Potentially You and Me (Two Truths and a Lie)

CHAPTER THREE: INTRO TO PHILOSOPHY

CHAPTER THREE: INTRO TO PHILOSOPY

My alarm went off at six. It's only the second week of classes, but I'm proud because I haven't caved and hit the snooze button yet. Instead, I'm sitting on the floor in between Stephanie's and I's bed stretching my legs.

Stephanie didn't end up making her bed until the first day of classes last week. Even though we tend to have opposite sleep schedules, her hot pink comforter matches mine because there's a big light blue pinwheel of flowers decorating the center. The rest of her stuff also happens to carry a pink and blue theme like her hair. From the corkboards she hung over her bed, and the makeup she currently has strewn over her desk.

Stephanie's curly hair is the only thing I can identify about the lump she's currently making in her bed. I'm glad my early alarm hasn't bothered her yet. My first class doesn't start until nine-thirty, but my nerves and fear woke me up the first day. My nerves and fear of the communal bathroom at the end of the hall.

The toilets aren't bad. I appreciate the fact that the stalls were made properly. There is no big underwear exposing crack on the right side of the door when it closes, and I have yet to see any pads and tampons stuck to the walls. The sinks are all linked together by a single counter and one large mirror.

My fears stem from the showers I have yet to feel comfortable in. I don't care that the water pressure isn't the best, or that the tile grout is uneven. What I do care about is the fact that the white curtains resemble the translucent toilet paper hanging in the stalls at the opposite end of the room.

An early morning run helps to get rid of my early morning nerves while an early morning alarm helps me avoid feeling naked and afraid in front of all the girls on the third floor, their bathrobes, and their beauty products.

I shove my earbuds in my ears as I close the door behind me. The summer humidity is still coating the air when I step outside, but the wisps of sunrise poking out of the tops of the dorm buildings make the sky dim and the air cool enough for me to wear leggings, sneakers, and the blue university of PennBrook t-shirt I got at orientation a few weeks ago.

My music blasts in my ears as I walk to the other end of campus. I go out of my way to avoid the geese poop on the cement pathways but can't avoid the wet morning dew on the grass. The tops of my grey sneakers have a halo of darker material as the water sinks into my cotton socks and chills the tips of my toes.

Once I deem myself far away enough from my dorm building, I turn around and begin jogging back. Sometimes I like hearing each pound of my footsteps. Other times, like today, my music pounds in my ears. Either way, I relish in the way my heart pounds inside my chest. It cheers me on, and it's that cheer that propels me through the rest of the day.

I keep my phone in my hand, but discreetly pull my student ID out of my bra. Although it's slicked with some sweat, I didn't trust my hands to keep it from being slicked with morning dew somewhere on the grass. I creep into the room the same way the hallway lights do, but luckily, I'm able to close the door and shut them out. Unlucky for a still sleeping Stephanie, me and my rustling can't be shut out.

I gather all my toiletries. Towel, shower shoes, extra towel, shower gel, hair towel, shampoo. The list goes on, but it's all stuffed inside my tote bag. I stuff my underwear down in the bag, but the rest of my change of clothes is haphazardly thrown on top. The precarious pile teeters on my bed while I send a text message to my little sister.

Have a good day! <3

****

I cringe when the chalk squeaks against the chalk board. Some guys sitting all the way in the back verbally emit their groans, hisses, and winces. Professor Collins doesn't even flinch. Instead, he throws us a grin over his shoulder before he finishes writing the word P L A T O in all caps in the top right corner of the board. It's only been a few classes, but with each class his handwriting gets even more precarious. He's the kind who talks and talks but will stop for questions. He writes down the key words but doesn't erase the large green chalkboard board until he's filled every nook and cranny with his writing. He'll write diagonal, sideways, and overlap. And when he finally erases, he only erases one half of the board at a time. One side of the green board is coated in white powder, while the other half is still coated in words, and he only continues to add more precisely where he sees fit.