Stop!

by Alison G. Bailey

  My gaze stayed glued to my sneakers as I slowly moved up the concrete steps toward the entrance of the dorm. I felt the rush of air as people whizzed by, excited to see their new home and meet new friends. I was concentrating so hard I almost ran head first into one of the large white columns. I made it through the door, unharmed, found the office, and waited in line to check in.

  The air was filled with the energy of the new school year. Hellos, goodbyes, laughter, and questions swirled around me. New friendships were already being formed and old ones reunited. The pair of flip flops in front of me moved forward, so I followed. After fifteen minutes of the shuffle ‘n’ stop, I reached the check-in desk. An older lady with short salt-and-pepper hair sat slightly hunched over, partially blocked by a large stack of thick manila envelopes. Never looking up, she recited a generic Welcome to Chambers spiel. All the noisy activity made it hard to hear every little thing the woman said. Her gaze and eyebrows lifted as she stared up at me.

  Terrific, it’s starting already.

  Not sure what to do, I gave her a weak smile and waited for instructions.

  “Name?” she said, impatiently.

  I was so flustered that for a second I’d forgotten who I was. “Hollis Murphy.”

  She scribbled something on a spreadsheet and handed me a packet with my name and the number two hundred ten typed out on the front sticker, which I assumed was my room number.

  In a flat bored voice, she said, “Everything you need to know is in the packet. Should you have any additional questions or needs after reading the information, please ask your RA. Have a productive semester. Next!”

  Clutching the envelope to my chest, my gaze shifted back down, and I walked quickly out of the office.

  As I turned the corner, a loud deep woot! jerked my attention down the hall. I took one step before crashing full force into something solid and warm. Stumbling back, I dropped the envelope. Once my balance returned, my eyes focused on a gray T-shirt with cut off sleeves, stretched across broad shoulders. When I glanced down in search of my envelope, I couldn’t help but spot the narrow hips and round ass covered in black basketball shorts. As I squatted to pick up the envelope, a tanned forearm came into view. My gaze roamed up to find the arm was covered in bulging muscles.

  “Oh god, I’m so… sor…ry,” I stammered, my cheeks heating with embarrassment.

  “Here ya go,” a deep voice said.

  Reaching for the envelope, my gaze inadvertently shot up to the warmest green eyes ever created. His dark brown hair was cut short on the sides, longer on top, and tousled. The perfect amount of scuff peppered his strong jawline, with deep dimples framing a sexy lopsided smile. The air was immediately sucked from my lungs. He wasn’t just hot, he was boy band hot.

  A deep chuckle drifted down before I realized he had stood up and was extending his hand to me.

  Oh boy! I get to touch him.

  I slipped my hand into his and felt an immediate jolt of electricity. The muscles in his arm twitched. He felt it too.

  “Thank you,” I said, as he helped me up.

  “I’m Risher Stevenson.”

  He was actually introducing himself to me.

  It had become a habit not to look directly at anyone, especially a stranger. I automatically angled my head down and to the left, to hide the messed-up side of my face. But those green eyes locked me in place.

  “Hollis Murphy.”

  “Nice to meet you Hollis Murphy.”

  “Sorry again about running into you. I need to do a better job at watching where I’m going.”

  The tip of his tongue slipped between his lips before they formed into a slight smirk. Just as he was about to speak, his name came barreling down the hallway.

  “Rish! Get your ass down here. We’ve got a ton of boxes to haul in.” A blond-haired guy was standing at the end of the hall.

  “I gotta go finish helping my friends move in.”

  I nodded.

  Risher took three steps before turning back toward me. “Don’t do too good of a job.”

  My eyebrows squished together in confusion.

  “At watching where you’re going. I hate to think I won’t get rump bumped again.”

  He winked before jogging away.

  I Sasquatched those shoulders, those hips, and that ass all the way down the hall.

  WINKING BRIGHT GREEN eyes danced in my head as I stood frozen in place after Risher disappeared around the corner. It had been a long time since a boy flirted with me.

  Was he flirting?

  Obviously, the lack of swoon in my life was causing me to read too much into his simple polite gesture. Lately, the only boys I had any contact with had been the ones I watched on screen. They were all sweet, thoughtful, hot, and ridiculously into me. I fantasy dated Channing, Zac, Matt, Charlie, among others. Admittedly, this made me a fanta-slut, but I would’ve been a crazy fool to turn any of them down. I hadn’t accepted what had happened to me as being an accident, but I had accepted, kind of, the fact that no real boy would ever want to be with me.

  Growing up, Mom always told me true beauty shined from the inside out.

  “Hollis, it’s your job to develop your heart and intellect. Your outside will develop on its own.”

  I had adopted this belief up until a year ago. After the incident, the practical application of it was difficult with half of my face destroyed. Holding on to a belief was easy when nothing challenged it. The hard part came when you’re forced to tap into that belief and realize it wasn’t as strong as you thought. Green-eyed boys with deep dimples and muscular arms didn’t give a shit how shiny I was on the inside. They just wanted smooth soft skin to run their hands and lips over.

  When all my stuff was in the room, Mom and I got to work making my half of the place cute. Knowing he’d only be in the way, Dad took off, shopping for a mini-fridge, microwave, and TV for my new home. He may not have been one hundred percent comfortable with me being this far away from his protective eye, but he was trying to be supportive.

  I was surprised to find an empty room. I assumed my roommate would have already arrived. I didn’t know anything about her except that her name was Abigail Daniels, she was from Georgia, and I had her email address. I looked her up on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr with no luck. I emailed her a few times hoping we could bond a little bit before actually meeting but she never responded. I was nervous to be sharing such close intimate quarters with a complete stranger. The only people I let see me without makeup over the past year had been my parents and Maggie. I had already worked out in my head ways to hide my face until I was comfortable exposing it to Abigail sans makeup.

  After a couple of hours of work, I stepped back to admire the transformation from dull dorm room to a Chambers University masterpiece. Mom had outdone herself with the college theme décor. Everything was in the school colors of navy blue and gray. The pair of panel curtains Mom made framed the one large window in the room. Since I never got any input from my roommate and the window was on my side, I picked out the material, navy background with thick gray stripes. My bedding was gray sheets, navy blue comforter, and various sized pillows in the same colors. Three posters lined my section of wall. On the long wall hung Emmy Neother, who was a genius in the field of abstract algebra and theoretical physics. She developed the foundations that Einstein built on for his theory of relativity. She was a badass. Next to her was Maryam Mirzakhani, the first female to win the Field’s Medal, which was one of the most prestigious awards a mathematician could win. And suspended over the head of my bed was the poster that read, “Never Discuss Infinity with a Mathematician. You’ll never hear the end of it.”

  God, I really was a geek.

  The finishing touches included the nightstand Mom found at a thrift store back home. She painted it cream and paired it with a small lamp and a navy blue shade. Dad got me the perfect size flat screen TV that fit on top of the dorm dresser, along with the mini-fridge that sat against the wall between my be
d and Abigail’s bed with the microwave stacked on top. He had also gone grocery shopping, stocking the fridge with a hodgepodge of items, including sodas, lunchmeat, and fruit cups. He placed a box in my closet filled with chips, bread, cookies, protein bars, and peanut butter. My parents were amazing. As we went down the checklist, making sure I had everything I needed, it dawned on me that the time had come for them to head back home.

  My throat tightened with each step as we walked down to their car. No one said a word during the short trip. I’d miss my parents, that was a given, but didn’t imagine saying goodbye would be this emotional. It was a combination of sadness and relief. Sadness, that we were phasing into a new stage of life and relief that we were moving forward from the worst year of our lives. Mom walked by my side, while Dad stayed a few steps ahead. When we reached the car, Mom turned toward me, tears begging to spill from her eyes. She pulled me into a hug.

  “You’re going to do great.” Her shaky voice caused the tears I’d been holding in to flow.

  Leaning back, she wiped my cheeks and said, “If there is anything you need, you call us. Anything.”

  “I will.” I choked out.

  She took one last look at me before getting in the passenger’s side of the car.

  My gaze then shifted to Dad. He was standing next to the driver’s side door with his back to me. At the sound of Mom’s door shutting, his head dropped forward. His shoulders rose and fell as he drew in a deep breath. I knew this was hard on him, but didn’t realize how hard until this moment. A year ago he came close to losing his only child and now he was having to let me go.

  He turned to me, his face streaked with tears. My dad rarely showed his emotions. The only other time I’d seen him cry was the night in the hospital when he first saw me after the incident. He tried to compose himself as he walked over. Our arms simultaneously wrapped around each other. The cheek I had pressed against his chest tingled with the vibration of his faint sobs. We stayed like this for several seconds. Normally, I would have stepped back by now, not wanting to draw attention. But the parking lot was full of similar moments like the one Dad and I were sharing.

  Realizing that he wasn’t going to be the first to break the hold or the mood, I said, “Daddy?”

  “Yes, Sweets?”

  “I can’t breathe.”

  The rumble of a chuckle tickled my cheek.

  He pulled back. “You have your ATM card?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “And some cash on hand? It’s important to always keep a little cash on you even though most places take debit cards now.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Have the oil changed in the car every three thousand miles and don’t let the gas get too low.”

  “I know.”

  “Remember, not lower than a quarter of a tank. Do you need me to go fill it up before we leave? It’ll only take me a few minutes.”

  “Dad, I’ll be okay.”

  “I know you will. It’s your mother I’m worried about. She’s a basket case.” He winked. “I love you, Hollis.” Pausing, he swallowed a sob. “And couldn’t be any more proud of you.”

  “I love you too, Daddy. Thank you for everything and I don’t mean just today.”

  It was surreal watching the car disappear. I walked back to my room, wiping the tears away with the end of my sleeve, and thought about how blessed I was to have Tom and Susan Murphy as my parents.

  The first hour alone in my room was spent fidgeting. I walked around, getting the feel of the place, channel surfed for a while, and tore into some of the snacks Dad had bought me. I was on edge, thinking that at any moment my roommate would show up. Looking out the window, I watched as students explored the campus. I thought about doing the same thing. I got as far as the door and then chickened out. Isolating myself like I had this past year caused me to develop a slight case of agoraphobia. I didn’t have anxiety attacks in crowds, I was just extremely uncomfortable. It was one of the things I hoped being here would help me get over. I mean, there’d be no way I could become a professor if I freaked out in front of my class.

  As the afternoon turned into evening, I relaxed. At this point, the chances of my roommate showing up today were slim. I kicked off my shoes, grabbed another bag of chips, and got comfortable on my bed ready to spend the rest of the night with Channing Tatum. I was just about to press Play on the remote when the door swung open and in walked a pink tornado, pulling a bright pink suitcase behind her.

  She was halfway in the room before noticing me.

  “Oh… hey.” She looked surprised and confused that I had made myself at home.

  I wasn’t sure how to take her reaction. She had to have gotten the same info about me that I had gotten about her. Plus, I had sent her a few emails. I didn’t mean to judge a book by its cover, but she looked to be pretty high maintenance. She was in head to toe pink—pink shirt, pink flower skirt, and pink flats. Her perfectly styled shiny hair was a mix of light brown and blond and hit right at her shoulders. Her makeup was light, almost nonexistent. She and I looked to be about the same height. Where I had curves, though, she was thin and toned, like an athlete.

  I scooted to the edge of my bed and stood. “Hey, I’m Hollis.”

  Her gaze darted around the room before landing on my outstretched hand. She reluctantly shook it while a brief smirk flashed across her glossy lips.

  The sound of a man and woman bickering hovered just outside the door. Abigail huffed and rolled her eyes as the couple entered the room. The man was weighed down with boxes while the woman pushed two more pink suitcases into the room.

  “Abigail, where do you want these boxes?” The man’s voice strained from exertion.

  “Just drop them anywhere.” Tossing the comment over her shoulder. She turned back to me. “I’m Abigail and these are my parents, Pastor Frank and Mrs. Daniels.”

  “Hey. I’m Hollis.”

  Grabbing both of my hands, Mrs. Daniels held them out and gave them a slight squeeze.

  “It’s wonderful to meet you, Hollis. What a lovely name you have and your side of the room looks adorable. I just know you and my Abigail will become fast friends.” She rattled the words off so fast, it took my brain a few seconds to catch up.

  With her eyes focused on me, Mrs. Daniels said, “Frank, come meet Abigail’s new friend.”

  Pastor Daniels stopped unpacking the box he was working on, walked over, and shook my hand. “Nice to meet you, young lady.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Sir.”

  I’d never been around a pastor other than when they were pastoring. Abigail’s dad was stiff and formal, the polar opposite of her mom. The look in his eyes put me on edge. Like he was sizing me up, judging me. It could have just been my nerves causing me to sense something that wasn’t there. Today had left me feeling a little overwhelmed with all the changes.

  I went back to my bed, grabbing a book to give me something to do while the threesome went about their business setting up Abigail’s things. The room was silent except for the sound of movement and the occasional question. I noticed a lot of pink coming from the two suitcases her mom was unpacking. Abigail was definitely a girly girl.

  It took less than an hour for Abigail and her parents to get set up. When the room went completely silent, I glanced out the corner of my eye to see the three standing awkwardly by the door. Sensing they needed some privacy, I excused myself to the bathroom. Though they didn’t come across as the touchy-feely type of family, I figured saying goodbye for the first time would stir up similar emotions like it had with my parents.

  Standing in the bathroom, I looked around for something to distract from the conversation on the other side of the door. It wasn’t my intention to eavesdrop, but the walls were thin. Plus, there was a limited number of activities a person could do in a bathroom before things got weird.

  “Are you sure you don’t need any help unpacking the last suitcase?” Mrs. Daniels said.

  I noticed everything got unpacked exce
pt for the suitcase Abigail had rolled in.

  “I’ll handle it, Mom. Thanks.”

  Pastor Daniels cleared his throat and mumbled, “We need to be heading back.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Abigail’s words were clipped.

  I heard rustling and knocking of boxes, then a set of heavy footsteps fade from the room.

  “Abigail, your father and I are trusting that you’ll behave yourself and make your studies the top priority.”

  Behave yourself. Preacher’s kid. Translation, she’s wild and here to party.

  “I told you I would, Mom.”

  “I know you did and I… we want to be able to trust you.”

  “You can.”

  “I love you, your father loves you, and God loves you. Do you have your Bible?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Seek strength in the Word, Abigail. God will see you through any and all difficulties.”

  “I know.”

  “You have to do more than know it, Abigail. You have to believe.”

  “I do, Mom.”

  The click of the door told me that Abigail was alone. I stayed in the bathroom several more seconds so it wouldn’t appear obvious that I had been listening to the intimate exchange. Two loud knocks on the bathroom door caused me to stumble back against the sink.

  “You can come out now.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, my hand hesitated on the door knob before opening it.

  When I entered the room, Abigail was putting a few things away in the top drawer of her nightstand, one of which looked to be a Bible. She didn’t speak or look up. My gaze swung from her to the floor. I had enough on my mind already with adjusting to college life. I didn’t need my roommate’s weirdness to tie another knot in my already crowded stomach.