Where Do We Go From Here?

I walked into my room and began tidying up. I was doing anything I could to keep myself busy. I even threw a few loads into the laundry just so I wouldn’t have idle time for myself. I worked more on my stop motion project while reorganizing my vinyl’s. They used to be organized alphabetically, but now I have them in chronological order, going by the year in which they were released. My room was spotless by the time 7:30 had rolled around, and yet I was still restless.

I wouldn’t have minded having Callie come over, but I knew she and Mike were going to Austin’s party, which made me fret over the fact that Gielle and Carmen was there as well. I knew Tony was gonna drop in since he promised Austin that he would. I know I shouldn’t worry about Tony and Carmen being at the same party, but I was. I felt really dumb for worrying and even dumber for having Carmen’s words get to me. And without the convenience of having a cell phone, I couldn’t really contact anyone.

I sighed while collapsing on top of my bed as I waited for my laundry to finish. I grabbed The Looking Glass from my bag and began reading in hopes that I would somehow stop fretting over insignificant things. While reading there was one line that caught my eye, making me stop to re-read it.

Our life can never get too complicated to obscure what we truly want. However, our minds can become too overcrowded to know what we truly want. But in the end the heart will know best, it always knows best.

I smiled as I embedded Hubert Finnegan’s brilliance into my memory. It was like he always had something brilliant that could apply to my life. His words resonated with my worry, in which I found myself in a calmer state. I chuckled to myself as I got up to grab my clothes from the dryer. After folding and putting my clothes away, I took a quick shower. By then my parents had arrived home. I guess their appointment in the city must’ve taken a long time if they were only now returning.

My father popped his head into my room, checking up on me. I was in the middle of adding another fifteen frames to my project when he walked in.

“Hey dad.” I said; not sounding particularly enthusiastic or lackluster upon his entrance. I was still a little upset for being grounded for something that should be considered as a first offense.

“Hey kiddo.” He smiled before saying “Your mother and I just came back from the hospital. We were taking care of Ronnie’s paperwork for West Brooke.”

I inwardly shivered at the sound of West Brooke. When Ronnie and I were younger we would laugh whenever an advertisement for West Brooke would air on the TV. It always had some form of calming music playing in the background while a placid woman’s voice spoke of the enriching experience someone would get during their stay there. The advertisement would always feature the likes of calm people out in the garden, practicing yoga. However, everyone knew that it wasn’t always like that. West Brooke operated a tight ship that it somehow could resemble a prison, minus the iron bars and orange jumpsuits.

“Who chose that place?” I asked since West Brooke wasn’t the only rehabilitation center this city has to offer.

“Both your mother and I.” He admitted. “After meeting with some of the doctors there, we knew Ronnie could really benefit from that place.”

I bit my bottom lip; clueless as to what I should say next. I caught my father staring at the canvas on my wall.

“It’s for my art class. It’s a stop motion photography project.” I started to explain. “The painting is supposed to show the life and death of the field of flowers, but it’s kinda exhausting and time consuming.”

“You always did have a knack for art.” My father commented with a smile on his face.

I shrugged. “Well the role of being the rebel was taken by Jason and Veronica took the role of being beautiful, so I just settled for creativity and smarts.” I meant it as a joke, but I saw my father’s smile slip slightly.

“Verity, you know you’re beautiful right?” My father said.

“You have to say that, dad. It’s in the handbook.” I laughed.

“I’m being serious kiddo. You’re a very beautiful girl.” He said warmly.

I smiled while giving my father a hug. We never had talks like these since I happened to put distance between myself and my family. But recently I found myself growing comfortable with the idea of taking a few bricks down from my walls. It was a slow process to say the least.

“Thanks dad.” I said softly. “Anyway, I should finish up my homework since I missed school yesterday.” I smirked.

My father laughed. “Please tell me that won’t be a reoccurring incident.”

“I don’t like being grounded, so it won’t happen again.” I vowed.

My father stood, walking towards my door as I got up to walk over to my painting.

“That Tony kid, is he—is he your boyfriend?” He asked.

“Not technically.” I answered honestly. “We still have yet to go on an official first date.”

My father’s face flushed a little, something that usually happens when he’s about to say something embarrassing. “Do we need to have the talk?” He asked in a hushed voice.

My eyes widened while my cheeks turned crimson. Shaking my head, I said “No. We uh—we haven’t—it hasn’t come up.”

My father nodded. “Good to know.” With that he closed my door, making me cringe with embarrassment.

After another hour of working on my project, I called it quits, retiring my camera and cramping hand for the night. I decided to check my emails, hoping to see any replies from any of the universities. During my application process over the summer, I kept in contact with one of the students who attend Columbia. Her name is Lori and as of right now she’s going into her third year there. We would email each other every few weeks, asking about each other’s lives.

The reason I contacted her was because I wanted to hear—from a student’s perspective—how campus life was. Lori was a part of the contact mentors for Columbia—aside from the initial admissions officers, of course. In fact, there were four students names listed—Marlene, Gavin, Dean, and Lori. It was by happenstance I chose Lori, and it was only because her name rhymed with Dori, and I—at the time—had just finished watching Finding Nemo.

Upon my first email to her, I told her about my interest in Columbia and how I aspired to venture into the works of literature, something she too is majoring in. Since then we’ve come to find that we share similar interests in both music and movies. She has spilled to me that Columbia offers great opportunities for aspiring writers, and they even have a strong political science program. That assurance sparked enough fire for me to hope that Columbia would accept me into their family.

Clicking open Lori’s email, it read

Bonjure Verity,

Comment tallez vous? Je suis bien.

I know you dabble in a bit of French, so I’d thought that this would make you smile. Aside from my poorly articulated French, I am doing swell. I have rigorous classes this semester that makes my skin crawl, but I know it will be worth it once I’m holding my diploma. Campus, as usual at the beginning of semester, is nothing but full of spirit and rallies. They’re having rallies in the quad every six hours just so students will participate in the Amnesty International Write-A-Thon.

Anyway, the true reason I am emailing you, is that the admissions committee is extending an invitation for curious high school seniors to tour campus. (You will receive a letter in the mail soon. I’m sure of it.) So, I hope you’re itching to travel to the cold east coast to experience—for a weekend—what campus life is like. There will be tours and different activities for you to experience, and also you will have the chance to board in the dorm rooms. Exciting, right?

Well, I hope all is well with you and I really hope that you will accept the invitation that way we can meet in person since I already consider you a friend of mines. Best of wishes to you.

Sincerely,

Lori.

I quickly scanned through Lori’s email with eager eyes. I read it again just to make sure I hadn’t misread or misunderstood her message. I smiled broadly as I stared at my computer screen. Thinking back to the quote in The Looking Glass, I knew what I wanted, and it was to go to Columbia.

Notes

Y'all are too nice in your comments! *Blushes* I am so happy that you all are enjoying this story.

Thanks for reading!! <3

PS
For those who are still curious about the stop motion project, I finally found the video that inspired me to incorporate it into this story. Here's the link: Broken Fingaz.