Her Side of the World

Chapter 2

I feel the heaviness in my eyelids as I open my eyes. What time is? What day is it?

I put my hands on my face to shut off the light and help my eyes finally open. I groan.

After a few seconds, I remove my hands and notice that the light is coming from the lightbulb in the room. I look at the balcony door to my left and notice, from the bit of the door that is showing under the curtain, that it is night. I start gathering my thoughts. I have a terrible headache.

I reach for my phone when I remember where I am. I look at the time. 9:22pm. Did I just sleep for four hours?!

I throw my head back again. I cannot believe I did that to myself.

I turn to my right and am finally truly awakened. There are three boxes lying around. The bed is messed up. There are clothes and socks on it. There is a pair of shoes next to the door.

I straighten up and go to the bathroom to take a hot shower. Hot showers always help with my headache.

I take my time and keep my ears open for any noise in the room. Excited and anxious about meeting my roommate.

When I turn off the water, I notice the subtle noise in the room. No loud steps or movements. I dry my hair with my towel and get in my shorts. I take a breath, put on a smile and finally open the door.

The man is standing behind his bed, there are folded clothes near him on one side and messed up clothes on the other. He has a sweater in his hands. He looks up and his eyes meet mine. He smiles warmly.

And then he says something.

I keep on my smile, cross my eyebrows a little. He raises his and moves his face a little. We look at each other for a few awkward seconds.

"Wh-What was that? Sorry?" I finally ask.

His facial expression changes when I speak to him, I think having told by my accent that I did not understand what he said. He lets out a small laugh.

"Oh. Sorry. You're not from here. Right?"

"I'm not."

"From the US?" he asks. Everyone I have heard speaking in English so far has a pretty good accent, totally comprehensible.

"Yes."

"Welcome, I guess?"

"Thank you." I nod.

"If it makes it any better, I am not from here either."

"Really?"

"I mean, I am Lebanese. But I never lived in Beirut."

"Oh." I nod, not completely getting the idea. Not all Americans live in Washington afterall. This is how it is supposed to be.

"So where did you live then?" I ask, interested.

"North Lebanon. A village called Trablos. Also known as Tripoli in English."

I shake my head. "Don't think I've heard of it."

"I am surprised you've even heard of Lebanon. No wonder you haven't heard of it." he jokes.

"So why are you here?" he asks.

"I'm here on an exchange program for a semester." I repeat the sentence that now comes right after my name. The two becoming one.

"Yeah. I figured. But like, why?" he laughs a little while asking. I am not sure what the right answer is, so I decide to be honest.

"I figured it would be nice to be in a place that is... you know... different."