A Season For Us

Eleanor pulled into the parking lot of Ironridge State University with the steady rumble of her black GMC truck echoing in her ears. The late summer sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue across campus buildings and sidewalks bustling with early arrivals. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel for just a moment before she exhaled and whispered to herself, “This is it.” This place, this moment—it was everything she’d been pushing toward for years. Hope clung to her like armor. After everything she’d endured—losing her parents, the group home, bouncing through foster care—college wasn’t just the next chapter. It was a brand new book. And she intended to write it on her terms. She didn’t bring much with her. A suitcase with clothes. A duffel stuffed with an assortment of items—some practical, some sentimental. Her black backpack sat in the passenger seat, weighed down with her laptop, a few required textbooks, a couple of notebooks, and a pouch of pens and highlighters. It was just enough to feel prepared without being overwhelmed. Her dorm building was tucked along the quieter edge of campus—a slightly newer complex styled like student apartments. Three bedrooms, each with their own ensuite bathroom, a shared kitchen, living space, and even a washer and dryer. It felt more like a home than any place she’d stayed in the last two years. She got lucky with roommates. Her best friend Lynn would eventually be joining her, though she was currently away on a school-sponsored biology program out west. That left Eleanor with the third roommate, a girl named Serena. Two years older. Stylish. Nice enough, but clearly more invested in her social calendar than her syllabus. Eleanor didn’t judge her—everyone had their own reasons for being here—but she had her eyes on something different: stability, growth, purpose. After hauling her bags inside and staking out her bedroom—she chose the room closest to the window, where the late afternoon light spilled across the wood-style floor—Eleanor made her first solo college run to the store. Her list was short and practical, but there was still something deeply satisfying about it. She picked a simple purple bed set—deep lavender sheets with a slightly darker comforter, soft and easy to keep clean. For the kitchen, she chose a plain white dish set, basic silver cooking utensils, and a few essentials: a small skillet, a saucepan, and a spatula. Not much, but enough to cook simple meals. Groceries filled her cart with quiet purpose—pasta, rice, canned soup, oatmeal, and a few fresh vegetables she knew how to prepare. In the personal care aisle, she tossed in a razor, a bottle of white grapefruit body wash, shampoo, and conditioner in matching citrus scents. Clean, bright, refreshing—just like she wanted this next chapter to be. She debated the bean bag chair for a minute—black, squishy, and way too big for her budget. But something about it felt right, like a little bit of comfort she could allow herself. A soft place to sit and read or decompress after a long day. So she added it to the cart and didn't look back. By the time she got everything unpacked, the sun had dipped behind the trees and the campus quieted down. Her bed was made, her books were stacked neatly on her desk, and the bean bag chair rested in the corner beside the window. She stood in the middle of her room, hands on her hips, and let herself take it in. This was her space now. Her beginning. She didn’t have much—not compared to some of the other students arriving with carloads of decor and coordinated furniture—but she had what mattered: a place to call hers, a path she was ready to walk, and the strength she’d earned surviving everything that came before. Ironridge State was more than just a university. For Eleanor, it was the first place in a long time that felt like it could be home. --- Eleanor was wiping down the kitchen counter when she heard the front door creak open and the familiar click of heeled boots on the entry tile. Serena. “Hey, just grabbing a few things before heading out,” Serena called, breezing through the shared space in a blur of perfume and confidence. Eleanor turned to see her roommate tossing a small tote over her shoulder, already halfway to her room. “Everything okay?” Eleanor asked, half out of politeness, half out of curiosity. “Yeah, just heading to Ryan’s place for the night. Thought I’d get out of your hair while you nest.” She gave a quick grin, already reappearing with a change of clothes and what looked like an overnight bag. “How’s the settling-in going?” “Pretty good,” Eleanor said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Went shopping yesterday, got the basics. Gonna finish up the reading list today.” Serena arched a perfectly shaped brow. “Reading list? Girl, classes don’t start until next week.” Eleanor shrugged with a slight smile. “I already read most of them in high school. Figured I’d get ahead.” Serena laughed, not unkindly. “You’re gonna make the rest of us look bad.” She pulled the door open, waving a hand as she left. “Catch you later, Hermione.” Eleanor rolled her eyes with a faint grin, watching the door close behind her. She liked Serena well enough, even if they lived on entirely different wavelengths. But at least there was no drama. That was enough. The rest of the day passed quietly. Eleanor stretched out in her bean bag chair with a blanket draped over her legs, a pencil tucked behind her ear, and her eyes on the final chapters of the last book on her syllabus. By noon, she closed the back cover, set the book aside, and leaned back with a satisfied sigh. Done. For lunch, she made herself a sandwich—just turkey, cheese, and lettuce on wheat—with a side of cucumber slices and a glass of water. It wasn’t fancy, but it was fresh and filling. As she washed her plate in the sink, the knock came. Right on cue: 1:15. She dried her hands and opened the door to find a guy in a utility shirt and Ironridge tech badge standing on the other side. “Hey there, I’ve got an appointment for a Wi-Fi setup?” “Yeah, that’s me,” she said, stepping aside. “Router’s on the desk in my room. I figured it’d be better in there since I’m paying for it.” “Sounds good. Shouldn’t take long.” While he worked, Eleanor scribbled the password on the whiteboard next to the fridge: WiFi: IRONNET Password: coffee&books2020 By 1:45, the tech guy was gone, the Wi-Fi was up, and Eleanor was finally able to stream music as she pulled her small TV from storage and set it up on her dresser. It was an older model, but it worked fine for what she needed—movies, news, background noise during study sessions. With the last cord plugged in, she stood back and surveyed her space. It felt lived-in now. Hers. The only bill she had to share was the electric, and she was already tracking her portion. The dorm was paid for through her tuition, which had come from the trust fund her grandfather had set up. Her parents had added to it, and though Eleanor didn’t know the full amount inside, she knew it would release in stages: now for college, then again when she turned 26, 30, 38, 40, and finally at 45 when she’d get full access. That made things a little less stressful. She knew how to live frugally. But she didn’t want to touch much more than she needed to. That’s why she’d picked up a part-time job—just two shifts a week—at a local coffee shop downtown. She’d start later that week. Eleanor pulled out her planner and scribbled a few notes for the upcoming week—classroom buildings to visit, supplies to double-check, shifts to confirm—and then leaned back in her chair. Everything was in motion. She was ready. Maybe not for every twist and turn that might come—but for this? For now? She was more than ready. And this time, she wasn’t looking back.