Chapter Four Sam
CHAPTER FOUR
SAM
When I finally make it to my dorm, the sun is setting. My keys rattle in my hand as I struggle with the lock, but after a few seconds, it finally gives way. With a grunt, I push inside, dragging my bags across the threshold.
“Shit,” I huff, dropping everything so that I can massage my neck where the strap of my duffel bag dug into my skin.
Toting all of these bags around campus while lost was no picnic. Now, I’m a tired, panting mess by the time I close the door behind me. Once I do, I turn around and come face-to-face with who I assume to be my new roommate. She stares at me, her mahogany eyes wide.
She’s cute in a bubbly kind of way, with long, brown hair that she wears straight, and brown skin that’s a similar complexion to my own. She smiles, immediately takes one of my bags and brings it farther inside.
“Hi,” she says, her voice high-pitched and full of excitement. “I’m Gracie Martinez.”
For a moment, I stare at her, taken aback by how friendly she is. I’ve only been at this school a few hours, but I can already say that she’s drastically different from everyone else I’ve encountered.
I clear my throat. “Sam. Sam Collins.”
She’s dressed in pink socks with polka dots, shorts, and an oversized T-shirt that hangs off one shoulder.
“Nice to meet you.” She sticks out her hand for me to shake.
I glance down at it, then back up at her before accepting her offer. “Likewise.”
She nods, sets my suitcase next to my bed, and then glances around the room as if unsure of what’s next. The air around us is awkward, but that has probably more to do with me than it does with her.
I’m not exactly the friendliest these days, and meeting new people has always been a struggle.
Gracie steps away, moving farther into the room. I watch her momentarily, then drop my bag on the edge of the bed. Finally, I take in my surroundings, mentally accepting that this will be my home until graduation.
It’s an upgrade from my room back home, even with having to share with a total stranger. The walls are intact, and the stench of cigarette smoke isn’t stinking up the place. In fact, Gracie has at least two wax burners going with a subtly cozy aroma.
It’s nice.
And the more I take in, it’s obvious she comes from money.
Her side of the room reeks of spoiled rich kid.
It’s not enough that she seems to have brought her entire bedroom here.
Her perfume collection alone could pay my tuition for an entire year, and that’s not including all the expensive makeup brands she owns.
Even her bedding is top-notch, with pink and yellow decor everywhere.
Then, there is my side of the room, akin to a prison cell with bare walls and a single desk. Not that I expected there to be more. After all, this is college. And I didn’t exactly expect them to roll out the red carpet for their students who don’t come from wealthy families.
At least the school splurged and provided us with a full-size bed, but the bedding is a dreadful beige. It’s better than nothing, so I’ll make do. But I can already tell this is going to be a long two and a half years as one of the few students born without a silver spoon.
I know it’s wrong to judge people. For all I know, she’s the sweetest person on campus, but it’s hard not to make assumptions when life has dealt you a shitty hand.
Plus, if I’ve learned anything from my experiences back home, it’s that overly friendly people are masking something.
Those are the ones you need to watch out for.
But I put my apprehension behind me and suck in a breath. If there’s one thing Momma taught me, it’s not to be rude when the person has been nothing but nice to you.
“So, you’re all moved in, I see,” I say to help break the silence.
Gracie chuckles and looks at her area. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot, but I just wanted to feel at home.”
I unzip my duffel bag and shake my head. “No, I totally get it. We’ll be spending a lot of time here, so why not make it your own.”
“Exactly. I’m glad you get it.” Gracie smiles and sits on her bed with one leg beneath her.
“It must have taken you hours to set all that up. What time did you get in?” I remove my satin pillowcases from my bag and begin to cover the pillows. If I do nothing else, I’m going to protect my hair.
“It did. But that was two years ago, so I barely even remember it.”
I frown, taken aback by her response. “You aren’t a sophomore? I thought they assigned sophomores to the same room.”
Gracie shuffles in place. “Oh. Yeah, well. Usually, but I guess they made an exception for you.”
“Mm,” I mutter.
It seems they’ve been making a lot of exceptions for me.
First, the scholarship, which isn’t such a surprise.
They’ve given out hundreds of scholarships over the years, so that’s not out of the ordinary.
But they didn’t stop there. Not only is my tuition covered for the next three years, but so are my housing and meals.
“So… Sam. Is that short for something?” she pries, her voice hopeful.
I feel bad because I get the sense that a friend is what she’s looking for, and that’s not really a part of the plan. Then I remember Momma’s words again.
Kindness takes you a long way, my pretty girl. Always kill them with kindness.
Sometimes I wish I could ask her where kindness ever got her.
“Samantha.”
“That’s pretty.”
“Thanks,” I quip.
There’s more awkward silence as I empty my suitcases and put my clothes in the dresser they have for me.
“You didn’t bring much with you. Is this everything you have?” she asks, her eyes wide.
I stop and look at her. My chest tightens, and my heart starts to race. And now the judgment begins. That didn’t take long at all.
Though I expect nothing less from people at this school, it still makes me uncomfortable. Not just because of what she thinks about me but more so because of how true the statement is.
This really is all I have.
All I’ve ever had.
With a sigh, I force a smile. “Yeah,” I say, holding her gaze. “It is.”
She nods, her expression softening. “I’m sorry.” Her voice wavers as if she’s embarrassed by her actions. “That was rude. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay,” I cut her off. “Don’t worry about it.”
We stay silent for a moment, staring at each other. Neither one of us moves, nor do we attempt to speak again. Instead, we just let the awkward silence fill the room while we both try to figure out what to do next.
“Wait.” Gracie finally hops down from her bed and saunters over to her closet. The door creaks as she slides it open. A moment later, she pulls out a square-shaped bag and inside it is a comforter set. One of those expensive ones that cost at least a few hundred dollars.
“Here.”
“What?” I ask, my brows pinched tight.
“You can have it.”
I shake my head, pushing the bag toward her. “No. You don’t have to do that.”
“Sam, I want to. And trust me. You’ll want these. The bedding they give us feels like steel wool. These will be much better.”
I glance down then back up at her. “But these are yours. I can’t take them.”
“Sure you can. I keep two extra sets in my closet anyway. Plus, we’re going to be friends, and last I checked, friends look out for each other.”
I stare at her for a second, studying her face. I’m speechless from her sudden act of kindness.
“Thank you.” It’s all I can say past the lump in my throat. Taking the bag from her, I turn to face my bed. The comforter does look like it’s made of the hardest fabric in existence.
“Let me help.” She gets to work stripping the linen from my bed.
I don’t even bother to stop her. What’s the point? I can see now that she would only insist. Maybe I was wrong about her.
“What’s your major?” Gracie asks while taking the bedding set from my grasp and removing the fitted sheet. I jump in to help, taking one end from her and stretching it onto the top portion of the mattress.
“Psychology,” I answer, my voice low and strained. “Yours?”
“Kinesiology. What classes are you taking this semester?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure yet.”
“How do you not know?” She pauses to look at me.
“There was some kind of mix-up with my schedule,” I explain. “I tried to get it worked out when I went to pick up my key earlier, but they were busy with only one person working and a line of students waiting. So all she cared about was making sure we got our dorm assignments.”
“Yeah, that sounds like something they’d do.” She sighs and continues toward the other end of the room. “Well, you should go first thing in the morning. It’ll be less crowded since most people won’t be getting up that early.”
“Thanks,” I add with a grateful smile.
When we finish dressing the bed, Gracie takes the old linen and tosses it in the bag the others came in before throwing them at the back of my closet.
“Have you eaten? I’m about to head down to the food hall. Did you wanna come with?”
I blow out an embarrassed breath. “That’s another thing I need to get tomorrow. I haven’t received my meal card yet.”
“They’re so unprepared this semester,” Gracie chimes.
“Yeah. Tell me about it. You go ahead. I brought ramen from home.”
“Come. I’ll cover you.”
I shake my head, sensing I’ll be doing a lot of that where she is concerned. “Gracie, really. I’m f—”
“Are you really going to make me eat alone? What a way to start off this budding friendship,” she teases. “Really. It’s not a big deal.”
“Fine. But tomorrow’s dinner is on me.”
She laughs while slipping on a pair of low-top sneakers. “Deal. Now let’s go, I’m starving for some tacos. They aren’t nearly as good as my abuela’s, but they aren’t bad.”
When we get to the dining area, my eyes roam over the room. Students are everywhere, most of them seated at tables or walking through the aisles with their trays full of food.
“Come on.” Gracie tugs at my arm.
I follow her lead, weaving through the crowd while staring at the walls.
Everything about this place screams rich, from the marble floors to the flat-screen televisions mounted high above our heads.
The chandeliers hanging from the ceiling look like they cost more than a person’s entire life savings.
Not that I have a life savings, but that’s beside the point.
This doesn’t even feel like a college cafeteria. There’s no long line leading up to a buffet-style counter. No lunch ladies serving mystery meat on plastic trays.
This feels more like something straight out of a movie.
Like those private schools for kids whose parents have too much money and not enough time.
It’s set up like a mall food court, complete with different options of cuisine and beverage stations.
You could probably find anything you want here.
Hell, you might even be able to order a steak if you ask the right person.
“It’s crazy, huh?” Gracie says after clearing her throat to break my trance. “I know how overwhelming SKU can be, especially when you first get here.”
“Yeah,” I say breathlessly. “This isn’t what I’m used to.”
“Where did you transfer from?”
“The junior college.” I let out a puff of air. “It was nothing like this, that’s for sure.”
Gracie moves to the front of a taco station that has an assortment of options to choose from.
“Three steak tacos, please. Lots of onions and cilantro,” she tells the guy behind the counter.
He nods; then he looks over at me with his eyebrows raised.
“Can I do the same?”
“Sure thing.” He flashes me a smile.
A few seconds later, he hands us two plates. These aren’t those cheap paper ones that most schools use. They’re real and have gold edges. After grabbing drinks and checking out, we make our way to an empty table.
We sit in comfortable silence while we eat, only speaking when one of us wants to know more about the other.
The conversation is easy now, no longer awkward like it was earlier.
I find myself relaxing around her—and if I’m honest, that’s a little weird for me.
I guess that’s what happens when you make a new friend. You become vulnerable.
“This is your third year, and your sanity still seems to be intact. So tell me, how does one survive here?”
She doesn’t speak right away. I notice her eyes are darting between me and whatever—or whoever—is behind me. I turn to see Everest and the guys he was with earlier.
My heartbeat picks up against my will at the sight of them. There are different girls with them this time, and another guy with dark hair and just as attractive as the rest of them.
One of the girls is sitting on the table, with her friends all around her.
She stares in our direction, her gaze shooting past me and straight to Gracie.
She’s blond and gorgeous, with a tan that says she just left the beach even though there isn’t a body of water for hours.
She flips her wavy hair, a smirk playing on her lips.
I stare between them, both confused and concerned by the sudden change in Gracie’s demeanor.
There is clearly bad blood between them, and whatever it is, Gracie’s probably got the bad end of it.
Why else would she be over here with an unknown new girl instead of over there with the other popular kids?
Gracie doesn’t break, though. She holds the girl’s gaze with the same venom, and I can’t lie… it’s impressive. But then the dark-haired guy the girl is sitting next to turns in his seat to see what she’s looking at. With his attention on Gracie, all the life seems to drain from her face.
He smirks, too, and it’s almost as if they’re taunting her. Turning back to face Gracie, I slide over so that all she can see is me.
“Who is that? What was that all about?”
“Christina Lindsey.” She seethes, her bubbly persona an afterthought. “You wanna know how to make it at this school? Stay away from them.”
I frown, my curiosity stronger than ever.
“The girls or the guys?” I question with a glance back at their table, my eyes connecting with Everest.
His jaw ticks, and darkness flashes in his eyes. He really is different from the boy I knew. The sound of Gracie’s plate scraping the table grabs my attention, and I turn to see her standing to leave.
“All of them.”