Sara
“WHAT’S YOUR NAME again, dear?” I sank my teeth into my bottom lip to delay my response enough to take the nasty edge off. After being in the car for four straight hours, I was exhausted and missed my daughter so much it hurt; I didn’t have it in me to be nice.
“Sara Caldwell. My room is in this building. This is the on-campus housing, right?”
Her lips pursed as she flipped through the file on her desk at a glacier’s pace. I was reminded of that movie Victoria loved with the sloths at the DMV, although they were a bit faster than this lady. The thought of my daughter and the wave of sadness that followed expelled some of the frustrated air from my lungs. I didn’t come all the way out here to be miserable. Patience, I needed patience.
“Ah, yes, here you are. Second floor.” She pointed her bright pink fingernail to the flight of stairs behind her. I forced a smile and nodded a silent thank you before trudging up the stairs. I was sure I’d be one of the oldest students here because of my long absence from school. I had two years of culinary credits and managed to get into the accelerated program. I’d have my degree in a year and—God willing—a job paying well enough to support both of us. Then the real grunt work would begin, but I wasn’t afraid. To spend hours in a grueling kitchen learning something beat the hell out of jumping from table to table at one of my waitress jobs. I would have a career, not just a job. My fists flexed at my sides as I made my way up the stairs, excitement and terror rushing through me.
My suitcase, duffel bag, and purse weighed on me with every step. How steep was this flight of stairs? By the time I arrived on the floor, I was a huffing and puffing sweaty mess. I dropped one of my bags and scoured every door for my room number when I plowed into something.
“Sorry.” I lifted my head to a deep baritone and winced in embarrassment. The something was a someone.
“No, it was my fault . . .” I trailed off. My tired eyes glossed over the full lips tempered by stubbled cheeks, thick black hair, and chocolate eyes and then landed on the broad chest I’d bumped into. My victim shot me a sly grin and shook his head.
“I’m always in a rush and end up knocking someone over.” His throaty chuckle vibrated through me as his eyes searched mine. “Do you want some help?” He reached for the bag I dropped on the floor, but I jerked away, unsure of why I was so damn jumpy.
“No, thanks. I just, um, need to find my room.” I took a wide step back, the heel of my sneaker catching on the edge of the bag and I—in torturously slow motion—fell back as I slipped on the fabric like a damn banana peel. Chiseled arms wrapped around me right before my backside bit the dust.
“Easy there. Are you okay?” Concern flashed in his eyes followed by amusement, only adding to the humiliation. I grabbed onto his shoulders for purchase as I righted myself, too embarrassed to look him directly in the eye.
“Yeah, sure. Sorry.”
“I’ve never seen you before. You’re new here, right?” He tilted his head as he studied me.
“Yes, why?” My eyes darted to his as I squirmed under his heavy stare. Five minutes here and I already made a complete idiot of myself, and this guy wasn’t letting me escape his hold. His strong hold against his hard body. Not that I noticed or anything.
“I think I’d remember you.” A flirty smile curved his lips.
I spied “226” over the stranger’s shoulder and let out a sigh of relief. “And there is my room. Thanks for your help.” A nervous laugh bubbled out of my chest as I grabbed my bags and skirted around him, this time unscathed. I didn’t understand why I was so damn flustered and blamed it on the long trip and my new role as a gasping fish out of water.
“Have a good day,” I blurted before fishing the key card out of my pocket.
“Drew.” I heard the smile in his voice before I turned around.
“Excuse me?” I craned my head as I fiddled with the lock.
“My name. It’s Drew. And you are?” He cocked a sexy brow. Oh, for God’s sake.
I didn’t have time for him, or this. This being men or socialization in general. I didn’t come this far to fuck around and fuck it up. Been there and done that and sure as hell wasn’t going back.
“Sara. See you around.” I opened the door and rushed through, slumping against it as I tried to shake off the humiliation. I studied my surroundings; the two beds with a bathroom at the far end of the room. One side was already claimed, the bed furnished with a quilt and surrounded with pictures. I plopped my stuff on the vacant side and fell onto the mattress. Hopefully I’d feel less awkward once I found a routine, but uptight and standoffish were more or less who I was. At least that was what a prior manager had told me as part of a well-meaning “why don’t I loosen up” speech. I was always darting from one job to the next and had to manage where my kid was in between, so I didn’t have time for small talk.
I’d held onto my bad attitude for so long, I had no clue how to be even a little social. I’d never cared about that, but I guessed now, if this was all going to work, I had to. I dropped my head into my hands and pinched the bridge of my nose. The mere prospect of it exhausted me.
“Sara?” I lifted my head to the squeaky voice and click of the lock. “So nice to finally meet you!”
Lisa, my new roommate, rushed over to me and tackled me with a hug before I could fully stand off the bed. She pulled back and grabbed me by the arms. “And you look normal! I haven’t had too much luck with roommates. Welcome! How was the drive from . . . Oh, God, I forgot where you’re from . . . Brooklyn?” She winced in shame and I couldn’t help but laugh. The glint in her hazel eyes seemed genuine and kind. It’d been a long time since I attempted to make an actual friend, and the few seconds in Lisa’s easy presence highlighted how lonely I really was all these years.
“Queens. Long but okay. Happy to be here and get settled in.” I gave her a tired smile. “This is my first time living at school. I commuted in my first two years . . .” I trailed off, omitting the “before I got knocked up” part. It shamed me, but it was nice to just be Sara for a moment. Not Sara, the single mom with no family and hardly any friends.
“I’m so psyched we have our own bathroom. I mean, they aren’t suites or anything, but this room already beats the hell out of where I stayed for the past three years. The building is co-ed, too, so that will take some getting used to.”
“Right.” I nodded. I knew that but bumping head-on with an attractive man who most likely lived here had me a little twisted. Why couldn’t I have at least looked him in the eye? I’m sure he wouldn’t be the only good-looking guy here I’d put off by my prickly personality.
“I’m starving,” Lisa groaned and pressed her palm to her stomach. “You’re in the culinary program, right? After we eat, I can show you the test kitchen. It’s where we have our lab classes, but you can use it on your own.”
My eyes went wide as I gaped at Lisa. “You can use the lab kitchen anytime you want? My old school never let us do that.”
“None really do. It’s an unusual perk, that’s for sure. They should put that on the Champlain College website. I go there a lot to practice or sometimes only because I feel like cooking something for myself. It’s pretty cool.”
“A state-of-the-art kitchen I could cook in anytime I want . . . that is pretty damn cool.” I dug my palms into my legs and pushed off the bed. “I’m starving, but after we eat, I need to make a quick phone call . . . I promised my daughter I’d let her know when I got here.” My smile faded as I braced myself for the inevitable awkwardness.
“Aw, how old is she? Do you have a picture?” Lisa’s smile was genuine and took me by surprise.
“Um, yeah. She’s eight, almost nine.” I reached into one of my bags and dug out the framed photo of her and me at her last recital. She always resembled her father more, but I’d loved this picture because our smiles looked identical. I glanced at it with a wistful grin before handing it to Lisa. She was my happiness, my purpose, and the reason I was here. That needed to become my mantra for the next two semesters.
“She’s so pretty! Looks just like you. I hope she comes to visit.” Lisa set the frame on the bare end table next to my bed.
As I followed Lisa out of our room and descended the stairs behind her, I attempted to shelf the guilt for a bit and force myself to believe it was okay to be here. This wouldn’t be easy, but I needed to make the most out of this new turn my life had taken. I’d find a way to enjoy it all if it killed me.
I could do this.