Wingspan chapter two

"It's not so bad." mom says.

Speaking first was her way of easing me into transition.

Even I had to admit my silence was growing uncomfortable.

I was busy trying my best not to freak out since it would be my new regular habitat for the next eight months or so. It wasn't too late to cross over a different prospect. I had to graduate, but there was a nonconforming route left to explore.

Ultimately, no matter what option I picked, I needed to follow through on my word. I promised to give it a try and I would.

Looking up I recognized the building came from the French Renaissance. I was amazed to see how well preserved it was and wondered if, by some chance, it had any of those high structured ceilings I read about in books for interior decorating. Because I could only see the top of it I had a desire to know with a closer examination, like, say, if I stood approximately two feet away from the entryway, would I be guaranteed the same reaction of goose bumps much like the ones I had just upon skimping a glimpse of tiers from a great distance. It excited me to find out.

"Do you want me to help you settle in?" mom unexpectedly asks me.

While preoccupied in a calm wave of marveling at the buildings' design I completely forgot that she was parked curbside.

I shake my head disobediently. "No. I can handle it. Don't worry about me." I say to her grinning.

It was a lie repeated so often that I stopped questioning it.

Mom jerks the key forward and the engine rumbled to life.

I take a step moving away from the passenger side door to watch the black smoke drift out the exhaust pipes.

Reaching backwards mother extends her arm to full-grabbing range and puts the seat belt on without much difficulty. "Well, good luck." Remaining composed she looks at me. "I'll try to keep in touch." She promises.

Mother was good at throwing people under the rug in favor of pretending that our home life was perfectly stable. Thus I didn't hold on to any expectation of seeing her again.

Without uttering a sound I watch as she rolls the window up and looks past her left shoulder for passerby's.

Carried away by jarred emotions I stay put once she drives back the twisting course we came. The main features of her car were riddled by layers of ice. Mom had a bag of rock salt underneath the seat in case it was difficult for her to look past the windshield.

Patches of snow lift in the air when she makes a U-turn along the deserted road and speeds off toward the main highway where the only source of a decent shopping center in town was.

Soon enough the only thing I could see was a reflection bouncing from snow crystals of a red glimmer which I determined came from her rear tail lights. "Awesome. I can't wait till you show up in my dorm unannounced." I whisper out loud against the fierce gust of wind that started to pick up.

With the folder securely below my arm I bend down. Carefully I grab my suitcase by the handle once I could no longer see the blue rectangular silhouette of the Impala. With mom gone there was no excuse to keep still in one place for much longer. The studious distinguished population that surrounded me were primarily successful because they stayed determined and preserved momentum from escaping, which meant I had to be one step ahead of them if I wanted to have one foot in the game pool.

Looking ahead I sigh. It was going to be a long walk indeed. I had to start moving before someone found me and came to false conclusions that I was pretending to be homeless. If, for example, a select group of people sitting in a Volkswagen passed on through, I was pretty sure that in their eyes I would seem lost. When in reality, nothing could shake me.

I needed to feel something in order for that to happen. I was numb all over. Instinct told me pick up my feet and get some place higher.

Before walking any further I fix my hoodie and pull on the strings to protect my face against the harsh unpleasant wind. The mountains were nearby; all it took was a thirty minute drive for locals and reliable tourists to reach their destination, a well-known travel site where they could engage in a varied amount of winter fest activities. The merciless weather had me shivering from a lack of blood distribution. I wasn't sure, but I hoped for there to be a heated device, anything portable or built in to defrost me once inside would do.

Hunched over I blindly walk on past the iron gate to the office.

I had no real sense of where I was going but I figured it was inevitable before I discovered a sign of life. Eerie scenery aside it seemed like the majority of the area was abandoned if not for the odd amount of keepsake soccer balls which remained left outside to perish on the stale dead grass.

I kept straight along the narrow dirt path, practically ruining the sides of my grey chucks as stray bits of mud trailed inside sticking to my socks, but I didn't care to change direction so long as I made it on time. The real issue I had was time itself since there was no idea of knowing how late I truly was, or early.

Doing my best to block out the memory tapes I lower my head.

I was having a nervous breakdown. It never mattered how strong my personal resolve was because eventually I would submit. No matter how reluctant, in the end, all that was left for me to do was relive a lapse in judgment.

With the door open I could hear what they were saying; it's not like they conducted themselves discreetly. As news of the incident circulated they sat together discussing options that would benefit both parties. "Believe me, when it comes to this, I am on your side. Unfortunately there is not much I can do for you besides dispensing a referral. Your daughter would benefit from seeking the advice of a qualified clinician, somebody that would be able to further monitor her condition more carefully. And I happen to know just the person." He smiled.

I felt sick to my stomach watching moms reaction. By the looks of it they were mapping out my year end plan without even so much as consulting the lead amateur player in all of it, me.

The principle made no attempt to hide his 'professional' opinion about my "certainly strange behavior".

At the time 'I thought I was a goner' but then, out of nowhere, mom shocked us all by changing her mind at the last possible second. The wheels in my head turned as I heard mom tell the professor 'thank you, but no'.

I was lucky that my former counselor reached out to a few of her connections and offered a room for me to stay in the meantime. Thanks to her I didn't take up residence in a small enclosed single person capacity, disengaged from the world letting strangers observe me from afar while drawing obscure paintings with oil pastels in my snoopy cotton pajamas.

During the conference and throughout my entire denouncement to be removed from public schooling one sure fire promise remained. Once graduated I would no longer have to deal with mom and Jett's frequent scorn-filled rejections. I could go anywhere I wanted. That kind of power alone was dangerous.

I lift my head up once I hear someone yelling out instructions for the ungrateful delinquents to shut up and settle down already.

Thinking now was my chance to find the Admitting Office I pick up my pace and come to a steady halt when I'm stopped by some guy of more than average height dressed entirely in steam punk clothing with hair parted to one side. Without knowing a given name I had no idea what to call Mr. Grumpy.

I gave him that informal title because of the permanent frown that made it challenging for me to see him in a different light.

His scowl deepened once he viewed my complete outfit.

His surprised reaction didn't bother me. For whatever belief they harbored about the proper way to dress while going out, many groups of diverse people I ran in to on the way took offense with my favored pick in outdoor apparel. Honestly I didn't understand what the big deal was: I mean, so what if I wore a hoodie, my favorite oil stained sweats, and a pair of old chucks.

I grimace silently. There was no need to go and laugh about it.

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to make it." was his pipeline of a greeting.

I shuffle my feet and formally introduced myself. "Hi. Um, I'm new here." I get embarrassed when I hear it come out like a question instead of a confidant young woman's public announcement.
Face beet red I look down in shame. I was self-reliant for peete sake's.

Why did I let him get to me so?

Uninterested in hearing what I had to say the guy waves me off and checks something on his clipboard. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever." he mumbles ignoring me.

Resolute, I stand in from of him with good posture until his only option was to deal with me. "I'm supposed to register myself in." I tell him asserting personal strength to get my point across. Satisfied that I projected the demeanor of a self-assured young lady I smirk.

"Naturally." Hesitantly Mr. Grumpy sighs. "Let me tell you what I say to all the people who are late around here." With the clipboard down he points to a collection of top dollar suitcases that I was pretty sure were to be filled with treasured possessions; though, by the looks of it I could tell no one cared to straighten them up since a few were standing upside down, practically spilling against the sidewalk. "Put your stuff over there. The professor will be here for Orientation soon enough." he says dismissively.

I watch him go back to work.

Mr. Grumpy narrows his grey murky eyes at me.

"Are you deaf? What are you waiting for?!" he barks.

Looking down I apologize for conducting myself poorly. I was new and so I didn't know if while behaving slightly reckless in turn I managed to ruin my chances by unintentionally insulting someone who could be important enough to recommend expulsion before I walked into the main course of study.

"Okay. Thanks for all your help." Quickly I walk away from him not glancing back.

I leave the suitcase behind and decided not to have my folder out in the open where anyone who passed by could find it.

Stepping forward I hug the folder close to me in case some insensitive tool made it his or her business to go snooping around privileged information that was only meant for the dean of students to be in possession of. Thinking it would have been foolish on my part to let it sit their cast aside on the pavement, not to mention one heck of a concurrence that someone would just happen upon it, I was sure in my decision to bring it with me as being a valid one.

I go up the four step lineup of stairs and did my best not to chicken out in front of my already not so pleased audience. It was now or never and without a car of my own to speed off in I couldn't very well just back-pedal on foot. Mom would never suspect if I chose to high tale my way out but leaving without reason didn't seem right. Besides, if I didn't like it I could always go for the alternative choice.