want to get that ASAP. You can get it over at the tech center—it’s on the map. Your ID card is basically your life. It will get you in and out of this building, along with many others. I would highly suggest getting it today. You’ll have to be buzzed in without it, okay?”

I nod. “Yeah, yes. I’ll go right now. Thanks.”

I start to turn away, but Abigail calls after me. “Don’t you wanna put your stuff up first?”

My cheeks heat. “Oh, yeah. Sure.”

Her lips tip up in a grin. “C’mon, I’ll let you in.”

Falling in line behind her, I wait patiently as she swipes her badge in front of the sensor. The light flashes green, and Abigail pushes the door open before stepping to the side and allowing me to enter.

“Elevator is on the left, stairs are to the back right. Mel will be around, and I’m sure she will come by and introduce herself.”

“Thanks,” I say again, undoubtedly sounding like a parrot.

“No problem, Emmy. Welcome to the Wildcat fam!”

As I enter the building, I almost wish I could bottle her pep and use it to help get me through the dark days. Sure, they’re fewer than there were, but memories of what happened still loom over me like my own personal dark cloud.