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“Oh,pleasetell me you’re interested in a tutoring job.”
I turned to a girl with bright red hair, piercings in her eyebrows, and her lip with a pleading look on her elfish face. She dug a keychain from her fringed leather purse and unlocked the writing center door.
I swallowed, envying her mixed ethnicity and the color it left her flawless skin. “Uh, actually, yeah, I’m looking for an on-campus job. Are you doing the hiring?”
She tossed her keys and motioned for me to follow her. The fluorescent lighting hung low and highlighted three long rows of computers. “I’m India, I’m a senior literature major, and I do most of the hiring when Professor Sarah not’s here.”
I followed her to the corner of the room where a small white desk sat surrounded by filing cabinets, dream catchers, and funky-looking wood décor. She pointed to the foldout chair in front of me. “Sit.”
I slid into the seat, keeping an eye on the clock above her head. “So you’re a freshman?”
“Yep, second day.”
India turned on her computer and clanked away for a few seconds before grabbing a paper she printed. “Fill this out. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve got it.”
I lifted a brow at her. “Just like that? What if I suck?”
She smirked in a challenging way, and her deep dark eyes almost laughed. “Do you suck?”
“No,” I laughed. “I’m majoring in English. I love to read and I aced all my writing classes back in Zachary.”
She clicked her tongue at me. “Exactly what I thought.”
I hurried and filled out the paper with my emergency contact, phone number, and address.
“I’ll email you tonight with the schedule, there are only a few people signed up at the moment, so you’ll get plenty of hours.”
“Great.”
India looked over her head. “You have class?”
“Yeah.”
She shooed me with her hand, and I almost skipped toward my computer lab. A balding man with a real knack for putting you to sleep taught my technical writing class.
However, I felt too happy about my job to care about my boredom. When the hour passed, I raced toward the cafeteria to grab something to eat. My cell phone buzzed in my pocket, while I stood in line to get something to eat.
“Hello?”
“Nihaobaobèi.”
Oh no.“Hey, Momma.”
“You never called me. Is everything okay? Did you get settled in with your roommate?”
I debated telling her the truth while pointing toward the spaghetti and garlic bread. “Uh … yeah, everything is good. I’m actually at lunch right now before my next class. How is Dad?”
“He’s fine. At work. We want to come up to visit soon and see your apartment.”
Crap.I hadn’t thought passed getting a place to stay. If my mother or my father found out about Jordan or Maverick, they would put a stop to it somehow. Panic climbed my throat and strangled my words.
“Josie?” Mom asked. “Is everything okay?”
I could imagine her perfectly plucked eyebrow lifted knowingly and her fingernails tapping un-rhythmically against the granite of our kitchen island. I even imagined how tight the bun on top of her head looked, pulling her eyes back even further than naturally.
“No, Momma. Everything is fine. I’m just finding a place to sit. Y’all can come soon. I have a busy schedule right now, I’ve landed a job as a tutor, and when I get my schedule from that, I will let y’all know a good time.”
She seemed to buy it. “Okay, well, let us know if you need any money. I’m … proud of you,baobèi.”
