I’M NOT OBSESSIVE

NEW YORK CITY REBECCA BENNETT The first thing Rebecca Bennett noticed about New York was that nobody seemed to have time for anybody. People walked as though the world would end if they slowed down. Cars honked impatiently, strangers argued over telephone calls, and expensive vehicles moved past buildings that looked as if they belonged in another universe. Rebecca watched everything through the window of the taxi, her fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of her suitcase. She was here. Actually here. New York. For a girl who had spent most of her life calculating expenses before making even the smallest purchase, arriving in a city like this felt almost unreal. Her phone vibrated. MOM …… Rebecca smiled before answering the call. “Have you arrived, baby?” “Almost, Mom.” “Are you sure you have everything? Your documents? Your admission letter? The money your father gave you?” Rebecca glanced at the small handbag resting on her lap. “Yes, Mom. I checked everything three times.” “And your medication?” “Mom.” “What?” “I’m nineteen, not nine.” Her mother laughed softly. “You’re my child. I’ll worry about you even when you’re ninety.” Something warm settled in Rebecca’s chest. She looked outside again, watching the unfamiliar city pass by. “I wish you and Dad could see this place.” “We will, sweetheart. One day, you’ll invite us to your graduation, and we’ll come and embarrass you in front of everybody.” Rebecca laughed. “Please don’t.” “Oh, we absolutely will.” For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then her mother’s voice softened. “Rebecca?” “Yes, Mom?” “We know things haven’t been easy. Your father and I know what you’ve sacrificed to get here. Please don’t feel like you have to prove your worth to anybody. You’ve already made us proud.” Rebecca swallowed. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry today. Not after spending weeks pretending she wasn’t frightened. Not after watching her father count the little money he had saved for her journey. Not after seeing her mother quietly slip a few extra dollars into her bag, even though Rebecca knew they could barely afford it. “I’ll make you proud,” she whispered. “You already have.” The call ended a few minutes later. Rebecca rested her head against the window. She had earned a full scholarship to Westbridge University, one of New York’s most prestigious private institutions. Thousands of students had applied, but only a fraction had received the opportunity she now held in her hands. She had worked for this. Late nights. Exhausting examinations. Rejections from opportunities she couldn’t afford to pursue. Days when the electricity went out while she was studying, forcing her to continue beneath the light of a rechargeable lamp. She remembered all of it. And she wasn’t about to waste a single opportunity. “Miss Bennett?” Rebecca looked up as the driver spoke. “We’re here.” She turned toward the window. A magnificent building stood before her, surrounded by carefully maintained gardens and towering trees. Students crossed the pavement carrying backpacks, coffee cups, and conversations that seemed far more interesting than the nervous thoughts filling her head. Rebecca paid the driver, stepped out, and pulled her suitcase onto the pavement. For several seconds, she simply stared. Then she lifted her chin. “Okay, Rebecca,” she murmured to herself. “Let’s do this.” She had barely taken five steps when someone bumped into her shoulder. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” A young woman with long, glossy hair hurriedly caught the coffee cup in her hand before it spilled. She was beautiful in an effortless way, dressed in a cream cardigan, fitted jeans, and white sneakers that probably cost more than Rebecca’s entire suitcase. The stranger glanced at Rebecca’s luggage. “You’re new, aren’t you?” “Is it that obvious?” The girl laughed. “A little. You have that look.” “What look?” “The ‘I have absolutely no idea where I’m going, but I’m determined not to let anyone notice’ look.” Rebecca blinked. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed. “I’m Isabella,” the girl introduced herself, extending a hand. “Isabella Cole.” “Rebecca Bennett.” “Pretty name.” “Thank you.” Isabella’s gaze moved toward the university entrance. “First year?” “Yes.” “What’s your major?” Rebecca told her. Isabella’s eyebrows rose. “Seriously? That’s impressive.” Rebecca smiled politely. “I’m just hoping to survive the first semester.” “Oh, you’ll survive. Probably.” “Probably?” “Westbridge has a talent for making perfectly intelligent people question their entire existence.” Rebecca laughed again. There was something easy about Isabella. She spoke to Rebecca as though they had known each other for longer than five minutes, and Rebecca found herself relaxing despite her initial nervousness. “Are you staying in the university residence?” Isabella asked. “Actually, I’m moving into an apartment nearby.” “With someone?” “With a roommate. Her name is Isabella Cole.” For a moment, the other girl stared at her. Then her mouth fell open. “Wait.” Rebecca frowned. “What?” “You’re Rebecca Bennett?” “Yes?” “The Rebecca Bennett who’s moving into my apartment?” Rebecca’s expression changed. “I’m sorry, what?” Isabella burst out laughing. “Oh, this is perfect! My mother told me you were arriving today, but she forgot to send me your picture. I’ve been standing here looking for a girl with a suitcase for twenty minutes!” Rebecca stared at her. Then she looked at her suitcase. Then back at Isabella. “You’ve been looking for me?” “Yes!” “And you nearly spilled coffee on me?” “An unfortunate beginning to a beautiful friendship.” Rebecca shook her head, laughing despite herself. She had expected awkward introductions, uncomfortable silence, and perhaps a roommate who would spend the entire semester pretending Rebecca didn’t exist. She hadn’t expected this. “Come on,” Isabella said, reaching for the smaller bag hanging from Rebecca’s shoulder. “Let’s get you settled. I have so much to tell you.” Rebecca hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t mind helping me?” Isabella gave her a look. “Girl, we’re going to be living together. If I can’t help you carry a bag, how exactly am I supposed to borrow your clothes?” Rebecca laughed. “You haven’t even seen my clothes.” “Details.” And just like that, Rebecca followed her toward the parking lot.