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I thought I’d miss working as Princess Elena more than I do. Sometimes I walk by Elena’s Castle, peer in, and see Ryan standing next to the new princess. I helped train her and she was a natural fit. In my head, no one was ever going to replace me in that role. In reality, it’s done rather quickly.
The absolute best perk about my new position is the jump in salary. In Character employees make jack-diddly-squat, a couple dollars over minimum wage, which was part of the reason why I took on the job as the residence hall manager as well.
Today is my last day of my duties in the dorm. I’ve been clearing my room out all week after work, packing up years of my life. I’m finally finished. The girls are waiting for me at the door, blocking my way out.
“You can’t leave us!”
“You’re one of us!
“We’re only on season four of Friends!”
I’m worried they’re going to cling to my legs and hold on for dear life. I’ll show up at Derek’s apartment with them in tow.
Please can we keep them?!
Fine, but they’re your responsibility.
“I’ll still see you guys around,” I promise.
It’s true. They’re all in the mentorship program. As it is, they already come by my office once a day to steal the candy I put out on my desk and to spy on the guests inside the park from my second-story windows. It’s the easiest way to find me considering I haven’t been at the dorm much lately. Something about Derek and his brawny frame has made it impossible to drag myself back here at night. For the last month, since we returned from New York, we’ve been mostly living together. Today, he and I are making it official.
“But don’t you like living here?” one of the girls asks, grasping at straws.
“Yes, you guys are wonderful, but I’m ready to shower in a noncommunal bathroom.”
“And she’s in loOoOve,” another one adds.
They all join in with the taunt and I laugh like, Ha ha ha, you really got me.
I am, though. In love, that is. Just like Savage Garden said, truly madly deeply.
“Are y’all done making fun of me? This box is getting heavy.”
They disperse with promises to come see me in my office in the morning. Then I turn back to survey the empty dorm room behind me, taking a moment to soak it in one more time. I’ve cursed this shoebox more than I’ve appreciated it. I hated the lack of storage and the cinderblock walls. I hated my hard mattress and the fact that my window was bolted shut. I can’t deny how much I’ve grown in this space, though. This is where I got to know Carrie and first fell for Derek. On that bed is where I would lie, reading the books he’d lent me and daydreaming about the possibility of a real future with him. Turns out, I wasn’t all that delusional.
I flip the light off and close the door behind me.The walk to Derek’s apartment is a good one. Winter in Georgia means it’s in the low 60s, sunny even though it’s close to dinner time. I have a spring in my step. Butterflies gather around me. Bunnies hop along at my feet—or so I assume. I’m too busy heading into my future to be bothered to look down.
The receptionist inside the exec apartments’ lobby smiles at me as I pass. She knows me now. I belong. I take the elevator up to the top floor, and the scent of roasted garlic and herbs hits me before I open the door and find Derek in the kitchen, making dinner. He’s wearing slacks and a button-down, prim and proper except for the fact that he’s pushed the sleeves to his elbows and there’s a splatter of some kind across the front of his shirt.
He’s leaning down, studying an iPad. Eyes narrowed. Jaw locked.
“Honey! I’m home!” I shout with an exaggerated 1950s flair. I’m the first person in the history of the world to make this joke upon arriving home to a significant other. Still, Derek looks up and smiles, walking over to take the box from me.
I tilt my head up and he responds with a kiss hello.
“Smells really good in here.”
“Ava sent me this recipe,” he says, returning to the kitchen with me on his heels. “She said it’d be a no-brainer.”
“Let me guess…it’s a brainer?”
He throws me a look over his shoulder. “I think she sabotaged me on purpose. There’s something like fifty steps. I already burned the sauce.”
“Well, it still smells good.”
“That’s the chicken in the oven. The sauce was stinking up the kitchen so I threw it in the trash and put the bag down the garbage shoot. Now we’ll be eating our chicken with a little secret ingredient I’d like to call ketchup.”
