The dorm room is a lot smaller than she had expected, and among the provided twin bed, dresser and tiny desk Emily can barely find room for her things. She is not one to pack lightly. She hangs photos on the wall: friends, family, her boyfriend David and lastly a long poster of San Francisco at the head of her bed. She misses home already.
She moves to lie back on the mattress then thinks of all of the people who have slept on it before her, thinks again and sits on the desk chair. It is hard and uncomfortable and she wonders how she will ever get any school work done sitting there. Her eyes follow the outline of the room as she takes it all in, her home for two years. Emily closes her eyes - she is grateful for her single room.
In the rooms next to her and across from her others are moving in, getting organized, adjusting, studying their roommates when they aren’t looking wondering if they will get along or if three weeks from now they will have to work out a system because one of them is there to study while the other is there for ass.
Emily's mental alarm clock alerts her of the time and with a quick dash to the tiny washroom to glance in the mirror, she is out her door, careful to lock it behind her.
The atmosphere in the halls is one of hectic, nervous excitement. Emily purses her lips and steps forward. Slick haired men with plastic water guns in hand run after a number of girls, dodging fathers and their sons struggling up the stairwell with bookshelves, TVs’, chairs and boxes in hand. A freakishly tall freckle faced red head stands in his open doorway, waiting, covering whatever poor soul strides past him with bright blue silly string. Emily can’t help but feel superior amongst these infantile jokers. They’re at Harvard for god sakes.
Emily barely makes it through unscathed.
The Holyoke Center is bigger than she recalls from her tour months ago and she can’t help but stare as she wanders into the Events and Information Centre. She finds an empty seat – there aren’t many as she is late – and waits.
--
“Who among you will be the next Morse? The next Einstein? Who among you will be the vanguard of democracy, freedom, and discovery? Today, we bequeath America's future into your able hands. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Harvard University.”
Emily smiles, recognizing the speech: A Beautiful Mind. She looks at the people surrounding her. She feels invigorated.
There are more speakers; the dean of admissions, current students and alumni. They tell their stories of success and/or near failure. They tell their stories of friendship and love, of commitment and hard work. Emily tries to listen but is distracted by those around her. Two feet in front of her stands possibly the best looking man she has ever seen in her life. He is dressed very well, in expensive shoes, his wrist adorned with what looks to be an extremely expensive watch. She is willing to bet that he drives some decked out BMW that mom and dad bought him the day he got his license. (Scratch that – he probably gets an upgrade every year or two). As if sensing that he is being thoroughly scrutinized, he turns. He looks right through her.
Emily continues her study of her surrounding colleagues. Quite tall. Too skinny. Nerd. Priss. Mama’s boy. Here for the status. Here because every male in his family before him attended. Here because she couldn’t get in to Wharton. Here on an academic scholarship. Will surely drop out first semester. Short and squat. Born into wealth. Clearly not a Harvard student. Drunk. High. Drunk and high. Spoiled. Spoiled. And spoiled.
She studies the professors next. Old. Older. Hard ass. Pushover. Cute. Really cute. The jerk who accepts sexual favors for passing grades. The newest and scared shitless addition to the pack. The opinionated one. Toupe. Hair plugs. The tight no-means-no bun at the nape of the neck. She has them all pegged.
An eruption of applause breaks her from her thoughts. She joins in. The big wigs descend from the stage and the crowd surrounding her begins to disperse. Emily wanders slowly across campus alone alone alone. Around her people have already made friends and for some, lovers. It is not until she is back in her room that she releases the breath she didn’t even know she had been holding.
Music pumps from nearby rooms. Phones ring in the distance. Somewhere outside, cheap convenience store bought fireworks explode in the sky. Laughter can be heard from every angle. Emily, downed in an old t-shirt and boxers, climbs under her covers and closes her eyes. The clock on the bedside table reads 9:02.
Emily had just fallen asleep with an unrecognizable chime wakes her. It takes her a moment to realize that it is her phone. She climbs from her bed and slowly maneuvers to the phone, picking up on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“It’s your first night and you have already forgotten to call me. This does not bode well for the future, but correct me if I’m wrong.”
“Hi Dave.”
“So how is it? Is it all it’s cracked up to be?”
“It’s different to say the least. I feel like everyone has a huge trust fund. From what I can tell so far there are three different types of people: the rich spoiled brats, the super smart nerds and the scholarship winners.”
“So where exactly do you fit in?” He laughs.
“Well, I’m not loaded, I’m not here on a scholarship and I am certainly not a nerd. So I guess… nowhere?”
“Come home” he concludes. She laughs.
“Do you at least miss me?” he asks. Emily responds instinctively “Yes of course.”
“Well I guess when you are forgetting to call me that I will just have to remind myself of that.”
“I’m sorry baby. You mind if I sign off? I’m really tired.”
“No problem. Give it time, okay? You’ve always been able to make friends easily.”
“They’re different here, Dave. It’s like a whole new world.”
“You will find where you fit in, I have no doubt about it. Call me tomorrow. I love you.”
“I love you too.” Click.
Back in bed, eyes closed, Emily thinks about home. San Francisco. The smell, the feel, the people, the atmosphere. Her house, her parents and friends, her dogs and her bedroom. No, this is her home now. Boston.
She feels tired. And then it hits her. She had felt a number of things today but Dave had never crossed her mind. Odd, she thinks, as she drifts off to sleep.
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