Chapter 1
479 Words
Rebecca Whitmore snatched the screening report out of my hand while our dorm room door was wide open and people were walking past in the hall.
She deliberately raised her voice. "Amelia, you really have a lump?"
Chloe Benton swiveled around in her chair, and Natalie Palmer pulled back her privacy curtain. They both burst out laughing.
Rebecca tapped the report with one fingernail. "Keep a positive outlook and avoid stress."
She dragged out every word. "Even your doctor knows you're a lot to deal with."
The phone beside her lit up, and I noticed its camera was pointed straight at my report. At the time, I assumed she was only checking a message.
I learned later that some people could smile at you while already plotting how to hurt you next.
I used to think that when you shared a dorm, you put up with whatever you could.
When she complained that I took too long in the shower, I started going earlier. When she said I ate too loudly, I took my bread to the stairwell. When she mocked me for being poor and obsessed with grades, I stopped mentioning my scholarship.
Whenever I called home, she mimicked me in a high-pitched whine. "Mom, I'm so tired."
The whole room howled with laughter. With tears stinging my eyes, I told her to stop.
She spread her hands. "Amelia, I just tell it like it is. Don't be so sensitive."
That excuse worked every time.
It worked so well that everyone eventually decided I was the problem whenever I didn't laugh along.
That day, I suddenly smiled too.
Rebecca arched a brow. "What are you smiling about?"
I took back the report, folded it, and tucked it into the bottom of my backpack. Then I pointed at the laundry pods on her desk. "That's the fourth one of mine you've used today."
Rebecca's expression stiffened. I added, "Can't you afford your own?"
Chloe nearly spat out the fruit snack in her mouth. Natalie frowned. "Amelia, why are you being so rude?"
I looked at her. "Rude? I just tell it like it is."
The room fell silent for several seconds.
Rebecca stared at me as her smile slowly faded. "Well, look at that. The lump came with an attitude."
I ignored her.
That night, she deliberately aimed her hair dryer at my privacy curtain and blasted hot air through the gap.
I pulled the curtain open. "Rebecca."
She switched off the dryer. "Did I bother your delicate nerves again?"
I studied the ends of her hair. "Your hair looks like the bristles on a busted broom."
Her face darkened.
I added, "Don't take it the wrong way. I'm only trying to help."
For the first time in a long while, I fell asleep almost immediately that night.
It turned out that giving it right back felt pretty good.
- Writer
