Chapter 6

 

Georgiana

 

University of North Carolina was even better than the pictures, and the view of the campus further solidified my feelings that I had made the right choice.

UNC Chapel Hill was huge; over 729-acres, and dominated by two central quads, Polk and McCorkle. There was the Morehead Planetarium, and then The Pit, which was the place where students engaged in healthy debates, and the campus even had their own art museum, stadium, and an old cemetery. It was like Chapel Hill was the whole city with only students as its citizens. I bet they even had restaurants and shopping malls in here, too, I was sure of.

I watched the other students hustle about, and my skin felt all tingly from excitement. I couldn’t wait to experience college. I spotted a welcome desk at the grounds, and I walked towards it, greeting the two students sitting there with a smile. They smiled back and handed me a long flyer.

“Hi! Are you a freshman?” she asked, her glasses almost sliding off of her nose. I nodded. “Name, please?”

“Pratt, Georgiana Elizabeth,” I said, and she nodded, flipping through her list. She tapped on a spot on the paper, and handed me a note with my name on it.

“Your RA’s name is Cassidy Spelling, and she’ll help you get your room assignment and key,” she instructed, and I nodded, taking the note from her hands. “Welcome to UNC!” she exclaimed, and I smiled in reply.

I looked at my note and grumbled when it only contained my RA’s name and Winston, which was the name of my Resident Hall. I opened the flyer and tried to see on the mini map where it was.

“Okay, so according to this map,” I muttered to myself, flipping the map left and right as I tried to make sense of it. “Winston is at the corner of South Road and Raleigh Street. The question is…where the hell was that?” I said, scratching my head in frustration. I heard a chuckle come from behind me and I turned around immediately, my heart skipping a beat as I recognized the dulcet undertones of his laughter.

Airplane Hot Guy was here, shaking his head while grinning widely at me, showing off his perfectly aligned pearly whites.

“You know, we really must stop meeting like this,” he said, but I was too dumbstruck to respond. He frowned, taking a step closer to me and placing his hand on my shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked, concerned.

His question snapped me out of my thoughts, and I smiled brightly at him.

“Of course I’m fine! Oh my God! I wasn’t expecting to see you here!” I cried, torn between patting him on the arm and jumping into his arms so I could hug him. I wasn’t expecting to see him ever again, actually. “Are you a student here too?” I asked, and he nodded.

“Uh, yeah, actually, freshman year,” he replied.

“What course are you taking?” I asked, and he shrugged.

“I’m undecided at the moment, but I’m taking mostly writing classes,” he answered, and my eyes widened.

“Really? Are you enrolled in the writing program at the Writing Center, by any chance?” I asked, my heart pounding loudly. He furrowed his brows.

“Yeah, how’d you know that?” he asked, and I started hopping in place, unable to contain my excitement at meeting a potential classmate.

“Because I’m taking those classes too!” I squealed, taking his hands and continuing my jumping. “Oh my God, all along we were batch mates and we never even realized it!” I cried. He let out a short cough and laughed a little, scratching the back of his head.

“Uh, yeah. It’s a small world, huh?” he remarked, and I nodded. Indeed, what a very small world it is.

“Oh! Before I forget, I realized we hadn’t known each other’s names yet,” I said, extending my hand out toward him. “I’m Georgiana. But you can call me ‘George’,” I said. He took my hand firmly and shook it once, his silvery-blue eyes never wavering from mine.

“Hey, George. I’m Spencer,” he replied.

Spencer. Such a nice name. It’s not so common, and it sounds a little bit aristocratic, but weirdly enough, it fit him. He looked like a Spencer.

“So, George. I saw you turning that campus map like a steering wheel earlier, and I could definitely tell you were lost again,” he said, placing his hands on his hips like how a father looked when he was about to deliver the hand of justice toward me and tell me where I did wrong. “You need help with that?” he asked, and I grimaced.

“Yes, please. Save me before I grow roots,” I begged him, and together we managed to locate where the two streets were.

“I’ve got Alderman Hall, so I’m going to go back and talk to my RA,” Spencer said, and I felt a little guilty for asking him to help me look for my resident hall, when apparently his was all the way over to the other side of campus.

“I’ll come with you,” I volunteered, but he shook his head.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I can manage. You should get inside and settle in. We can meet up later or whatever,” he said, and I nodded reluctantly. He waved goodbye and went on his way as I took a deep breath and went inside.

There were a lot of students walking around the hallway, boxes and bags scattered all over the floor, and it took me a while to navigate around the place and locate my RA’s room. I raised my hand to knock on her door when it suddenly burst open, and a tall beautiful girl with ebony skin came out, her blonde hair bouncing up and down in a short ponytail. She took one glance at me holding my bags and she smiled widely, her pearly white teeth almost blinding.

“Hi! You must be one of our new roomies!” she exclaimed, bending over and grabbing one of my bags for me. I nodded.

“Um, yes. I’m Georgi—,” I started to introduce myself but she interrupted me.

“Georgiana Pratt! Yes, I remembered your name from the list the office gave me,” she said. I looked at her in confusion and she giggled, her laughter sounding like little bells chiming.

Jesus, this girl was giving me a lot of hits on my self-esteem just by existing. How could someone be so beautiful? It was so unfair on so many levels.

“I’m sorry. Your name is just very unique that it left a mark on me,” she explained, and I nodded in understanding.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’d rather you call me ‘George’,” I requested, and she blinked.

“’But why? Georgiana is a beautiful name,” she replied, and I winced.

“It’s kind of a mouthful, and I don’t really think it suits me,” I said. She clicked her tongue on the back of her teeth and shook her head at me.

“Nonsense, Georgiana. You are a beautiful girl that suits such a beautiful name. You should own it. So forgive me, but I would prefer to call you Georgiana,” she said. I sighed and shrugged, letting her have her way. “And you can call me ‘Cassie’.”

We climbed two flights of stairs and turned to a corridor on the left. We stopped at room 2D, and Cassie pulled a ring filled with keys from her hoodie pocket. She flipped the tags until she stopped at a violet-colored one, pulled it out of the ring and handed it to me.

“So, I will be holding a house meeting later tonight so I could discuss about a few house rules and responsibilities during your stay with us, but I have a couple of things I think you should know before then,” she said, and I straightened up, ready to listen.

“It’s customary for freshman students, such as yourself, to room with a senior, or at least a student who has already completed their first year here in UNC. The reason is to help our newbies get used to the curriculum and to have someone knowledgeable about the campus, and be easily accessible for information,” Cassie explained, and I nodded in understanding. “And don’t worry, all of us here at Winston House have a zero tolerance for bullying, so you can be rest assured that none of us here would bitch at you,” she assured me.

“Also, if you ever need any assistance and your roommate is away, you can always find me at my room or at the Library, because I work part time as a library aide there,” she said. She placed her hand on the doorknob before turning toward me again. “Your roommate got here a few hours ago, and she’s a sophomore. I’m going to facilitate introductions, and then I’ll leave you to catch up, okay?”

She opened the door before I could reply, and I took in the room. One side was bare of decorations, containing a single bed with wooden frames and a medium-sized desk with two drawers and a rotating chair. The walls were cream and freshly painted, and a square window was right in the middle of the adjacent wall, dividing the room into two.

I turned my head to look to the side, and my eyes widened as I spotted the posters decorating the walls around the bed, as well as the tall woman standing over it, putting up a poster of Panic! At The Disco on the wall. The light from the window hit her long flaming red hair, making it look like it was sparkling. She turned around, and her face nearly took my breath away.

Her blue eyes were so dark they were almost purple, and her dark eyeliner further emphasized them. Her nose was small but pointy, and her lips were painted dark red. She had a rosy-white complexion that seemed to glow, and the way she stood so erect and poised made me imagine her as some kind of ethereal creature, like an elven queen or a vampire.

She brushed off the dirt in her hands before hopping off the bed, looking at Cassie and me with a curious expression on her face.

“Spelling,” she said, referring to Cassie by her last name.

“Rebecca, I see you have quite the head start on the decorations. Are you excited for the Annual Housing Decoration Contest this year?” Cassie asked.

“Nah, I was just putting up this new poster of one of my bands. You know how I am,” my new roommate, Rebecca, replied. Her voice had this sultry, alluring quality to it that only further cemented her dark and sexy image. She was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt that had ribbons stitching the sleeves together ending in a loosely-knotted bow, and showing her midriff slightly, as well as stonewashed jeans and brown combat boots. I figured she was probably a rocker-type chick or a Goth, but either way, she looked cool.

“Yes, I do. Which is why I am so psyched to introduce to you your new roomie!” Cassie exclaimed, waving her hand towards me like she was presenting a TV showcase on The Price is Right. “Rebecca, this is Georgiana Pratt, one of our new students. Georgiana, this is Rebecca Hayes, she’s a sophomore taking up Computer Science and Communication,” Cassie introduced.

Rebecca nodded, grinning slightly at me. We shook hands and I couldn’t help but notice how firm her grip was, like she was strong enough to break the bones in my hand.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” she said, and I smiled back.

“Likewise. Please, call me George,” I said.

“Alright,” Rebecca replied. Cassie clapped her hands, smiling widely at the both of us.

“Well, it looks like you two will get along splendidly! Rebecca, I leave Georgiana in your very capable hands. I’ll be going back downstairs if you guys need anything, okay?” Cassie said, waving goodbye before leaving the room, and closing the door after her.

“So, you want some help unpacking your stuff, or do you want to do something else?” Rebecca asked.

“Oh no, don’t worry about it. I think I can manage it later,” I said, really not looking forward to unpacking all my stuff. “I am feeling a bit peckish, though,” I admitted, placing a hand on my stomach as it emitted a low growl. She smirked at the sound before nodding.

“Yeah, I can help you with that. There are tons of food choices over at Franklin Street,” she said. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

She took her keys and cellphone from her desk, and I followed her out the door.

Rebecca gave me a brief description of everything we passed by, as well as a bit of information on the other students who lived in Winston Hall. She told me most of them were nice, albeit a little too perky for her taste. She asked me what I was majoring in, and she looked intrigued when I told her I was still undecided, a little embarrassed to mention I was a writer.

“That’s kind of weird,” Rebecca commented. “Most kids that come here already have their lives mapped out, even if it’s a career path their parents chose for them. You don’t seem like the slacker type,” she said, and I wrinkled my nose, being a little self-conscious.

“To tell you the truth, my parents are writers, and both of them have authored bestselling books. I love writing as well, and one of the reasons for me coming here is because of UNC’s writing center, but I guess since I was holed up at home for so long, I wanted to be able to try some other things besides writing. You know, to see if I’ll have a passion for anything else,” I explained, and she nodded thoughtfully.

“That’s actually a smart way to go about it,” she replied. “But you know you can only go undeclared for a maximum of three months, right? Sooner or later you’ll be forced to make a decision if you want to keep on staying here.”

I shook my head in surprise, because no, I didn’t know about that. I thanked her for telling me about it, as thoughts started swirling in my head in a panic. I was hoping to dip my hand into a lot of things for a year, at least, before formally declaring what to do, but three months? Was three months enough to decide what to do for the rest of my life?

I was lamenting on the weirdness of my life when Rebecca rubbed my arm comfortingly.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. A lot of kids in the same situation as you were able to decide before their three months were up, and I’ve got faith you’ll be able to do the same,” Rebecca said, her words making me feel a little better. “So, what exactly are you in the mood for? Japanese food? Indian? Italian? Or is good old McDonalds more your style?” she asked.

“Do they have a Thai food place here? I’m sort of craving for some Pad Thai,” I replied.

“Fear not, freshman. I know just the place,” she said, leading the way.

Rebecca and I continued to chat and get to know each other as we ate, and I realized she wasn’t as intimidating as I initially thought. She told me how she was brought up in what could only be described as a ‘crack house’, and that for the first few years of her life, it was just her mother who raised her, even though the term ‘raising’ was a bit of an overstatement.

She told me how her mother was more preoccupied with getting high rather than taking care of her, and when she finally died of an overdose, her mother’s stoner friends had no idea what to do with the kid she left behind.

It was around that time when her father magically reappeared in her life, and took her home with him, introducing her to his actual family. She had a stepmother and a stepsister, but both of them didn’t treat her like family, but more like staff, ordering her to do all kinds of things in the house.

I could tell by the way her fist was clenching around her fork, and the way her blue-violet eyes darkened until they were almost black, that there was more to this story than she was telling me, but I let go of it for now. Our friendship was still new, and I didn’t want to alienate her before school started. So I chose to joke about it instead.

“No offense, but your story sounds like it came straight out of a fairytale,” I teased, and she smiled, the darkness in her eyes fading.

“I know, right? But sadly, that’s the reality of it. I had to harden myself up against their maltreatment, or else I wouldn’t have survived living with them for so long. Richard was always working to know what was going on, and I wasn’t sure he was going to believe me anyway if I told him, so I just let it go. I moved out when I was fifteen, and stayed at a friend’s couch until I graduated high school, and not once did that guy notice I was gone,” she said.

“Richard?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Who’s Richard?”

“Richard is my father,” she replied.

“You call your father by his first name?” I asked, thinking it was quite strange. She leveled me with a stare.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” I said. She shook her head, smiling slightly.

“Don’t be. I wanted you to know. You’re kind of easy to talk to,” Rebecca said, and I smiled at the praise.

“I’ve never really had a friend before. I mostly stayed at home and I didn’t have the guts to talk to the other kids at school,” I admitted.

“Well, George, it looks like you got one now.” Rebecca stated. “So, what do you say we go to a party?”