Page 11 of Inked in Bloom
AUGUST
5
MONROE
This isn’t real. It’s a dream. A crazy and beautiful conjuring of my mind tricking me. Maybe I’m still alive somewhere, stuck in a comatose space. Maybe this is all some imagined scenario. A way to cope with whatever happened after that bus flew at me.
I’ve hidden away in my room, praying to wake up. For this hallucination to disappear. I haven’t eaten, only drinking water when my roommates refused to leave the room without seeing me do it. Not sure why. If I’m truly dead, I don’t need any of it. I miss my own bed, my old beat-up couch, the rustling of bunnies padding across the floor. What I wouldn’t give to see Jessica Rabbit’s twitchy nose as she nibbles bok choy or Sir Thumps-A-Lot lounging on the couch, paw thudding contentedly against the cushion.
“Knock, knock,” Cherri calls through the slip of the door she’s already opened. She peeks her head into the room.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Well, that’s good, because I don’t have any food.” She may not, but that doesn’t stop her from picking up the nearly full glass of water on my nightstand and holding it in front of my face. “I wanted to say bye before I head out.”
Begrudgingly, I sit up. “Whereare you going?”
She props the pillow behind my back and hands me the water.
“It’s orientation at the Conservatory.” Cherri smiles as I take a few measly sips.
“Already?”
That means I’ve been here two weeks. So much back home that I’ve already missed. Was Richard out of the hospital and home with Beth? Had they attended my funeral? Was there even a funeral? If so, who’d come?
Tink, tink, tink.
My attention snaps from my imaginary casket to where Cherri taps the nearly full water glass, noting her picked-over cuticles.
“Feeling excited or nervous?” I ask, nodding to where she’s pulled off tiny strips of skin.
“Both.” Her voice squeaks, and she laces her fingers together. “I didn’t go to college and I wasn’t exactly what you’d call a star student. But today should be easy enough. Just going to see the building, meet the professors, and get the syllabus—stuff like that.”
I down a big gulp of water this time, wincing as it scrapes my raw throat. “Well, this isn’t a regular school. It’s learning how to bring spring. I’m sure you’re not the only nervous one. Do you have any friends joining you?”
“Not really.” She tucks a piece of dark-rose hair into her bob. “Everyone I know already earned their marks.”
“I see.”
She flashes me a tilted grin. “Any chance I could convince you to sit in today and see what you think?”
“I don’t know…” Setting the water on the table, I glance at the assorted snacks piled there, accumulated since my arrival. Is this it for me? Hiding away in my room? I’ve done that for two weeks and it hasn’t gotten me anywhere. “Is that even allowed?”
“For what it’s worth, I asked the dean and she said it would be fine… and we were thinking we could give you a mini tour of Florezca on the way.” Cherri’s rich-purple eyes glitter with her silent plea. She doesn’t want to be alone. “There’s no pressure to actually attend. But if you wanted to, you’d just have to decide about enrolling before Monday’s classes start.”
I bite my lip. Clearly, she’s thought about this for a few days at least. And it’s not as though I have anything better to do tucked under the covers. Stagnant.
The last time I’d been this way was when Charlotte died. Everything took Herculean effort—even brushing my teeth or taking a bath. But one action at a time, one choice and then another, and somehow, I found my footing again. The grief never went away, I lugged it with me everywhere, but moving with its weight eventually became easier. Moving at all had helped me feel better. Less powerless.
Perhaps this is exactly what I need. It wouldn’t hurt to get a better sense of my surroundings.
“I’ll take you all up on that tour… and maybe on keeping you company for orientation,” I say, not ready to agree to anything more yet.
Cherri’s eyes go wide and a crooked smile pulls across her cheeks. She cheers and bounces a few times, shaking the bed. My stomach growls as she takes my hand and helps me stand.
“We’ll grab something to eat on the way,” Cherri says feverishly, her eyes darting around the room. “Now where to start...”
Guiding me by the shoulders, she swerves me into thebathroom, giddily listing off what I need to do before I escort her toherorientation.
