I wondered idly about what New York City would be like. I’ve seen it in movies and TV shows, but never actually visited. I hope it’s as wonderful as most people claim it to be. I’m not much of a social person. I won’t go somewhere unless I’m forced or absolutely sure that I’ll be comfortable with the people around me. I prefer books and movies over partying and drinking. Have I partied and drunk before? Of course, I was always liked in high school. I was part of the cheerleading squad, helped out in ASB, and was a part of drama. I have people whom I’m acquainted with, but I don’t really have a real true friend who I can count on. Someone who will be there for me. I’ve been single for my whole life. I never wanted anything serious with anybody. The least I needed was someone to mislead me from reaching my goals. I don’t want that distraction in my life. Maybe someday when I’m content with where I’m at in life, and I have a steady career, hopefully that career will be acting or publishing, but until then I need to steer clear of distraction. My fantasies and books will have to do for now. Creative Writing should be a good major for me. If it’s not, then I guess I can always change it. For now, Mother is paying for my dorms I’ll stay in. I’ve thanked her numerous of times for all she’s doing for me. She wants to see me strive just as much as I do. I drift off to sleep while reading and I dream of tall buildings and taxi cabs littering the crowded streets of Broadway.
When I awake the sun has set and the moon shines bright. I nervously ask the flight attendant when we’ll be arriving and she tells me in about an hour. I sigh and lean my head on the head rest. I wonder if she likes her job. She has curly blonde hair and a curvy figure. I wish I looked like her. I’m not saying I’m unhappy with my looks; it’d just be nice to try something different. Something other than my ordinary brown hair and my overly puffy cheeks. I bring my hand to my cheek and pinch at it; I guess I have to accept it. That is what life is about right? Accepting things even though you don’t agree or think it’s morally right.
An hour seemed like an eternity but when I finally exited the plane the pace of everything sped up 10 times faster than what it already was. My brain fuzzed as I looked among all of the families reuniting and couples embracing. There I was standing like a complete fool, not knowing what to do with myself. I think I’m supposed to call a cab. I don’t even know how to whistle. The weight of my bags seemed to grow heavier. I didn’t want to leave this airport. This may be the only time I feel secure in this big of a city. I took a deep breath, clearing my mind of all the bad possibilities that could happen. I walked towards the exit doors, thanking the person who held them open for me. He must’ve noticed my hands full. A rush of air whipped at my face, blowing my hair back. I squinted my eyes as they adjusted to the city lights. There was a Verizon building just west of me and clouds hovered around the top of it. How tall can a building be to reach the clouds? I asked myself in awe. My main priority was to get to my school. I took my bags both in one hand, freeing my right one. I stepped onto the pavement waving for a cab. They all seemed to zoom by me without any notice. I groaned at my lack of city skills. I scuttled closer to the street waving and yelling at an upcoming taxi. It stopped abruptly and I thanked God for it. A man emerged from the driver’s side and offered to take my bags. I thanked him and made sure he wasn’t suspicious of anything. I entered the cab, taking a seat in the back.
“Where to, lady?” He asked rather insensitively
“Uh, New York University?” I said more as a question than a commandment. Does he know where it is? I don’t even know where it is. The car pulled into another lane and I took his no response and driving as a yes. I took my phone from my purse and quickly texted Mother. I don’t know what time it is over there, she may already be asleep for all I know. I watched as the message sent. It didn’t occur to me that I needed to pay the taxi driver. I dug for my wallet. How much am I supposed to pay him, oh my god. I should’ve read up on these things. How far is he even driving me? I didn’t want to ask him how much I should pay him, because he would probably suggest 60 dollars, and me being the idiotic person I am would think it normal and pay him 70 just to be nice. I bit my lip in frustration. I guess I’ll have to ask him but be wise.
After about 20 minutes of driving we arrive to my school. He opens the trunk for me and I grab my purse and step out, leaning against the door I ask him “Thanks, and how much?” He responds with $39.40, tip included. I almost choke on my own spit. I never expected that much but I guess that’s normal around here. I remember Mother warning me of the expenses. I’m not used to the amounts of money they charge. I take out two twenties from my wallet and tell him to keep the change. I laugh to myself for saying that. I never expected I would say that to someone. I grab my bags from the trunk and close it shut. The taxi drives off leaving me by myself. Everything seems so much scarier at night. The school looks beautiful. All I know is that NYU is close to Washington Square Park. I take out the piece of paper that had my dorm room on it and wander around. I don’t know where I’m going and I keep passing by numerous amounts of cafés and mini grocery stores. Are all colleges like this? I desperately wish Mother was with me now. She would know where to go and what to do. My arms are growing tired and my feet are aching. My residence hall is FYRE, referring to first-year students. I’m looking for Othmer Hall. I nearly scream when I find it. It was about time. I’m thankful I’m wearing my sweatshirt, because it’s beginning to get chilly. I open the door to the hall and am amazed by the size of everything. There aren’t many people out in the front lobby, surprisingly. I locate the elevator and make my way towards it. As I step in I am surprised to find a very intimate couple touching each other. I try my hardest to suppress my gasp as I stare at them. Pretending I don’t notice, I step inside anyways and back into the corner. The girl puts her hands on the guys chest, creating a barrier for him to stop. She glares at me and I try my hardest to look confused. The guy groans at her reluctance and stops finally. He has curly hair and I see traces of tattoos marking his arms and chest. He’s wearing a white shirt and tight pants. I stare intently at his large hands, as they run through his hair. He notices me and also glares. Geez, what is with people here? The girl looks…different. Her hair is somewhat tangled and her clothes are skimpy. I’m not one to judge by their looks, but boy if I had to describe her with one word it would be trashy. The guy scoffs at me, his arm around the girl, “Did you forget how to use an elevator sweetheart?” He looks at me, referring to the buttons on the left side I had yet to push. I was too busy with my thoughts to press a floor. I clear my throat and fidget with the button that had a number 7 on it. I saw that the number 9 was lit and I hoped that they lived on that floor instead of mine.
The elevator pulled up and I put my hand on the rails. The guy whispered something in the girl’s ear and she giggled louder than needed. He smiled at her and I took notice of his dimples that creased in his cheeks. I tried my hardest to maintain my attention elsewhere, but it’s hard when you’re constantly hearing ‘dirty talk’ being spoken at not much of a hush tone. I looked down at my hands as the elevator rose then stopped abruptly. The doors opened and a bell pinged. I sighed a sigh of relief as I made my way towards dorm number #1857.