7. Isla

7

ISLA

T he early morning sun leaves a warm, golden glow across the campus as I adjust the settings on my camera. I frame the shot with a few quick tweaks and capture a piece of Crestwood University’s beauty. I pull the camera away from my face when I’m done, and I can’t help but smile as I review the image on the display.

There is something magical about this time of day. The light makes even the most mundane objects look extraordinary. I snap a few more shots when I spot someone walking toward me. I lower my camera and grin, although I’m surprised to see Selene on campus so early.

“Well, well. I didn’t know when I’d officially run into you on campus, but it’s about time it happened,” Selene says with a smirk. “Of course, I should have known it would be at the crack of dawn.”

I chuckle. “It’s not that early. Speaking of, what are you doing here?”

Selene rolls her eyes. “Early class. I swear, the person who came up with the idea of 8 a.m. lectures must be in cahoots with the devil, because what the fuck?”

“Hey, at least you’re getting it over with early, right? Plus, you’ll have the rest of the day to do whatever you want…that is, if you don’t have more classes or homework.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Selene groans. “I’ve got a lab this afternoon and a group project meeting later. How have you been adjusting?”

That’s a loaded question. I shrug to not appear stressed, but I’m sure I fail. Selene will call me out on my bullshit, anyway. “It’s been a change, for sure. But I’m managing. The photography helps.” I gesture to my camera.

Selene raises an eyebrow as a more serious expression settles on her face. “Yeah, I can see that. But tell the truth. How are you holding up?”

I take a deep breath, letting my eyes wander over the campus bathed in the soft morning light. “It’s... different. There’s just been so much going on with me changing schools and dealing with my PCOS on top of it.”

That’s an understatement. Crestwood’s campus is nothing like NYU’s and not like what I was experiencing in Italy before my life blew up. Although I know where certain things are due to living nearby all my life, it’s still different because I’m attending the school now. It’s also been quite the shift with me starting here after the semester has begun, but I’ve quickly caught up, so at least there’s that.

And I’ve been lucky. I haven’t run into “he who shall not be named,” and I’m not prepared for when that eventually happens.

“I can imagine,” Selene says, breaking me from the spell my thoughts had taken me under. “Speaking of, how’s the new treatment going? Are you feeling any better?”

I debate with myself how much I should share. “It’s helping. The meds seem to work, and my symptoms aren’t as bad. But I have my ups and downs like we all do.”

“I’m glad. You look so much better than the last time I saw you.”

I cut my eyes over at her. “Thanks?”

“It’s the truth.”

She’s right. The last time I saw her in person was a few days after I got back from Italy, and I’d just gotten my official diagnosis. I’m willing to admit that I looked rough, but she was still there by my side.

“I know, but I do feel better.”

“And it’s showing. That makes me so happy.” Selene clears her throat before she speaks again. “Have you seen anyone else from high school around? Or anyone else you might know…”

As her voice trails off, I debate how I should answer this. Of course she went there. I know exactly who she’s talking about, but I decide to play dumb. “Anyone else?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about,” Selene says, narrowing her eyes at me. “Have you seen him?”

I try to keep my face neutral, but I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. “No, I haven’t seen Asher. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Understandable, and I’m glad you haven’t. You don’t know how hard it’s been not to kick his face in every time I see him around.”

That statement forces a laugh from me. I appreciate Selene’s friendship, but there is no reason to get violent toward anyone about this. What happened occurred three years ago, and harming him won’t do any good.

Even if he left me with a broken heart.

“I would have loved to have seen that a few years ago, but that’s all in the past. After all, I have more important things to worry about now.”

“I know, I know. You’re right. Nevertheless, the offer stands if you ever change your mind.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. But seriously, I’m good. I’ve got too much going on to worry about anything related to Asher Bennett.”

“I hear you,” Selene says, her expression softening. “Just know I’m here for you, always. If you need to vent or just want someone to hang out with and forget about all the bullshit, I’m your girl.”

I smile as she opens her arms to hug me. “I know, thanks. It means a lot.”

“Anytime, girly. I hate to cut this short, but I’ve got to run, or I’ll be late for class. Catch you later?” She gives me a quick hug.

“Definitely. Text me when you’re done with everything. Maybe we can grab dinner or something.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Selene waves as she speed-walks away.

I’m left staring in her wake for a moment before I turn to start packing my equipment. I grab my camera bag and sling it over my shoulder before walking back toward my dorm.

As I approach the building, I can’t help but feel a distinct pain forming in the center of my forehead. My roommate situation has been... tense, to say the least. I take a deep breath before pushing, using my key card to enter the building, and walking up to our door.

The last thing I wanted to do was live at home, so when I heard a bed was available in one of the upperclassmen dorms on campus because someone transferred out at the beginning of the year, I told Dad that’s where I wanted to be. With that, I didn’t know who my roommate was going to be or if our personalities would mesh well together. Turns out we don’t vibe with one another, and I say a small prayer as I stick my key into the lock, hoping she’s not there.

“Oh, you’re back,” my roommate, Tessa, says with little emotion, barely glancing up from her laptop. “I hoped to have the room to myself for longer.”

I bite my tongue, resisting the urge to snap back. “Sorry, I just needed to drop off my camera gear before my first class.”

I don’t have to explain myself, but I’m doing my best to keep the peace. I set my camera bag down on my side of the room. Her side of the room is immaculate. Everything is organized, and there is not a single item out of place. In contrast, my side is a bit more messy, with a few clothes draped over my desk chair and my photography equipment occupying a significant portion of my limited space.

“You know, maybe if you didn’t have so much stuff, there would be more room in here for both of us,” she remarks, her eyes still glued to her laptop screen.

Annoyance continues to grow inside of me, but I take a deep breath and try to let it go. It’s not as if my stuff is encroaching on her space, but I’m trying to keep the peace. “I’ll try to keep my things more contained.”

Tessa just hums in response, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation. That is fine by me. The less I have to talk to or engage with her, the better. From the moment we met, it was clear that she wished she could have kept the room to herself, and I don’t blame her. Sharing a room with someone isn’t high on my list of wants either, but I’m willing to put in the work so that we can coexist. Her actions tell me she doesn’t care about that, so I like to be here only when she isn’t or when we’re both asleep.

“Can you be a little quieter? I’m trying to concentrate…. Some of us actually have work to do instead of just taking photos of random shit.”

I’ve had enough. “What’s your deal?”

My roommate turns slowly. “What. Is. My. Deal?” she says slowly, as if she doesn’t understand what I’m asking her.

“Why do you hate me? I haven’t done a thing to you.” I hate that I'm starting to sound desperate.

Tessa raises an eyebrow, her gaze cold. "Hate you? Don't flatter yourself. I just don't get why I have to pretend we're friends when we're not. You're just... here. Taking up space."

Her words sting more than I'd like to admit, but I refuse to back down. "I'm just trying to coexist. We don't have to be friends, but we don't have to make each other miserable either."

"Coexist? Sure. Just keep your stuff out of my way, and we'll be fine." She turns back to her laptop, dismissing me as if the conversation never happened.

I snatch my laptop off my desk and grab my backpack because I can’t stay here a second longer than I have to. “Bye.” Even though she was a prick to me, I can be nice.

Tessa barely acknowledges my presence, her eyes still glued to her screen. “Yeah, whatever.”

Rolling my eyes, I slip out the door, letting out a sigh of relief as it clicks shut behind me. I dash out of the building, happy to put my roommate and her bitchiness behind me.

Since my class isn’t for another hour, I decide to go to the library to kill time. Unsurprisingly, it is quiet when I arrive, but there are only a handful of students around. It doesn’t take long for me to find a secluded spot near the back on the main floor. Before I know it, I’ve plopped down and am ready to do some homework that isn’t due for another week.

I pull out my laptop, turn it on, and open my school email. I scan the new messages that have accumulated in my inbox since I last checked. One catches my eye because it’s from Dad, with the subject line, “Potential Opportunity For You.”

I click on the message and read:

Hey,

I hope everything is going well.

I wanted to let you know about an opportunity that’s come up. The hockey team needs a new photographer, and I thought of you. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, but I think this could be a wonderful chance for you to showcase your talent and get more involved on campus if you’re selected. Plus, it’s a work-study opportunity. I’ve attached the announcement to this email for you to check out.

Let me know if you’re interested, and we can discuss the details.

Love,

Dad

I stare at the screen, my heart racing as I reread the email. Working with the hockey team would mean being around Asher regularly, something I’ve been avoiding. And yet, the idea of being able to do something I love is so tempting.

If I get the job.

I click on the attachment and read through the job description. The position involves attending all home and select away games, capturing action shots of the players on the ice, and some behind-the-scenes moments in the locker room and during practices. It’s a significant time commitment, but the pay is decent for a work-study gig.

And it’s not like I don’t have the experience.

I lean back in my chair, staring at the library ceiling as if it holds the answers I seek. Do I take a chance and apply for the position, knowing it means that I will come face-to-face with Asher at some point? Or do I look for another opportunity?

I stare at the screen before me, wondering what I should say. Before I can stop myself, my fingers begin moving across my keyboard.

Hey Dad,

Thanks for thinking of me for this opportunity. I’m definitely interested in applying. Can you send me more details on how to submit my application and portfolio?

Love,

Isla

I hit send before I can second-guess what the hell I’m doing.