think so,” I sputtered, my head floating.
“Then sweet dreams, my dear. It’s a pleasure to have you at Brightman,” he said with a slight bow.
“And thank you—” I quickly looked behind me to see if my dream room was, in fact, still there. “—for everything.”
“Anything for Evyatar’s daughter. Good night.”
I closed the door and backed up to it, taking in the living room and kitchen. This was all really and truly mine? It hadn’t quite sunk in yet, and I couldn’t shake the suspicion that it was part of some unusually cruel joke and would all be taken away in the morning as a newbie hazing ritual.
I ran into my bedroom and leapt onto the bed, sinking into the plush pillows. My eyes ached for sleep. After locating my face wash and toothbrush in a bathroom cupboard, I was soon ready for bed. Slipping between silky sheets, I breathed in their lilac scent, shivering from the cold glossiness against my legs. Turning off the lights, I lay in the dark, thinking over my day and the days to come.
If Dad were with me, per our tradition, we’d explore together, discovering hidden bookstores, local parks, the perfect coffee shop, the nearest Chinese joint, and the like. My heart sunk. It had always been my favorite part of moving.
Memories ambushed me now, as if they’d been lying in wait all day for this very moment. Taking off the brave face, I let go, allowing myself to feel and fall apart. A pang dully ached through my chest as I thought of home and remembered Dad. The look of his sad eyes again flashed across my mind’s eye. I hated saying goodbye to him earlier in the day. The day had been so long that it seemed like ages since I’d seen him last.
I wondered where he was at that very moment. In Alaska already planning for a day of unpacking? I shook my head, knowing he’d live out of his suitcase for a good month before finally deciding to unpack boxes and move in. But I had to put such things out of my mind. Dad was right. He could care for himself and it was time to focus on myself — on getting a good education and having a little fun along the way, despite it feeling unnatural, selfish and wrong.
Hot tears spilled over my cheeks, and I suddenly felt very alone. Frail. Incompetent. Quarantined in the dark with nothing but my tortured thoughts, I allowed the memories to flood back. I already missed him. My daddy. My best friend. But those days were gone. Living comfortably under his protection and watchful eye was no more. The thought was a scary one. Would I be able to live on my own and take care of myself? Who would I turn to if something bad happened? Who would take care of me?
As if in answer to my questions, more memories inundated me now: Having to remind Dad to take his pills; leading him to bed after finding him asleep in his favorite recliner, an open book dropped on the floor nearby with its pages splayed in the air; cooking dinner for Dad; doing the laundry for Dad; washing the dishes for Dad; and cleaning the house for Dad.
I’d taken care of Dad more than he’d taken care of me! Of course, I still needed his love and support, but I was strong, too — strong enough to manage a household, to weather adverse circumstances, and to care for a father and myself.
Peace washed over me as I accepted the truth: yes, obstacles would come my way during my time at Brightman, but I would be fine, maybe even forming a makeshift family of my own like Gloria had said.
A tell-tale flutter went through me as I dared to even ask. Would Everett be a part of my new extended family? I’d certainly like it if he was. I moaned into a pillow. What was I doing? I’d only been at Brightman a day and already had a crush — and on the most confusing boy I’d ever met, no less.
Happy one minute and brooding the next, Everett boggled me to no end, though then made up for it by his genuine concern for me and the way his transfixing green-pooled eyes communicated feelings I’d never experienced with a
“Then sweet dreams, my dear. It’s a pleasure to have you at Brightman,” he said with a slight bow.
“And thank you—” I quickly looked behind me to see if my dream room was, in fact, still there. “—for everything.”
“Anything for Evyatar’s daughter. Good night.”
I closed the door and backed up to it, taking in the living room and kitchen. This was all really and truly mine? It hadn’t quite sunk in yet, and I couldn’t shake the suspicion that it was part of some unusually cruel joke and would all be taken away in the morning as a newbie hazing ritual.
I ran into my bedroom and leapt onto the bed, sinking into the plush pillows. My eyes ached for sleep. After locating my face wash and toothbrush in a bathroom cupboard, I was soon ready for bed. Slipping between silky sheets, I breathed in their lilac scent, shivering from the cold glossiness against my legs. Turning off the lights, I lay in the dark, thinking over my day and the days to come.
If Dad were with me, per our tradition, we’d explore together, discovering hidden bookstores, local parks, the perfect coffee shop, the nearest Chinese joint, and the like. My heart sunk. It had always been my favorite part of moving.
Memories ambushed me now, as if they’d been lying in wait all day for this very moment. Taking off the brave face, I let go, allowing myself to feel and fall apart. A pang dully ached through my chest as I thought of home and remembered Dad. The look of his sad eyes again flashed across my mind’s eye. I hated saying goodbye to him earlier in the day. The day had been so long that it seemed like ages since I’d seen him last.
I wondered where he was at that very moment. In Alaska already planning for a day of unpacking? I shook my head, knowing he’d live out of his suitcase for a good month before finally deciding to unpack boxes and move in. But I had to put such things out of my mind. Dad was right. He could care for himself and it was time to focus on myself — on getting a good education and having a little fun along the way, despite it feeling unnatural, selfish and wrong.
Hot tears spilled over my cheeks, and I suddenly felt very alone. Frail. Incompetent. Quarantined in the dark with nothing but my tortured thoughts, I allowed the memories to flood back. I already missed him. My daddy. My best friend. But those days were gone. Living comfortably under his protection and watchful eye was no more. The thought was a scary one. Would I be able to live on my own and take care of myself? Who would I turn to if something bad happened? Who would take care of me?
As if in answer to my questions, more memories inundated me now: Having to remind Dad to take his pills; leading him to bed after finding him asleep in his favorite recliner, an open book dropped on the floor nearby with its pages splayed in the air; cooking dinner for Dad; doing the laundry for Dad; washing the dishes for Dad; and cleaning the house for Dad.
I’d taken care of Dad more than he’d taken care of me! Of course, I still needed his love and support, but I was strong, too — strong enough to manage a household, to weather adverse circumstances, and to care for a father and myself.
Peace washed over me as I accepted the truth: yes, obstacles would come my way during my time at Brightman, but I would be fine, maybe even forming a makeshift family of my own like Gloria had said.
A tell-tale flutter went through me as I dared to even ask. Would Everett be a part of my new extended family? I’d certainly like it if he was. I moaned into a pillow. What was I doing? I’d only been at Brightman a day and already had a crush — and on the most confusing boy I’d ever met, no less.
Happy one minute and brooding the next, Everett boggled me to no end, though then made up for it by his genuine concern for me and the way his transfixing green-pooled eyes communicated feelings I’d never experienced with a
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