Mia Hill. College bound with an athletic scholarship. A go-getter with big dreams and a fully thought out plan to make sure they come true.
But with her father's release from prison looming and the inevitable stresses of adulting, everything she wa...
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It's warm today. Typical weather for California this time of year, I suppose, and normally I wouldn't mind it. The climate here is growing on me. It's nice not having to bundle up for a change as the seasons shift. But at the moment, it's got me feeling all funky. Wishing I was home.
What I wouldn't give for one of upstate New York's gloriously brisk fall days, to see the trees doing their thing. Autumn in Los Angeles just doesn't have the same appeal. Or nearly as many trees.
I miss the trees back home, the view of the woods from my bedroom window. I miss my little sister's twinkling presence, my dad's annoying jokes, and my mother's food.
Oh fuck. The unthinkable has happened, and I suspect I may be a bit homesick. I thought that wouldn't happen for a couple more months, if it ever even happened.
It probably doesn't help that my family was just here for the game last Saturday, and the fresh memory of their visit is looming heavily now that it's back to classes and reality. The weekend went by too quickly, especially with the game taking up the better part of the day on Saturday.
The Bruins won, which is cool, and I got a teensy bit of field time when Mitchell rolled his ankle in the third quarter. But Sunday had room for little else besides a family dinner and Mom giving me a haircut before they had to hop a plane back home.
It's been hard finding the motivation to jump into this week, but it's time to pull it together. And since my first class today happens to be Psychology, I can already feel the pep returning to my step as I walk into the lecture hall and immediately spot Mia sitting in her usual chair.
Her face is in her phone, which is sort of odd but not really. I've seen her on it more often lately than usual, but never in class. If she's using it to deter me from sitting next to her and striking up a conversation this morning, it won't work. Because as usual, the seat beside her is gloriously empty and fantastically mine.
I've been making sure of that by showing up early for this class. I might be late for all my other classes, but this one? I am never late. It's the only time I get to see Mia Hill.
Ever since the luau a couple weeks ago, I haven't seen much of her around campus. I suspect she's been avoiding me, which is fine. That's her right as a human. But Psych class is the one place she can't escape me.
As I slide into the spot beside her, she jumps and flips her phone face down on her desk. All without sparing a single glance in my direction.
Getting settled into my seat, I make a ruckus with my bag and clear my throat for good measure. Only because she still won't look at me, and I want to make sure she knows I'm here. Even if she definitely knows I'm here, and I definitely know that she already knows.
I glance over at her, noticing a few strands of champagne hair that have fallen out of her ponytail. Today's little burst of humidity has made them coil up like tiny springs along her face. They look cute.
