Ashes & Roses

Chapter 1

Wynter Rose Monroe

"Does it really matter? No one is gonna see it anyway."

My head tilted to the side with uncertainty as I chewed down on my bottom lip. While the majority of my things were still waiting to be unpacked, my new roommate seemed far more interested in getting a look at my wardrobe.

"Uhh, duh. Of course it matters. Every part of an outfit matters. Even the undergarments." Genevieve said it so matter-of-factly while studying her nails, picking at a piece of dirt underneath one of them.

I let out a small sigh as I looked down at the display of panties scattered across my bed. It wasn't exactly impressive. Actually, it was kind of sad. Most of them were plain. Black. White. Beige. A few faded colors I'd probably had since high school.

I frowned.

These couldn't possibly be the only panties I'd brought to college. I made a mental note to go shopping. My eyes wandered across the bed again before stopping on a pair of red lace panties I'd forgotten I even owned. I picked them up. At least these had some personality.I quickly slipped them on underneath my skirt before turning back toward my roommate. Genevieve was already waiting by the door.

She looked completely ready to take on the campus, dressed in a perfectly put-together preppy outfit with her designer luggage still sitting neatly beside the wall. Somehow, she'd managed to make moving into a dorm room look like an event.

"Finally." She laughed.

Before I could say anything else, Genevieve hooked her arm through mine and practically dragged me toward the door.

"Come on. We're going to explore." Genevieve was enthusiastic, as if she was on a mission.

"Do we have to?" I whined softly. I was hoping we would get a drink and lounge about somewhere.

"Yes." Genevieve was stern and her mind was not going to change. We traveled down the hall passing students who were still getting adjusted to their new rooms, I even heard bickering between roommates.

Move-in day was exciting, riveting, and completely nerve-wracking all at once. There was something terrifying about knowing that the next four years of my life were beginning right here. Would I actually like my roommate Would I be able to keep up with my classes? Would I excel or completely flunk out? Would I make friends? Would I enjoy the next four years of my life, or would I spend them counting down the days until graduation?

There were so many things I didn't know. But at least I had gotten lucky with Genevieve. We had clicked almost immediately.

She had walked into our room earlier that morning with her preppy outfit, designer luggage, and an air of confidence that made it seem like she'd already memorized the entire campus.

I was the complete opposite. I'd never been particularly good at making friends. Growing up, I was usually quiet and kept to myself. While other girls were going out, meeting people, and making memories, I was usually in a studio somewhere, stretching my legs or practicing choreography until my body ached.

Dance had always been easier for me than people. There were rules in ballet. Positions. Counts. Music. Movement. People were much harder to understand. But somehow, Genevieve had made it easy.

The two of us stepped outside, and the warm summer breeze immediately brushed against my skin. Late August still clung to campus, but there was already something different in the air. Soon enough, the trees would change. The sidewalks would be covered in fallen leaves. The warm summer evenings would disappear beneath crisp autumn air. And everything would feel different. I looked across the campus, taking in the buildings, the students, and the unfamiliar paths stretching out in front of me. For the first time, it really hit me. I was here. College. A new beginning. And I had no idea what was waiting for me.

Genevieve seemed to have no particular destination in mind. She simply walked. Every few seconds, she'd point something out, read a sign, or change direction because something had caught her attention. I followed beside her, trying to take everything in without looking completely overwhelmed.

The campus was larger than I'd imagined. Buildings stretched in every direction, connected by wide brick pathways lined with trees and benches. Students sat in small groups on the grass, some already dressed in school merchandise despite classes not having started yet. Others hurried past carrying boxes, backpacks, and iced coffees, their conversations blending into the warm afternoon air.

We passed a large building with glass doors and a marble entrance. Students were going in and out, and a banner hung above the entrance announcing the beginning of the academic year. My movements slowed, Genevieve noticed immediately.

"What?" Genevieve asked I looked up at the building in complete awe.

"The arts center." I whispered, I was so captivated by the building and the aura it radiated.

She followed my gaze. For the first time since we'd left the dorm, she didn't make a joke.

"You nervous?" She asked looking back at me.

I shrugged. My nerves were eating me alive but it wasn't something I wanted to casually admit.

That was an understatement. I'd spent years preparing for this. Years of early mornings, aching muscles, blisters, rehearsals, auditions, corrections, and moments where I wondered whether I was actually good enough. The scholarship had changed everything. It wasn't just an opportunity. It was proof that all those years had meant something. And that made losing it almost impossible to imagine. Genevieve studied me for a moment.

"You'll be fine." She said with a smile nudging my shoulder.

"You don't know that." I looked over at her shyly

"No, but I know you got here for a reason." Something about the way she said it made my chest tighten. I looked away before she could see how much it affected me.

We continued toward the arts building. Through the glass doors, I could see students carrying portfolios, instrument cases, dance bags, and garment bags. A few dancers were walking barefoot, their pointe shoes dangling from their fingers.

My eyes followed them. For the first time since arriving, I felt completely certain that I'd made the right choice. This was where I belonged. She looped her arm through mine again.

"You're going to need to lighten up for when I drag you through the rest of campus."

I laughed.

"You've already dragged me halfway across it."

"And we're not done."

We wandered for another hour.

Genevieve memorized the locations of every café she liked, found the student bookstore, complained about the prices of school merchandise, and somehow managed to learn more about the campus in one afternoon than I had during orientation.

Eventually, we ended up sitting beneath a large tree near the edge of the quad. I stretched my legs out in front of me, enjoying the brief break. Genevieve pulled her phone from her bag and started scrolling.

"You know-" she said after a moment, "We should probably figure out what we're doing tonight."

I looked over.

"Tonight?" I asked with wide eyes.

"It's our first night-" Genevieve nodded swiftly, her eyes scanning the quad ahead of us. Searching for a night activity.

"And we can't just sit in our dorm. We should do something fun" Genevieve whined softly trying to sway my hesitation. I leaned my head against the tree and looked across the quad.

Students were still arriving. Parents were still carrying boxes into dorm buildings. Friends were already forming groups. Everyone seemed to know where they were going. I didn't. Not really. But maybe that was okay. I had spent so much of my life knowing exactly what came next. The next rehearsal. The next audition. The next competition. The next performance.

For once, there wasn't a routine waiting for me. There was just the beginning. And somehow, sitting beneath that tree beside a girl I'd only known for a few hours, I felt like maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

"Let's go get some food, I'm so hungry" Genevieve pushed herself off the ground brushed herself off. I pushed up to my feet alongside with her eager at the thought of eating something.

Genevieve could talk to almost anyone. She'd already smiled at three strangers, complimented someone's shoes, and also got compliments from passing students. I found myself looking at Genevieve again. I wasn't trying to stare. I just couldn't help it. She was beautiful in a way that felt almost effortless. Tall, with a figure that somehow managed to look both athletic and feminine at the same time. Her curves filled out her clothes perfectly, but there was something strong about the way she carried herself that made her seem even taller. Her skin was deep and warm beneath the afternoon sunlight, and her dark hair framed her face in a way that made me understand why she seemed so confident about herself. Then there were her eyes. Almond-shaped and expressive, they seemed to notice everything. Even when she wasn't saying anything, I could usually tell what she was thinking just by looking at them.

I glanced down at myself. Then back at her. We couldn't have looked more different. Genevieve looked polished. Even when she was doing something as simple as picking at her nails, she somehow made it look intentional. Her clothes fit perfectly, her jewelry matched, and there was never a strand of hair that seemed out of place. I wondered if she had always been like this. So effortlessly beautiful. So completely sure of herself. I wasn't jealous. If anything, I was fascinated. I'd spent most of my life surrounded by mirrors because of ballet, but I'd never really looked at myself the way I was looking at her now.

Maybe because Genevieve didn't seem to question whether she belonged in the room. She simply did. And for some reason, I admired that about her. We couldn't have looked more different. I was comfortable disappearing into the background. Genevieve seemed incapable of it.

People looked at her when she walked by. Not because she demanded their attention, but because she naturally carried herself like she belonged wherever she was. And somehow, she didn't seem to notice, or maybe she did. Maybe she just didn't care. I found myself admiring that.

I'd always been more comfortable in a dance studio than surrounded by strangers. Ballet had taught me how to hold my body, how to control every movement, how to stand perfectly straight even when my muscles were burning.

Genevieve didn't seem to need to think about any of that. She simply moved through the world like she belonged in it. I wondered if confidence was something you were born with. If it was, Genevieve had definitely gotten more than her share. She suddenly turned her head toward me.

I must have been staring longer than I realized because Genevieve eventually turned her head toward me, catching me in the act. Her brows lifted in quiet amusement, and I immediately looked away, suddenly far more interested in the buildings ahead of us.

"You keep looking at me," she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. Heat rushed to my cheeks. I tried to deny it, insisting that I was only looking around, but the knowing smile on her face made it obvious she wasn't buying it. There was no point pretending anymore. I sighed and finally admitted that I thought she was very pretty. The words slipped out before I could stop them, and for once, Genevieve didn't have some clever response waiting for me. She looked genuinely surprised, her expression softening as she thanked me. Then she bumped her shoulder gently against mine before turning her attention back toward the campus. I couldn't help but smile.

By the time we reached The Commons, my stomach was practically growling. Genevieve laughed as we stepped inside, and the smell of pizza, fries, and something sweet immediately made me even hungrier. We grabbed our food and found a table near the windows.For a while, we ate quietly, surrounded by the noise of students settling into their new lives. I watched them through the window, wondering when this place would start feeling like home.

"You're thinking too much again," Genevieve said beside me. I laughed softly, realizing she was right.

She reminded me that we had four years to figure everything out. Four years. For the first time since arriving, the thought didn't scare me. Maybe college wouldn't be so bad after all.