what happened, happened.
My room was probably one of the best on campus, I'm not going to lie. I was one of the lucky ones who's window overlooked woods instead of the student path or the road. The room itself, of course, didn't differ from anyone elses. White tile floor, white walls. A bed with blue mattress and drawers built into it's frame. A large closet with more drawers. A rather unassuming desk and an empty tack board. A shelf that lined the top of the right wall, perfect for storing small instruments. All in all, it was kind of boring, but that's what posters are for.
Box by box, we filled the barren room. It was an odd experience for me, having never moved before. I'd never transported so many of my possessions. When at last the final box had been perched atop the pile, I wanted to collapse on my new bed. Alas, unpacking commenced moments later. Before I knew it, I was sitting in my room, sharpening pencils, and wondering "what next?"
"She's the quietest yooper I've ever heard!" erupted a shout from the wing, thoroughly embarrassing me. After all, I was probably the only one from Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Something concerning me was surely afoot.
Not missing a beat, my father peered his head into my room. He implored me to come out, to meet my wingmates. Not seeing another option, I had to oblige. But don't think I was excited about it.
The shout had come from a Florida=born junior named Xaxira, who sat with Hope and Emy, also juniors, and my room mate Caridee. Caridee was a fellow freshman, adorable, Korean, bubbly and outgoing- mostly things that I am not. Nevertheless, I figured we'd get along well enough.
Xaxira, being our fearless wing leader, a title that was more words
My room was probably one of the best on campus, I'm not going to lie. I was one of the lucky ones who's window overlooked woods instead of the student path or the road. The room itself, of course, didn't differ from anyone elses. White tile floor, white walls. A bed with blue mattress and drawers built into it's frame. A large closet with more drawers. A rather unassuming desk and an empty tack board. A shelf that lined the top of the right wall, perfect for storing small instruments. All in all, it was kind of boring, but that's what posters are for.
Box by box, we filled the barren room. It was an odd experience for me, having never moved before. I'd never transported so many of my possessions. When at last the final box had been perched atop the pile, I wanted to collapse on my new bed. Alas, unpacking commenced moments later. Before I knew it, I was sitting in my room, sharpening pencils, and wondering "what next?"
"She's the quietest yooper I've ever heard!" erupted a shout from the wing, thoroughly embarrassing me. After all, I was probably the only one from Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Something concerning me was surely afoot.
Not missing a beat, my father peered his head into my room. He implored me to come out, to meet my wingmates. Not seeing another option, I had to oblige. But don't think I was excited about it.
The shout had come from a Florida=born junior named Xaxira, who sat with Hope and Emy, also juniors, and my room mate Caridee. Caridee was a fellow freshman, adorable, Korean, bubbly and outgoing- mostly things that I am not. Nevertheless, I figured we'd get along well enough.
Xaxira, being our fearless wing leader, a title that was more words
