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Dawdling, I hesitate, not sure if I should just leave, but how will I make a good impression on my professor if I head to the classroom with absolutely nothing? Completely unprepared? If there’s one thing my mom has imprinted on me over the years, it’s that first impressions mean everything. A person will always default back to what they first saw you as, even if you change and grow and become a better person. They’ll still see you at your worst.
Of course, with my mom, she saw my father in a much different light than she should because of her first impression of him. She knew from the first time they met that she wanted to marry him, and she did, and now, we’re on the run.
So awesome.
I, still to this day, don’t know how I convinced her to leave the country. I even got her to book a plant ticket to Europe under a fake name. As far as I know, she’s living the high life, but eventually, she’s going to have to settle down and get a job, and that wont’ be easy for her, I know.
But while I’m on the run too, I’m not hiding. If my father truly wants to find me, he’ll be able to. I registered for college under my name, Katie Quake.
I’m running but not hiding, and I’m still me.
It's time for me to leave the darkness of my past buried behind me and move forward with my life.
Which is why a good first impression is such a big deal to me.
I slide over and knock on the next door. The way our dorm is set up, two rooms share a bathroom between them. If my suitemates are in, maybe I can get to my room through the bathroom, so long as Lauren didn’t lock the bathroom door, which she might’ve. I have a feeling she doesn’t trust anyone.
The door opened, and a tall, leggy blonde with smeared makeup clearly from yesterday stands before me. She yawns and blinks a few times. “‘lo?”
“Hi. I’m Katie.” I jerk my thumb to the left. “I live next door. I forgot my keys, and I was hoping to see if I can get to my room through the bathroom.”
“Ah, yeah. Sure.”
She steps back, and her roommate, a girl with thick makeup, heavy and dark and most certainly put on this morning because it is utterly perfect and totally goth, comes out of the bathroom. She says nothing. Her shirt is a raven rising out of a skull’s eye socket. It actually looks really badass, but she just heads over to her bed, the sheets black, of course. Her black cargo pants’ pockets are all bulging, as if she’s crammed everything she could into each and every single pocket. Gotta give her credit because the black of her shirt, the pants, and even her sheets are all the exact same shade of black. It makes me wonder if she dyed them all to match because black can come in a wide variety of shades.
“Hi,” I say to her, not expecting her to say anything in return.
She grunts, but I can feel her eyes on me as I go to the bathroom and try the knob to the door that will lead to my room.
The knob turns, and I exhale a sigh of relief. I shut the door, grab my keys, shove them into my purse. My backpack isn’t where I thought it was, not in plain sight, so I just rush out the door, locking it behind me, and I’m off, finally ready to start my first day of college.
CHAPTER2
I hurry along,trying to rush around from building to building. The whole point of moving onto the campus early was for orientation. I didn’t go to all of those stupid icebreaker things, but there had been a tour, and I couldn’t recall which building was Dooling Hall, where my first class of the day was. The first several buildings I’ve approached are Wright Hall, Dixon House, and Boxwood House. Where the hell is Dooling?
Most of the other students all seem to know exactly where to go, and honestly, it’s a little frustrating because I am just that clueless. I could’ve sworn Dooling Hall was closer to Vinney Hall, my dorm.
A girl with blond hair in braided pigtails seems to be the only one meandering about, not walking with any sense of purpose at all. Maybe she doesn’t have any classes yet and is just walking about for fun.
I go to walk around her, and she makes some kind of sound, maybe a scoff. Confused, I glance over at her, but she’s smiling.
“Where are you heading?” she asks.
“Dooling Hall,” I say. “If I can find it.”
“What’s your name, kid?”
I lift my eyebrows. Kid? She doesn’t look any older than I am, but that might be because of her hair. She does seem a lot more comfortable on campus than I am, though, for what it’s worth, so maybe she’s a sophomore.
“I’m Katie,” I say slowly.
“Nice to meet you, Katie. I’m Robyn.”
“Any chance you know where Dooling Hall is?”
“I do.” She grins. “I can walk you there.”
“Are you sure?” I ask skeptically.
