OneA Chapter by T.M. LoftisChapter 1
I’ve
been saying goodbye to people and places my entire life. You’d think I would be
used to it by now. I was six when I said goodbye to the idea of ever knowing my
real father. I was ten when I said goodbye to my mom, our little family, and
the home we had created together. Now I am eighteen, about to begin the next
chapter of my anything but normal life, and trying not to bawl like a baby at
the thought of telling my Uncle Oliver goodbye. It
shouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? At some point in time everyone has to
spread their wings in order to see what life has to offer them. But this is
Uncle Oliver, my Uncle Ollie, the guy who selfishly gave up his bachelor lifestyle
to take in a ten year-old girl after her mom died in a tragic accident. It
wasn’t that long ago that we sat "all to quietly" facing each other on the
threadbare, faded rug in his living room floor, tears washing both of our faces
after my mom’s funeral and wondering what life would throw at us next. I can feel the swell of tears and pain and the raw emotions of memories building inside of me, threatening to erupt. Daring to show the world, to show me, that I’m not as strong as I think I’ve become. He is the only family I have left and I am about to crumble. Ugh…Come on, Cailan. Put your big girl panties on and"Suck. It. Up. “Cai,
are you alright,” he asks while struggling to get the last and heaviest of the
boxes containing my belongings out of the bed of his old beat up Ford. He’s had
that old, blue truck for as long as I can remember. He refuses to give up on
it, saying that it is the steadiest relationship he’s ever had. I can’t blame
him for wanting to keep it all these years, we both know all too well how
quickly life can change. When you have something that holds the memories of a
lifetime, you do all you can to keep it. The fear of letting something so
precious go and losing the memories along with it is insurmountable. “Huh?
Oh yeah, I’m..I’m good,” I murmur half-heartedly as I regain focus and catch
his crystal blue eyes staring worryingly at me, in the way they often do. His
brow furrowed. He can tell I’m lying. We had spent too many years together
living in his tiny two bedroom house, diligently working to put all the
shattered pieces of my life -our lives- back together, for him to not know that
I wasn’t sincere. Aside from my mom, he’s the only person I know that can read
me like an open book. Most days I don’t have a problem with this. But right
now, I wish I could close the scarred covers of my soul and hide my frayed pages
from his knowing eyes. Uncle
Oliver dropped the heavy cardboard box on the curb beside his truck and moved
closer to me. Taking his cap off and tossing through the rolled down window and
on to the dashboard of the truck, he peers down at me and runs his hands
through his mess of sandy blonde curls. He smiles as he places his hand
steadily on my shoulder as if he’s willing his calmness into me. I can’t
help but to let those scarred covers that bound my emotions, the covers I’ve
meticulously crafted over the past eight years, open just the slightest bit
when he is around. He
steps back and leans on the tall handle of the dolly. “You look so much like
your mom when you get lost in your thoughts like that,” he says in his calm,
smooth voice. “Fiona always had that look in her eyes, like she was here but
living in a world a million miles away at the same time. She was a dreamer,
your mom. It was like she knew secrets that no one else knew and lived in the
worlds where those secrets dwelled. She was always lost in thoughts of what
could be.” He
leans forward and furrows his brow again, a few sandy blonde curls fall over
his eyes. His crystal blue eyes meet mine and it feels as if he is searching
the pages of my frayed soul for a truth I’m not even sure exists. “Cailan,
you’re worrying about this. About all of this,” he spreads his arms in a
gesture. “You will fly here, you will own this place. You’re fearless,
strong, and smarter than anyone I’ve ever known, including myself " and you
know how smart I am,” he quips, smiling boldly. “You’ve got this.” My
eyes break away from his blue stare as I try not to let the tears come pouring
out. I quickly scan the goings-on around me as I will that scarred and worn out
cover to slam shut again. There
are hundreds of students with their parents scurrying around amidst the mess of
boxes, furniture, and other various belongings. The sound of possessions
tearing through the bottom of an overfilled box and scattering across the
cobblestone pavers echoes off the granite walls of the surrounding buildings.
It looks and sounds much like controlled chaos. Move in day is in full force. Despite
the chaos, nobody else looks like they are about to have a full-on meltdown in
the parking lot. Get a grip, Cailan. I
force myself to return my eyes to Ollie. The sunlight is glinting through the
strands of his messy, soft curls making him look as if he is young enough to be
a student here. He is only thirty-two and very handsome in his own right. In
fact, his six foot-two inch frame with slender muscular build, combined with
his boy next door charms and general good guy qualities, have been the objects
of many girls’ sights while we’ve been standing here. He
has had plenty of beautiful women try to date him throughout the years that
I’ve been with him, but he hasn’t returned the interest. To the best of my
knowledge, he hasn’t had a serious relationship since he was an undergraduate
student himself. I guess having an orphaned, head case of a niece living with
you will do that. “I
know, Ollie, but it’s not just that,” I say as I try to figure out a way
to put all the thoughts and feelings swirling around in my brain into words. Uncle
Oliver stands silently, watching me with soft eyes, knowing that I need the
moment to gather my thoughts. “I
know that I am good with books and am smart enough to handle my course load.” I
suck in my breath and let it out just as quickly. “College is actually the
least of my worries,” I say quietly. Uncle Oliver’s sympathetic gaze remains
steady on me. “I
guess what I am trying to get at is that I’m worried about you.” He
opens his mouth to retort but I cut him off before he can begin. I need to get
this out of me and it needs to happen now. I am usually very good about
slamming the covers and stifling any show of emotion. But for whatever the
reason may be, that ability has left my high and dry today. I feel bare and
raw, like my carefully concealed pages are being ripped out one by one and read
to all of the world. “I’m
worried about the fact that you’ve spent the last eight years of your life
taking care of me and not really ever taking care of yourself. I’m worried
about who is going to buy the groceries, who is going to check the mail, who is
going to make sure the bills get sent off in time, who is going to water the
garden and make sure everything doesn’t die in the million degree heat of the
summer. I’m worried about who will make sure that you have a decent dinner each
evening and not some frozen contraption or microwavable noodles. And mostly, I’m
worried about saying goodbye to you, Uncle Ollie.” My voice breaks on his name. I
do my best to choke back my tears and keep my voice steady. I fix my eyes on
some loose gravel on the ground and push it around with my foot, doing anything
I can to avoid meeting his eyes. “You are the only family I have left. I know I
rarely express my feelings and my gratitude to you, but I love you. I can’t
bear the thought of saying goodbye to you, watching you drive away today, and
never really seeing you again. I’ve said goodbye too many times in my life. I
don’t want to ever say goodbye again.” I
huff a breath out as the heavily bound cover carefully containing my feelings
flies open with a vengeance. Tears well in my eyes, threatening to spill over
the rims. Great, Cailan. Great. Now everyone is going to see you
crying like a baby in the parking lot. Furious
at myself for allowing tears to form, I kick the pile of loose gravel towards
the truck. Oliver straightens from leaning on the dolly,
steps around the boxes, and embraces me in a giant bear hug. His arms tighten
around me to the point where it is difficult to breathe. My cheek is pressed
tightly against his chest. The soft knit fabric of his t-shirt collects my
tears as I silently weep. He
leans back slightly so that he can speak, his hand gently cradling the back of
my head. His voice is soothing and tender as he speaks. “Cai,
I love you and I swear to you that when I drive away later today it will not be
forever. You and I are each other’s family, we’re all we’ve got. The truth is
that I needed you these past eight years as much as you needed me. I learned
how to be strong in the face of adversity because of you. I had no idea
what being an adult really meant until you came to live with me. I’ve probably
done more growing up in these past eight years than in the entirety of my
life.” He
steps back slightly and places his hand on my shoulder. I finally muster enough
courage to meet his eyes. He gently wipes away a single tear as it rolls down
my cheek. There
is a shadow of a grin on his face. “And quit worrying about me and how I’ll
survive in this world all alone,” he says lightheartedly. “Believe it or not, I
do know how to work that fancy contraption known as a microwave. Also, I’ve
been known to make a mean grilled cheese sandwich.” He flashed a broad smile
and winks. I can’t help but to wonder
how many times that exact move has played into his favor in the past with other
people. “That’s
exactly why I’m worrying about you! You can’t survive on frozen macaroni
and sandwiches forever,” I say while playfully rolling my eyes. I can feel the
heavy cover to my pages slowly closing as the urge to cry gradually disappears. “Let’s
make a deal, Cai.” “Okay…”
I suck in a deep breath. “I
will text you a picture of at least one of my meals each day so that you know
I’m not starving. And as far as all the other stuff goes, I promise I can adult
well enough to handle it.” A
half smile forms on my face. “Also,
I won’t promise that all the plants will be living the next time you come home,
but I do promise to keep your Agave alive.” I
laugh as I let out the breath I had been holding. My worries aren’t completely
gone, but at least I am comforted in knowing that he still wants me in his
life"and in knowing that I will still have a home there. “Thanks,”
I say as a feeling of relief rushes through my veins. I
have to admit, I am also relieved at knowing he will try to keep my Agave
alive. My mom bought it for me when I was seven during a weekend getaway to
Santa Fe. It was tiny then, in its small white container. I took careful care
of that Agave throughout the years, transplanting it into larger pots as it
grew. About two years ago it was finally large enough to be transplanted into
the ground of the garden at Uncle Ollie’s house. That
Agave is a living memory I have, reminding me of both my mom and myself. It
grew steadily and faithfully and has always been something I can look at and
remember her by when I feel like my memories are beginning to fade. I guess it
is my version of Ollie’s old truck. I
also feel like I can relate to that plant in a way. Much like me, it is stoic
in appearance and a bit rough around the edges. However, once you get past the
hardened exterior, it bleeds just like everyone else. Yeah,
that’s me"Cailan RiCae Murray, the girl who finds a kindred spirit in an Agave.
Spines and all. Oliver’s
blue eyes grow larger as he adds humorously, “Oh and by the way, you are
right…” “Right
about what,” I ask, a smile forming. “About
how I can’t survive on frozen macaroni and grilled cheese sandwiches forever,”
he says, his dimples showing with his grin. I
arch a brow. “Oh, really?” “Yes,
really,” he states matter of factly. “There’s green chile, too. One cannot
survive on grilled cheese sandwiches and macaroni without green chile.” I
snort while rolling my eyes. He does have a point. Green chile is kind of a
necessity and his smug smile shows me that he’s well aware of the fact that he
got me on that one. “What
do you say we get these boxes loaded on the dolly and go get you checked in,”
he asks. “Sounds
like plan,” I reply. I feel better now. The heaviness has lifted as the scarred
covers that bound my emotions"that bound me"have finally closed. We
begin with the heaviest box first. Oliver struggles to get his arms around the
cardboard and lift up one side of the box as I quickly slide the dolly platform
underneath it. He
straightens, wiping the sweat off his brow with his forearm. “What in the hell
do you have in this thing?!” I
shrug. “Oh, you know, just stuff. Books mostly.” “Books?!
Isn’t college where you go to get books. Why would you bring books with
you?” I
nod my head while chewing on my thumb nail. “Yes, technically you do go to
college to get books, but these are books that I need that aren’t
textbooks. They keep me company. They’re kind of like all the friends I never
really had.” He
doesn’t press the subject any further, he knows now what they mean to me. “Alright,
but I may break my back before we make it to your room,” Ollie quips while
bending to grab the second box. “I am getting exceedingly fragile in my old
age.” At
that, I can’t help but laugh. Uncle Oliver is anything but fragile. We
get the third and final box of my belongings stacked on the dolly. It looks
like a major catastrophe just waiting to happen. I hope all of my belongings
aren’t about to end up scattered across the sidewalk with people trampling all
over them like the last poor soul’s. It
takes everything Ollie has to pull against the handle of the dolly to get it to
lean back. “Let’s
go,” he says, his voice sounding strained. “Before we end up being sidewalk
roadkill. Death by giant tower of cardboard boxes doesn’t sound too appealing.”
With
that, I grab his cap off the dash of his truck, stick it lopsidedly on his mop
of curls, and lead the way to the dorm hall. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aspen
Springs University, home of the Stags, is a very exclusive college nestled in a
valley of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains just outside of the village of Red
River, New Mexico. Why anyone would build a university in the middle of
nowhere, next to a village with literally one street, is beyond me. But
nonetheless, it is breathtakingly gorgeous here. Aspen
Springs is known for its rigorous academics and highly touted faculty.
Considering there are just under 2,000 students here, the campus is actually
spacious and grand in stature with its sprawling courtyards and gothic style
architecture. It
seems that the alumni of this place spare no expense when it comes to the
monetary donations they make. Every nook and cranny of this university screams
money. From the marble floors in every building to the granite gargoyles
nestled among the spires seemingly watching all areas of campus, no details
were left unfinished. The
only reason I am even able to attend a university like this is because I am
actually pretty smart. I graduated as valedictorian from my small high school
class in Mesa, New Mexico and scored a thirty-four out of thirty-six on my
college entrance exam. With my grade point average and test scores I was able
to receive a full academic scholarship. The
village of Red River is a ten hour drive north from my hometown. I had numerous
offers and scholarships to attend other universities much closer to home, but
Aspen Springs has always been my dream. My
mom graduated from Aspen Springs and I grew up listening to her stories about
all of the adventures and good times she had here and I fell in love. Our
weekend getaways we would take to Red River when I was a child are some of my
best memories with her. She was always so present here. That far away gleam in
here eyes that she often wore seemed to disappear when she was here. Red River
made her happy. Despite
the memories, the scholarship, and the fact that Red River is absolutely
stunning and picturesque, the main reason I chose to attend Aspen Springs is
because when I am walking through this campus I can feel my mom. It is
almost like she is here with me, walking beside me, taking in all the sights
and sounds. It just feels right. It feels like home. We
near the entrance of Wheeler/Walter Hall, a coed, suite style residence hall
located in what I believe to be a prime spot on campus. It has views of the
beautiful mountains and a pristine lake on one side and the other side
overlooks the expanse of green, manicured recreation fields. “Well
if I remember correctly from orientation, I think this is the door that gets us
to the main office downstairs” I say as my eyes follow the granite bricks
upward to view the carved letters fastened on the dark stone wall. They
read: Wheeler/Walter Halls I
hold the heavy glass door open as Uncle Ollie struggles to pull the loaded
dolly over the threshold without losing anything and cautiously glance around. This
place is crawling with people! I’ve never seen so many people and so many boxes
in such a tight space in all my life! I look at Uncle Ollie, he must have be
thinking the same thing because his blue eyes are the size of dinner plates. This is going to take FOREVER. Oliver and I stand in the foyer of the
residence hall as we try to gather our wits. The longer we stand here not
moving, the more crowded the space is becoming. Student after student with
their parents are filing in the door, and with each student comes even more
boxes. I can feel the claustrophobia creeping up my spine and threatening to
crumble me right here. I’m not used to situations like this. Large groups of
people make me extremely uncomfortable. I
quickly start scanning the area for any information I can find that may point
me in the right direction for check-in. I see a large sign with an arrow
pointing towards a set of stairs to our right. It
reads: Wheeler/Walter Hall Check-In This
Way I
tap Ollie on the shoulder and point towards the sign. “Uncle
Ollie, I’ll go downstairs and do the whole check-in thing if you can stay up
here with my boxes,” I ask while noticing a slight look of shock"or possibly
terror"forming on his face. “Uh,
yeah Cailan. Like hell am I gonna move them downstairs, back up here, and then
to wherever your room is,” he says sounding a bit on edge. I’m very fortunate to even have him here
helping so I choose my response wisely. “I’m sorry, Ollie. I didn’t know it was
going to be like this in here and I know I probably haven’t been much help so
far today…I’m sorry.” I force my eyes to meet his, aware that he has gone above
and beyond for me. “It’s
me,” he says as his breath rushes out of him. He takes his cap off his head and
runs his fingers through the curls. “You know I don’t do well in large groups
of people.” I know, he and I are alike in that feeling. The thought of being
trapped is petrifying. I
toss Uncle Ollie a knowing look. “I’ll just brave the masses and go on
downstairs to the office now. If you don’t hear from me in the near future, it
will probably be because I croaked from being smushed between boxes of
belongings and the wall. Pray for me.” I place my hands together in silent
request. Ollie
chuckles. “Good luck, Cai. I’ll be here, holding up this here window,” he says
as he leans against the glass of one of the large picture windows spanning the
foyer of the residence hall. His cap is now turned backwards, making him appear
even more as a college student. He digs his phone out of his back pocket and
begins scanning through it. Turning,
I make my way towards the stairs leading down to the spacious office. Even
though this is the basement, there are a row of floor to ceiling windows that
span the length of the room, looking out to a small amphitheater and courtyard.
There are various pieces of polished furniture and plush leather chairs placed
throughout. The gleaming hardwood floors are adorned with rugs of various sizes
and textures. It looks as if it would be a quaint study spot. It
is anything but quaint right now. There are four lines full of students
and parents all waiting to get to the front of the large room where the actual
office portion is housed, which is located behind large window-like openings in
a wall. I
take my place at the back of the line forming at the third window. I can’t tell
exactly how many people are ahead of me, at least twenty, possibly more. Sighing
softly to myself I pull my phone out of my back pocket and snap a quick photo
of the amount of people ahead of me. Scrolling to my messages I click Uncle
Oliver’s name and send him the photo captioned: And
you think you have it bad! He
replies almost instantly: Damn!
Guess I better bust out the tent and sleeping bags! A
few people in the line turn to look at me as I laugh out loud to myself.
Feeling a little self-conscious I return my attention to my phone, still
smiling to myself. You
might as well set up your grill. You could make a killing from selling food
here! I
hold my phone, staring at the screen until it goes dark. The line begins to
move and I make my way a whole three feet! I can now see more of the front
desk. However, I still can’t even see the people working each line. His
reply finally comes: Not
a bad idea. I may need the extra cash to even be able to afford to buy a pencil
from this place. Grinning
to myself, I reply with a “thumbs up” icon. He’s probably right though, I’m
going to have to find a job if I am going to live somewhat comfortably here,
even with my scholarship. I
slide my phone back in my pocket as the line starts slowly moving forward
again. I take the opportunity, while inching forward at a snail’s pace, to
glance around at the people in the room. This
main office serves both sides of the residence hall. Wheeler is the girls’ wing
of the complex and Walter is the guys’ wing of the complex. Both wings are four
stories high and join on one end by a large dining hall. They utilize the same
basement which houses this office as well two laundry rooms, one for the girls
and one for the guys. Wheeler/Walter
Hall is the largest of the residence halls on campus and the only one with
suite style rooms. I was surprised to find out I had been placed in one of
these rooms. They are typically reserved for pperclassmen. I’m also sure that
money speaks around this place, and seeing as how I am a scholarship student
who is flat broke compared to others around here, I got really lucky. I should
be in one of the much smaller residency halls with the tiny, cramped dorm
rooms. Looking
at all of the people standing in the four lines, I quickly notice that I am not
alone in my feeling of being overwhelmed. Guys and girls alike all have similar
looks on their faces, wide eyes full of apprehension. The reality of the
situation beginning to sink in. My
eyes keep roaming, taking in the people around me. I’m way out of my league
here. Designer luggage and handbags are everywhere, their fancy logos silently
competing with each other in battles of who splurged for the bigger price tag. I
look down at my small leather cross-body. It is beginning to patina and is worn
in places, but I love it. It holds everything I need and it certainly didn’t
cost an eighth of what the other bags around me cost. The
line begins to move again. The
majority of the students in my line are girls. As we inch more closely to the
office window, I notice how many of them begin to dig out mirrors and lipgloss
from their fancy bags. A few begin to primp their hair. The
girl in front of me turns around. She is a petite, little thing. It looks like
a small wind gust could knock her right over. She has just finished fluffing
her wavy blonde hair. “How’s
my mascara? It’s not smudged, is it?” There’s a sense of urgency in her voice. “No…uh,
you’re good,” I reply apprehensively while looking at her kohl rimmed eyes. I
still have no clue what this is all about. Standing
up straighter and silently reveling in the fact that at five foot-nine inches I
am the tallest girl in my line, I crane my neck trying to see the front of the
line and the possible reason for this sudden and strange behavior from these
girls. Oh. My. God. Standing
in the window serving my line is the most beautiful creature I have ever laid
eyes on. No wonder these girls are all going crazy. They don’t make guys like
this where I’m from. In fact, I’m fairly certain guys like this don’t exist in
real life. The stress of the day must have finally gotten to me, causing my
brain to fabricate this dude into existence. This
guy is strapping. He has to be at least six foot-three, maybe taller. If there
ever was a definition for tall, dark, and handsome, he’s without a doubt it.
Even from this distance, I can just feel his commanding confidence
radiating off of him. Don’t get your hopes up, Cailan. Mr. Tall, Dark, and
Handsome is a bad boy"its obvious. You have no chance with that. Realizing
that my inner-self is more right than I’d like her to be, I decide that I don’t
need to join in the silly primping and preening festivities because I will
never even be a blip on the radar of a guy like that. Never. So, don’t even waste your time thinking about
it. The
line begins to move again. I am now a whole four people away from this guy, who
I shall refer to in my mind as Mr. TDH. The
girls all around me have their sole attentions focused on him and him alone.
They are waging silent battles with each other, trying to see who can score the
first smile, first word, first date with Mr. TDH. Continuing
to watch them with faint amusement, I reaffirm myself that I don’t need to join
in the madness. One, because my long and stick-straight auburn hair is tied
back in its usual pony tail. Two, because I wear the bare minimum of makeup,
today being no exception. And three, because it’s obvious he is the type of guy
that can have any girl he wants, and I am so not that girl. You’re also as flat as a board. A guy like that won’t
even look twice at you. You look like a twelve year-old compared to these other
girls. Stop thinking about him! The
line is moving again, I am now one person away from speaking to this guy. Is he
a student here? He looks like he may be around the age of twenty-one or
twenty-two. He could be a student here… STOP!! You’ve gone too far already. YOU KNOW BETTER! I
want to tell my inner-self to go jump off the mountain, but I know she’s right.
The
girl in front of me is putting on one of hell of a show, blonde hair bouncing
softly around as she plays with it while speaking to him. Mr. TDH doesn’t seem
to care about her efforts. He is strictly business. Grabbing her room key and
information packet, he has her sign her name on a few documents. Handing the
packet and the key to her, he efficiently goes through a well-rehearsed speech.
“Here
is your room key and an information packet, should you need anything please
contact this office or your RA, welcome to Aspen Springs,” he recites in a
dangerously smooth voice, a lop-sided grin on his lips. The girl pauses for
just a moment, waging an internal battle with herself. She looks as if she is
going to say something else but deciding against it she turns and walks away.
Defeat is written across her face. Velvet. His voice sounds like velvet. And he’s about
to talk to me! Oh holy hell on fire, I’m next. “Next
person please,” he states coolly while flipping pages on a clipboard. I
take a few shaky steps towards the window. Looking up from the clipboard, his
eyes lock on mine. They are the richest blue I have ever seen, bordering on
black. If midnight were a color, that is what his eyes are. There are thin
silver circles surrounding his pupils, making them look like starlight on a
midnight sky. I could stare at them forever. A
tiny spark rips through my veins. The rest of the room disappears. It’s just
me, Mr. TDH, and his beautiful eyes. Goosebumps dot my skin and my pulse begins
to quicken. I can’t force myself to break away from his stare. Those eyes… He
clears his throat, snapping me from the trance. A shadow of thought passes
quickly over his eyes and disappears. Whatever he is thinking he is not fond
of. He
furrows his brow slightly and thins his lips into a stone-straight mask. The muscle
in his angular jaw twitches. A piece of his inky, dark hair caresses his
forehead as he leans forward slightly. The harsh fluorescent lighting of the
office is making strands of it shine with what appears to be the same midnight
blue shade of his eyes. “Name?”
His voice is deep and harsh and tinged with frustration. Swallowing
nervously I reply, “Cailan Murray.” His eyes widen briefly before the stone
face mask returns just as quickly as it left. “Sign
on the yellow highlighted lines on pages four and six,” he asserts without
looking at me. Back to Mr. Business so quickly are we? Yeah, let’s
just pretend that whatever it was that just happened, didn’t. Well played, Mr.
TDH. Jerk. The
pen he has in his hand falls clattering on the counter and he glares at me. My
eyes follow his hand as he moves to pick up the pen. I can see the design of a
intricate tattoo just beneath the sleeve of his shirt on his left forearm. It
looks like a scrolling sword of some sort. The faint tingle in my veins sparks
again. I meet his eyes, the silver ring seems to radiate for a moment. What the… Looking
away from the intensity of his glare, I sign my name on the final page. Before
I can even dot the “I,” he slams my packet and room key down on the desk in
front of me. I jump as this startles me. I can feel everyone in the room
staring at me. “You’re
on the third floor, suite 320, side A.” His voice is menacing. He straightens
his posture, crossing his arms. His full height combined with his powerfully
muscular body and broad shoulders would have been intimidating to any other
girl"to any other person"but for some reason I’m not subdued. His muscles tense
in his arms causing the pitch-black fabric of his shirt to stretch slightly. Oh yeah, real nice. Way to be the dude who tries to
intimidate a girl who has done nothing to him. You’re a real winner there, Mr.
TDH. Picking
up my packet and room key and summoning a bit of courage, I stand up straight,
meet his glare, and smile a big and bright smile. “Thank you,” I quip with a
fake sugar glazing my words. “Have a good rest of your day, don’t work too
hard.” His
mask of stone breaks with a slight twitch of his jaw. I
grab my packet and key, turn quickly, and weave my way through all of the
people still staring at me. Don’t look back. I
don’t look back, but I can feel the heat of his midnight scowl blazing through
my spine. Picking up my pace and not really caring about bumping into others, I
make my way back to the stairs. What the hell just happened? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Racing
to the top of the stairs, I turn the corner and see that Uncle Ollie has held
true to his words. It looks as if he hasn’t moved from his place by the window
at all. I also notice that several of the girls I saw downstairs have now
placed their attentions on him. He stands scrolling through his phone,
completely oblivious to this. “Hey,”
I rush to him, the rubber soles of my old white chucks squeak on the polished
marble floor of the foyer. I’m still completely unnerved about the situation
that happened downstairs but am trying hard to conceal this. He
looks up from his phone, “Oh hey Cai, you’re alive!” Shoving
his phone back in his pocket and still utterly unaware of the throng of girls
watching his every move, he straightens from leaning on the glass. “What’s
wrong with you,” he asks, a puzzled expression on his face. A
certain set of midnight blue eyes creep into my mind. Don’t give that
guy any more of your thoughts or time. He doesn’t deserve them. Starlight
on a midnight sky… Enough, Cailan! “Nothing,
I"uh, I’ve just had all of the lines and people I can take,” I reply, shaking
my head trying to dismiss the thoughts in my mind. Grabbing
my backpack and a small overnight bag, I look at Ollie. “What do you say we get
outta here and go find my room? We’ll have to catch the elevator, it’s on the
third floor.” “Waiting
on you,” he replies with a small smile and a tinge of sarcasm. Laughing
a little to myself, I roll my eyes and turn around to lead the way. After
waiting for what seems like forever again, we make it into the elevator
and up to the third floor. The elevator doors open to reveal large squares of
the black and white marble floor, gleaming from the sunlight filtering through
the windows at each end of the hallway. I
pause for a moment before exiting the elevator, feeling bad about steering the
dolly over the beautiful floor. Looking down the hallway, I notice that there
were a few people moving their belongings into rooms, but nowhere near the
amount of people that I had seen in the foyer and basement. They must all be
spread amongst the other floors. “I’m
in 320,” I say to Ollie as I help him get the dolly load of heavy boxes across
the threshold of the elevator. “You
lead the way,” he motions towards the rooms leading down the hallway. I
set off walking, my pigeon-toed feet are again squeaking on the sparkling clean
floors. We pass an ornate, gilded mirror hanging on the wall between two of the
suites. Catching a glimpse of myself as I walk by, the feeling that I so
don’t belong here slams me. Layered strands of my hair have come undone from my
ponytail are falling around my face. My grey tank top and faded denim shorts
have spots of grime on them that rubbed off of the boxes and on to me as we
were unloading Uncle Oliver’s truck. No wonder Mr. TDH was looking at you like you just
rained on his parade. Instantaneously,
a vision of those starlit eyes flutters on the fringes of my mind.
Shaking my head and trying to clear the thoughts from it, I turn to the right
finding 320 above one of the heavy, polished wooden doors. “This
is it!” Excitement traces my voice as I fumble with the key. Finally getting
the door unlocked, I push it open. My jaw drops at the sight of my suite. It’s huge!
Nothing at all like a typical dorm room. I
turn to look at Uncle Ollie. Awe plasters my face as I fail to find any words.
He heaves the dolly through to doorway letting the base hit the ground with a
thud. Whistling first, he opens his arms wide and spins in a large circle in
the middle of the main room. “This is amazing!” “I
know!” Disbelief washes over me in waves. I seriously cannot believe that this
is where I get to live! The
main room of the suite is clad with polished, dark wood floors. There is a
large, plush, and very expensive looking black leather sofa along one wall. A
stone fire place is built into the wall across from it. Flanking each end of
the sofa are two plush black leather chairs. There is a creamy white shag rug
on the floor in front of the sofa and a sizable flat screen television hanging
above the mantle of the fireplace. Two large floor to ceiling windows flank the
fireplace, giving way to a breathtaking view of the lake and mountains. From up
here, you can even see a tiny bit of the main road of Red River, peeking
through the aspens and pines. The
hardwood floors continue on into a kitchen housed at the back of the suite. It
is small, but it has everything I can possibly want or need considering that
there is a dining hall here as well. The sleek, dark wood cabinets are offset
by the gray and white swirls in the granite countertops. There is even a
refrigerator and oven in here! Walking
back out of the kitchen, I look at my uncle. “Can you believe this,” I exclaim
with a bit of a squeal. “Who goes to college and gets this as a dorm
room?!” “Apparently
you do,” he quips dryly. I know he is just joking. “Oh, by the way, I’m moving
in with you.” “Haha,
I don’t think they’ll go for a guy living in a girl’s dorm. Besides, I don’t
think I would go for my uncle crimping my college style. I don’t care how cool
you are,” I remark. Ollie
places his hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded. “You’re crushing your
poor uncle’s soul,” he cries out dramatically. Rolling
my eyes, I step around him and make my way to the door for room A which is
housed directly between the main room and the kitchen. I
open the door and can’t believe my eyes. I’m still reeling from the main room,
I can’t even begin to process what I am seeing now. My bedroom is enormous. It
is carpeted with a soft, thick, cream colored carpet. There is a queen size bed
centered against one wall. Its bedposts made of the same dark polished wood
found throughout the suite. Another plush black leather chair is positioned in
the corner next to the floor to ceiling window. I walk over to the window to
look out. Ollie follows me. “Beautiful
view, isn’t it,” he asks. “It
looks like one of your photographs on your blog or in one of your guides, it
doesn’t even look real,” I reply as I continue to gaze out of the
window. This scene is nothing short of breathtaking. My bedroom window
overlooks the main recreation field with the picturesque Sangre De Cristo
Mountains as its backdrop. The vibrant green grass of the rec field runs into
the towering aspens and pines and creates a postcard right outside my window. “I’m
definitely snapping some shots from this window before I leave, besides we need
to document everything you do here. You only get to be in college once. You’ll
want to remember every second of it,” he says while smiling softly at me.
Sunlight trickles through the window and reflects in his eyes, making the
crystal blue almost iridescent. Smiling
at him, I turn and continue to scope out my room. There are two doors on either side of my bed.
I open one door which leads into a decent size walk-in closet. I’ve never had
a closet this big. I know I will probably never be able to fill a closet this
large, but the thought of it brings a smile to my face. Walking
back out of the closet, I notice that there is decent size desk with a large
bookcase next to it, positioned on the wall across from my bed. I
have died and gone to heaven. This can’t be real. It just can’t. First the main
room, then the bedroom and closet, and now this. My books are going to look so
pretty lined up on that bookcase… “No
way!” Oliver’s exclamation snaps me back into reality. Where is he? “Where
are you,” I question while walking towards the door on the other side of my
bed. “Bathroom…huge…,”
his voice is muffled. I
open the door and find him. I thought this place couldn’t get any better. Boy,
was I wrong! The
bathroom is very spacious. Its sleek black and white marble floor matches the
floor in the hallway. There is a large shower with the fanciest shower head
I’ve ever seen. It must have all those functions that make the water do all
sorts of different things. Along the wall there is granite topped vanity,
swirling with the same grey and white colors found in the kitchen countertops. I
see that there are two sinks and I realize that there is another door on the
opposite wall which must mean that my roommate and I share this bathroom. I’m
not going to complain about this though. I mean, sharing a humongous bathroom
with one other girl can’t be that bad. Uncle
Ollie removes his cap and runs his hand through his curls. “Cai, you’ve hit the
jackpot here.” Smiling
from ear to ear I screech, “I know!” “I
wonder if your roommate is here yet?” “I
don’t think she is, I don’t hear her.” “Do
you know her name?” No. That jerk downstairs didn’t tell me. “No,
it may be in the packet I got at check-in but I haven’t opened it yet.” I
walk towards the door leading to her room and reach for the handle thinking it
will probably be locked. Click,
it opens. Pink.
Pink and glitter have exploded everywhere. I haven’t seen this much pink in my
life. I cautiously step into her room. Her bedspread is hot pink, the pillows
are various shades of pink and there are glittery black sequins on a hot pink
and black throw blanket. Just great. One
of those roommates. I
sigh heavily to myself. At least we don’t have to share the same bedroom. “She’s
not here,” I say to Ollie. Relief washes over me because I don’t want her to
see my initial reaction to the pinkness of her room. I want to make a
good first impression and start things off right with her. I can’t take a year
of fighting with a roommate. I’m determined to make this experience the best
that it can be. “Well,
maybe she’ll come back soon,” he ponders while taking one last glimpse into her
room. I’m sure he is thinking the same pink thoughts I am. “Yeah,
maybe. Let’s go unload my boxes. It’s getting late and I know you need to get
on the road.” He
places a hand on my shoulder. “Cai, I’m here as long as you need me.” “I
know, but I really don’t have that much stuff to unpack, and I don’t
want you having to drive through the mountains late at night. It’s not safe.” He
puffs up his chest. “I’m a grown, adult man. I can handle a little drive
through the mountains.” I
narrow my eyes at him. “Okay,
okay. I know"I’ll leave soon. Like you said, nobody wants their uncle crimping
their college style,” he says, using air quotes to mock my earlier
statement. I
sigh, “what am I gonna do with you?” “What
are you gonna do without me,” he remarks with a wink. I
follow him back out to the main room. Picking up my overnight bag and backpack
from the chair I had tossed them in, I make my way back to my room. Ollie
wheels the dolly loaded with my boxes to my bedroom door. “I don’t want to go
any further, I’d hate to put tire marks on this expensive looking carpet,” he
says as he looks around. “Yeah,
that’s probably a good idea.” I toss my bags on my bed. “Alright, I’ll help you
carry them in here and we can just set them on the ground over here by the
desk.” I help my uncle get all of the
boxes into my bedroom. I still can’t believe this place. I will have a lot of
adjusting to do. “I
can get them unpacked. It’s really not that much stuff. I just have to get a
few things I left in my car and then I’ll be all set,” I offer while Ollie
pulls his phone from his pocket. “Well,
let me get a picture or two before I leave, you’ll want these someday. Who
knows, maybe I can use them in my next travel blog. The Enchanted Circle area
is always a huge hit when I feature it,” he states as he swipes through his
phone and opens the camera app. Smiling,
I watch him. I am really going to miss him. A lot. Perfect, Cailan. You were doing so good with the
emotions thing and now here you go again. Don’t be a cry baby. My
inner-self can be a little witch sometimes. I’m
doing my best to keep the lid on my tears. I can feel the dreaded tug on my
pages again. I really hope I don’t cry for the second time in the same day. Ollie
points to my bedroom window. “Go stand in front of the window and push the
curtains to the side so we can get the full view of the mountains and field
behind you.” I
do as he asks and turn to face him. He has his phone ready to snap the shot. “Alright,
on three…One, two...” I
smile a big and heartfelt smile that reaches my eyes. “…three.”
He snaps the picture and then looks at his screen. “It’s
perfect.” He speaks softly, studying the picture. I
take the phone from him and look at the picture. It is perfect. The green of
the field and trees are in stark contrast to the crisp, blue summer sky. The
coloring of the sky makes my blue-grey eyes pop, and I look so happy. I
am happy. I’m the happiest that I have been in a while. I have a really good
feeling about this place, despite Mr. TDH. “Send
it to me?” I hand Ollie his phone back. “Done,”
he says as he attaches it to a text and hits send. My phone buzzes in the back
pocket of my shorts. “Got
it, thanks.” He
and I stand in silence for a moment. I think about how the longer I stand here,
lost in my thoughts, the quicker the tears will return. “Hey Uncle Ollie, I got
something for you,” I say, walking over to my backpack and unzipping the top
zipper. Reaching in, I pull out a t-shirt and hand it to him. He
holds it up in front of him. “You didn’t have to get me anything but thank you.
My first Aspen Springs University shirt"can’t wait to wear it!” His smile
reaches his eyes. Ollie
unfolds the shirt and holds it up. It is navy blue with Aspen Springs
University and the Stag logo printed in gold across the front. I saw it
when I was here earlier in the summer for orientation and thought it looked
like something he’d wear. “You’re
welcome, you don’t have to wear it if you don’t really like it. It won’t hurt
my feelings.” “Are
you kidding, Cai? I love it. I can’t wait to wear it all around Mesa and brag
about my niece.” A
grin spreads across my lips. “I
have something for you, too,” he says while reaching into a pocket on the side
of his cargo shorts. He pulls out a delicate silver chain with a small, round
turquoise pendant on it. He holds it up in the sunlight now shining brightly
through the bedroom window. I can see the rich color of the stone with its
veins of gold and jade running through it. My chest tightens with a sudden
realization. “It’s
your mothers,” he says as he walks over to clasp it around my neck. He
pulls my hair out of the way and clasps it around my neck. I look down at the
precious stone as the covers of my emotions fly wide open again. “It’s
beautiful, Uncle Ollie.” My voice trembles with raw emotion, “this is the one
mom always wore. I looked for this for a long time after the accident, and I
couldn’t ever find it. I finally gave up and just assumed it was lost
somewhere.” “I
was going through a box of her things not too long ago and came across it. It
was sitting in the bottom of a shoebox beneath some old pictures she had of you
and her. I’ve been through that box a dozen times but I never saw it until the
other day.” A
glint of tears forms in his eyes. I
struggle to find the words to express what this means to me. “This
is a piece of my mom that I thought I was never going to see again.” My words
choke out of me. Tears fall freely down my face now. I warp my arms around
Uncle Oliver’s shoulders and embrace him in a tight bear hug. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you… After
a few moments of me sobbing on his shoulder, I take a small step back. I place
my hand over the precious pendant and whisper thank you to him. “You’re
welcome, Cai. God, you look so much like her…,” his words fade away from him as
he gets lost in his own thoughts. I can see the tears gleaming in his eyes
about to spill over the rims. He
clears his throat, trying to remain strong. “I guess it’s about that time. I
better get on the road so I can be clear of these mountain roads before it gets
too dark. I want to try to make it to Santa Fe and stay the night there.
There’s a bookstore in the square there that I want to hit up before I head
back down to Mesa. Can’t pass up the idea of finding a unique piece to enrich
the minds of our town’s youth with,” he says as his tears fade. On top of
running a travel blog about New Mexico and being an avid photographer, Ollie
teaches history at the high school in Mesa and is the head track coach. I
manage to laugh at his comment and point out, “weren’t you the one who was just
complaining about my book obsession?” He
raises an eyebrow and shrugs his shoulders. “Yes, but I’m a teacher so it’s
justified. I’m not an eighteen year-old that should have better things to do.” “Ha.
Ha. Ha. At least I have a broader view of the world than most others my age,” I
say pointedly. “True,”
he nods his head slightly in acknowledgment. “I
guess this is goodbye, then,” I say, straightening my posture and looking him
in his eyes. “No.
No, don’t say that.” “What?
Goodbye? But, you’re leaving so…” “It’s
true that I’m leaving, but don’t say goodbye. Goodbye is permanent. And
if you remember our conversation earlier, then you know that I still need your
help, even if you are ten hours away.” He smiles at me. “Right
then, not goodbye. So…what about later?” “Sounds
perfect to me,” he holds my gaze. We hug each other one last time. I can feel
the ache of tears threatening to return. Separating
from the embrace, he flashes his boyish grin while picking up his t-shirt.
“I’ll text you along the way.” “And
you’ll send pics of your meals like you promised?” Ollie
chuckles. “Yes, Cailan. I promise I’ll send you daily updates on my nutritional
habits.” “Good.”
A smug smile forms on my lips. The
smile that almost reaches Ollies eyes slowly fades as he walks back out to the
main room. I follow. “If
you need anything you know I’m just a call away,” he reminds me, becoming a
little more serious. “Thanks
Uncle Ollie…for everything.” My voice is barely audible. He turns towards the
door and reaches to turn the handle. It opens with a soft click. Looking
back over his shoulder and smiling a half smile, he says gently, “Later, Cai.” “Later.”
My voice breaks on the word as it barely escapes me. With that he walks out of
the suite. The heavy wooden door closes behind him. The
moment is surreal. Looking around the main room of the suite, it hits me that
I’m really and truly on my own. Walking over to the nearest window overlooking
the pristine lake, I push the curtains to the side, and peer out of it. Placing
my hand over the small pendant hanging around my neck, I rub the cool and
smooth stone between my thumb and index finger. I begin to think about how my
life, up until this point, has been shaped by outside people and forces beyond
my control and I wonder what’s next for me. This is it, Cailan. This is your story to write now.
How are you going to begin it?
© 2018 T.M. Loftis |
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Added on February 4, 2018 Last Updated on February 4, 2018 Tags: young adult, new adult, fantasy, romance, fiction Veil of Sparks
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