Julianna
I wanted to live in a student apartment and be independent like my friends from high school.
Most of my high school friends wanted to leave Rhode Island, but I preferred to stay. Why move 100 miles when I got into a great school nearby?
I felt sad and alone because it seemed like a bad decision. I was in my room while my friends were at a party. I saved money, but I couldn't afford to live alone, and none of my friends were looking for places. Everyone I knew at school was closer to others, leaving me by myself.
When the bus called my stop, I felt better. I got up and waited at the door. I looked around campus. Still calm. Only summer researchers and students were there.
Today, I just had a tote bag because I didn't have school or work. I met an old friend for coffee. I wore a tank top and shorts. I didn't look extraordinary, but I took more time to get ready than usual for campus.
I walked to "The Grind," the campus coffee shop near the arts center, in a cute building. I checked the blackboard for specials inside.
I wasn't very social. I was shy with strangers and too excited with friends. I often had to change my demeanor depending on the situation.
"Hey, what can I get for you?" The woman behind the counter asked, and her lip piercing caught my eye, briefly distracting me.
"Um, could I have an iced latte, medium size?" I asked quietly while searching for my wallet in my bag.
"How about regular milk?"
"Please!" I shrugged and kept it light.
"That'll be $6.20; do you have cash or a card?" She asked, and suddenly my heart raced. Almost $7 for an iced latte?
"Please use my card." I sighed and took out my debit card. When I tapped it, it felt like it was crying. She gave me a receipt, and I waited for Carlo at a table.
I hung my bag on the back of my chair and looked around for my phone. When it buzzed to let me know I had a text, I unlocked it to read it.
CARLO [11:01 AM]
"Running late, see you in five"
It's 1:06 PM now, so he should be here soon.
"Julianna-banana!" I heard Carlo's large frame approaching, and I saw him too. I got up and gave him a quick hug because I was happy to see him again. He was the only one who ever called me that.
"Hi Carlo." I smiled at him, and he smiled back. He had changed his hairstyle and ditched his mustache, which was a good move. He used to say it attracted the ladies, and he wasn't wrong. Girls did seem to follow him around.
"You look good, what's new?" He asked, and I just shrugged.
"Not much, grab some coffee, and we'll catch up." I gestured, and he smiled, heading to the counter.
After a few minutes, he returned to the table with a large coffee mug. He sat down and took off his old flannel. "What did you order?" I asked.
"Where's your usual black drip coffee?"
"They're still serving it." I shrugged and looked up to see the barista struggling with the espresso machine. "No big deal, I just didn't want something hot."
"It's definitely warm." He nodded and took a sip of his black coffee. "So, how have you been, and how was your co-op?"
"It was pretty good, I learned a lot and all that." I shrugged.
Carlo and I had both been busy, so I hadn't been keeping up with him as well as I should have. We weren't really close friends to begin with, and now we were barely in each other's lives at all.
"They said I could start working in two weeks."
"What?" I smile and ask, and he nods. "Wow, that's great! Congrats!"
"It's cool that if you get this degree, you can find a job right away." He chuckles, and I chuckle too and roll my eyes. "I can't believe I finished high school, though."
"I always forget we're not in the same year," I say with a shrug. "So, what's your plan?"
"In a few days, I'm heading back to New York," he says, and my eyebrows shoot up. "Your timing was good when you tried to set up a hangout."
"You're leaving!" I repeat, and he nods. "Wow, that's a big move!"
"I know," he shrugs. "But I think I'm ready to go."
"That's not your fault," I reassure him. The woman at the counter brings me my drink. I insert the straw and mix it with the ice. I'm not sad about it because it's true; Carlo and I were never really close, especially after our philosophy class ended.
"What's up with you?" He changes the topic and asks, so I clear my throat.
"Not much, you know me, pretty dull," I mutter. "I'm working on an honors thesis."
"Wow, impressive," he nods as I mumble. "What's your thesis about?"
"History, with a focus on the early modern period," I tell him, and he nods.
I tried hard not to fit the stereotype of the typical Brown University student with random piercings, a rainbow wardrobe, and a hand constantly in the air. I was genuinely interested in my studies, and I kept a low profile.
"What's your main point?" He asks, and I shrug.
"My professor and I are still working on it, but it's about how sexism evolved over time in early civilizations."
"That sounds like a lot," he shakes his head, leans back, and runs a hand through his sandy hair. "Do you still work at the Coleman pool?"
I got a job as a lifeguard at the school's fitness center pool during my first year. I had my certification, so I decided to use it to get an on-campus job. I usually did it between classes, and most of the time, I just watched over the swimmers and took a few laps myself for fun.
"Yeah, I got a raise last month," I say with a hint of pride, and he laughs.
"Cool," he shrugs. "You look different."
I try not to get too excited when he says that. I had shed some extra weight and felt better about my appearance. Also, my hair had grown since he last saw me, and I had a tan from the summer. Today, I had put in a bit more effort than my usual "homeless chic" style, which consisted of old jeans, warm sweaters, and worn-out sneakers. I had gotten a good night's sleep, applied simple makeup, and styled my hair.
"I think my depression is finally fading, maybe because it's summer," I tease him, and he laughs. "You look different too, but every time I see you, you look different."
"I know, my girlfriend didn't like the mustache, so I got rid of it," he says with a shrug.
"Are you back with Kayla?" I ask, trying to remember the name of his previous girlfriend.
"No, I've met someone new in Jersey," he confirms. Carlo was always a ladies' man at heart, with unconventional views on dating and relationships and a long list of phone numbers. He was the kind of guy I'd never consider dating, a bit of a red flag.
"Her name's Emma, and I told her I had to come home first to take care of some things here."
"What's she like?"
"She's fun, nice, and tall," he says, and I roll my eyes at the last part. "How about you? Anyone special in your life?"
I tell him, "Absolutely no one. I'm living with my parents, and their room is right next to mine. Plus, I don't have a car. Not ideal for dating."
Honestly, I don't really mind whether I'm dating someone or not. It doesn't change much in my life because I'm too busy to date.
"When was the last time you went out with someone?" He asks, and I raise my eyebrows.
"I'm not sure."
"You're still at your parents' place? Can't believe you haven't moved out, Julianna. It's been two years," he remarks.
I reply, "I can't, really. Renting a place here on my own is too expensive, and I actually like being at home." I defend my choice by crossing my legs and leaning back in my chair.
In truth, I enjoyed being at home. I loved my mom and dad, even my annoying little brother Jesse. I liked having home-cooked meals that I didn't have to prepare, playing Scrabble with my family, and watching The Great British Bake-Off with my mom. The only thing I didn't enjoy was going to work.
"You've got to move out," he insists.
Rolling my eyes, I respond, "No kidding, Carlo."
I sigh and admit, "I know."
But it's not that simple; it's just the bus.
"The bus that takes you an hour to get to campus?" he challenges. "Look, Julianna, your backpack always looks like it weighs a ton, which means you're not getting enough sleep. I haven't seen you in months, but it's obvious that the end of the semester has done wonders for your mental health."
"So, what should I do about it?" I ask. "All of that is true, but this is my reality. Nobody's looking for a roommate. I huff, lean back in my chair, grab my glass, and take a bitter sip of my drink.
I'm not sure if I'm even adult enough for it. I never seem to have my life together, and I don't know if I could handle paying my bills.
"Wait," he says with a peculiar look, pulling out his phone. "I've got an idea that could solve both our problems."
