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“You okay?” Izzy asked in a soft tone, her fingers touching Kris’ wrist. Kris opened her eyes and looked down at Izzy’s pale hand on hers, which was deeply tanned from all the time spent outside on the farm.
She quietly said, “I guess I just feel a little out of place.”
Izzy’s fingers lowered to cover Kris’ hand. In that moment, Kris had the urge to turn her hand over and wrap her finger around Izzy’s hand. Maybe Izzy could keep her grounded through all of this newness.
“I’m a native New Yorker.” Izzy said quietly, as if telling a great secret. “Born and raised in the urban jungle. Stick with me and you won’t feel out of place for long. I promise.”
She gave Kris a smile that immediately made her feel better. She reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind Kris’ ear. “Who knows, maybe we can even do something about that boring hair.”
Kris couldn’t help the adoration she felt for the strange girl smiling at her. Izzy had no reason to help Kris. If anything, Kris was bound to be a pain in Izzy’s neck. They were so different.
In her mind, Kris was as boring and ordinary as a pebble, while Izzy sparkled like a diamond with glitter on top. Still, the fun, punk girl with purple hair and piercings was willing to help her adapt to this new life. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
The smile that came to Kris’ lips was one of genuine gratitude. She sniffed back the tears and said, “That would be great. Izzy.”
“You got it, cutie pie!” Izzy sang as she clapped her hands. She pushed herself off Kris’ bed and bounced to her side of the room, dancing to an imaginary tune in her head.
Kris watched as Izzy went through the contents of her big old suitcase, pulling out clothes, shoes; even some posters and a variety of knickknacks to decorate her side of the room.
Kris knew at that moment that she had never met anyone quite like Isadora Ryman. Izzy.
* * *
Soon, Izzy’s side of the room was decorated with posters of heavy metal bands and naked women covered completely in tattoos. She had several small pillows she tossed on the bed, all decorated with pastel colored alien faces. Kris watched with great interest. It was all so different from the ceramic roosters and pigs that decorated her parents’ farm house and the dreadful pink ballerinas in her old bedroom. She hated those things, though she never told her mother so since she was the source of them. She loved everything Izzy had just thrown across the room. Actually, she was beginning to think she loved everything about Izzy.
Once she was finished decorating, Izzy looked at Kris and cocked her head to one side. “Don’t you have stuff to put up?”
Kris shook her head. “No. I didn’t really like anything that I had back home, so I left it there.”
Izzy grinned and walked over to Kris. She flopped back down on the bed
and threw an arm around Kris’ shoulders, tugging her close. A warm river ran down Kris’ spine.
“We gotta fix that,” Izzy said. “Dorm rooms are all about expressing yourself and bringing out whatever is inside of you. They’re a blank canvas, you know?”
Kris thought about it for a moment as she scanned the blank walls on her side of the room. She felt like a blank canvas and couldn’t wait to discover what her decorations would be. She grinned at Izzy and said, “Would you help me?”
Izzy rested her chin on Kris’ shoulder and said, “Are you ready to find yourself, cutie pie?”
Kris looked back into her roommate’s blue eyes.
Absolutely, she thought. With your help, absolutely.
CHAPTER THREE
It hadn’t been a lie when Kris told Izzy she was ready to find herself. To know herself and to be comfortable and free in her own skin were the things Kris wanted most in the world, and Izzy was the perfect guide to lead her on that journey.
As the first months of their freshman year passed the two girls became best friends. With Kris majoring in psychology and Izzy in graphic design they didn’t have any classes together, but every free second they had was spent together.
One of Kris’ favorite things to do was looking through Izzy’s sketch pads. Kris, who didn’t have an artistic bone in her body, was completely awed by Izzy’s talent. Everything she drew was raw, dark and a little disturbing, but Kris loved it.
One day, while she was looking through some of Izzy’s old drawings, a picture fell from between the pad’s pages. The picture fell, face down to the floor. As she bent over to pick it up curiosity got the better of her and she flipped it over see what it was.
In the picture, Izzy—whose hair was bright blue—had her arms around a girl with ink black hair. Her beautiful blue eyes were staring right at the camera as the other girl kissed the corner of her smiling lips.
A surge of red hot jealousy filled Kris. She couldn’t explain why, but she didn’t like anyone kissing her Izzy.
“You’re too quiet. Everything is okay?” Izzy asked, peeling her eyes from the computer screen to look at Kris.
