8. Millie
CHAPTER 8
Millie
I make a concerted effort to memorize my steps as I trail behind Caden, trying to keep up but failing miserably. He’s taking two stairs at a time, a suitcase in each hand, without so much as breaking a sweat. I think I might have to call in the emergency services if my heart doesn’t stop walloping against the walls of my chest. If I’d known I was going to be on the third floor of the staff house, I might have rethought my plans and whether this move was really worth it.
This house feels like it was built in the stone ages, the sixties at best. One glance at the crumbling paint on the walls has any hope of a functioning elevator disintegrating.
“Room 14.” Caden drops a key into my palm. “Maura will be at the lodge reception when you’re ready.” He wastes no time leaving, jogging down the stairs as if he can’t get away from me fast enough.
The feeling is mutual.
I knock softly three times before turning my key in the lock and pushing the door open. I expect a musty smell similar to the hallway, but instead I’m met with the soft scent of amber incense and moss. One half of the room is decorated in a vibrant display of oranges and yellows, with throw blankets and Aztec pillows scattered across the bed. Macrame plant hangers line the walls, while a collection of photographs in colourful hand-made frames occupy the left side of the dresser. The other side of the room is completely bare, as though an invisible line separates the two halves. Save for a single beat-up pillow and a rolled-up twin duvet at the bottom of the bed, the space is a blank canvas.
I guess this is me.
I haul my suitcases across the faded carpet and into the dorm, wondering how on earth Caden managed to carry one of these with such ease, let alone two.
I’m exhausted after the journey, weighed down by lack of sleep and nervous anticipation of what’s to come. I’m going to have to repeat days like this several times over in the coming weeks. Meeting new people, hoping to make a good impression, and then quickly realizing that I don’t fit in with them either.
The thought clogs in my gut like tar.
I step over the invisible border into my roommate’s half. It’s easy to pick her out from the photos, she’s the only one in every picture. Braided blonde hair, tall and thin, with an affinity for patterned sweaters. I run my finger along one of the frames. Her arms are wrapped around a sequoia tree, one leg cocked up behind her as she looks up at the sun filtering through the branches above. Laughter dances across her face.
She looks so free .
A pang of jealousy moves through my veins like barbed wire.
I’d imagined how this moment would feel a hundred times over. I thought I’d arrive and feel like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, that the hardest part would be leaving. I’d get here and just know that this was the right decision. That I’d instantly feel at home and like this is the place for me. Instead, I’m alone in the dull half of a shared room, with no one to talk to and no idea where to go from here.
The one person I’ve met today seems to hate me already, and instead of showing my softer side and winning him over, I instantly put up my walls. My bratty attitude and outbursts gave him the perfect evidence to back up whatever story he’s told himself about me.
I really thought this would be easier, but the reality is already overwhelming me.
Disappointment pulls at my cheeks, a frown developing where I thought there would only be smile lines from now on as I slump down on my bed.
The frame creaks beneath my weight, reminding me that any luxuries I had at home are now gone.
I’d gone shopping for new bed linen the day after Maura offered me the job. She explained the staff house at length, highlighting the shared kitchen on the main floor and the reality of sharing a single shower block with fourteen other girls. None of that had bothered me, but I’d felt myself recoil when she noted that I’d have to sleep in a twin bed.
Leaving behind my queen-sized bed was up there with the hardest of my goodbyes .
The only twin sheets I could find in the apartment were a relic from Maddie’s childhood, and I wasn’t going to be the twenty-seven-year-old sleeping under a glittery princess duvet in the staff quarters. So I splurged on gingham linen sheets in pastel green, paired with a hand-knitted cream blanket and matching silk pillowcases.
That Millie was hopeful, but this one just feels utterly defeated.
I don’t bother to unpack the bedding from my suitcase, instead pulling the bare, pilled duvet up over my shoulders and closing my eyes tightly to hold in all of the emotions begging for release.
“Hey… hey.” The words are distant, dripping in an accent I can’t quite make out. I feel two hands moving my shoulders back and forth. “Hey… Wake up.”
Suddenly aware of the person standing over me, I sit bolt upright. I throw her arms away from me and scamper back against the wall, gasping as my lungs grapple for air.
It’s the girl from the dresser photographs – my roommate.
“Sorry,” she mouths apologetically, taking a step back with both hands raised. “You were writhing like some kind of wild animal. I thought I’d do you a favour and wake you up from whatever nightmare you were stuck in.”
I nod, trying to re-calibrate my mind and bring myself back to the present. I have no idea what time it is, or how long I’ve been asleep for. Rifling through my tote bag, I pull out my phone and plug the charger into an outlet.
Her eyes rake over me, filled with something in between sympathy and curiosity. “Let me get you some water.”
A drawn-out croak leaves the door’s hinges as she yanks it open and steps out into the hallway.
I’m drenched in cold sweat, a stark contrast to the wave of searing embarrassment that washes over me as I realize I’ve butchered yet another first impression here in Braggan Valley.
My new roommate is probably down there in the kitchen, wondering what the hell she did to deserve Little Miss Unhinged as her summer roommate.
I drag a wet wipe over my face in an attempt to soothe my flushed skin, removing remnants of cracked foundation and smeared mascara from my cheeks.
The girl returns, passing me a pint glass filled with water and dropping a granola bar on to the bed next to me. She falls back into her own bed, letting out a deep sigh coated in fatigue.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Millie,” she says, taking a bite out of a banana before continuing with a full mouth, “I’m Elodie.”
“Hi,” I murmur back, raising my hand in a half-hearted wave. She knew my name already. This small-town thing really is going to take some getting used to.
I take her in as she leans back against her headboard. She’s wearing high-waisted black dress pants with a polo shirt tucked in at the waist, the Braggan Valley Lodge logo embroidered into the chest. She looks just like the pictures, with thick blonde hair falling down her back in a Dutch braid and spirited green eyes that catch the light differently at each angle. Even dressed in her work uniform, and clearly worn-out from the day, she still seems abundantly free and full of life.
We exist in companionable silence as I slowly begin unpacking shirts from my suitcase and placing them into drawers while she lounges with her arm flopped over her eyes, blocking out the afternoon sun.
I’m running the last five minutes over in my head, trying to erase all of my awkward moments and replace them with something objectively cooler when her voice breaks through the quiet.
“Shall we just cut the bullshit?” she asks, rolling on to her side to face me. She must catch the confusion on my face. “You know, instead of the boring getting to know you questions, and trying to work out if we’re coming on too strong, or giving the right impression. Can we just fast forward to the part where we’re friends and tell each other about all the dumb shit that goes on around here?”
Laughter bubbles up through me. I drink in her kindness, it’s exactly what I need after my rough start this morning. Somehow, she seems unphased by the generous dose of crazy she witnessed when she woke me up.
“I’ll drink to that,” I affirm, taking a gulp of my water in the absence of vodka and extending my pinky in her direction. Wrapping her finger around mine, she shakes on our promise.
“I’ve gotta head back.” Elodie jumps up from the bed, smoothing her hands down her polo and checking herself over in the mirror. “See you later, Mills.”
She blows herself a kiss and then darts out into the hallway before I have a chance to offer my own goodbye.
Mills .
Warmth fills my cheeks at the light relief of hearing my nickname on the lips of someone new.