Chapter 1 I Have To Move

• JULIANNA
• I don't like riding the bus.
• It's not because I think it's too crowded or dirty; it's because it takes so long to get to and from school. I live about 30 minutes from Brown and 30 minutes from point A to point B. Buses, on the other hand, don't just go from A to B; they take many different routes and turns. All things considered, that makes my commute closer to an hour.
• As a student, I get to start and end my day with a long bus ride. I'm always tired, and I have everything I might need in my backpack because I can't go back to get something. My day starts at eight in the morning and ends at eight at night. This much work should be against the law.
• But today's bus ride wasn't to get to class; it was to go see Carlo in the City. Carlo and I met in my freshman philosophy class. He came up to me and asked if this was accounting for 10:15, and I had to tell him that he was in the wrong class. It turned out that he had mixed up the order of his classes and thought our introduction to philosophy was supposed to come after.
• Since then, we've been friends, and we used to get coffee together after class. Carlo never studied, and I mean never. I wasn't sure how he'd made it this far in school without a set schedule. We weren't best friends, and he had other friends, but he was nice and kind. Just has a lot of ADHD and would forget his own house keys if he didn't always have a carabiner holding them to his belt.
• We couldn't have been more different from each other. We were good friends and talked a lot, but our lives couldn't have been more different. I was always organized and ready for "what-ifs." Carlo, on the other hand, slept for two weeks on a pile of laundry in his room because his bed hadn't arrived at his apartment.
• I hadn't seen him in a while because he'd been at a co-op placement in Newark since January. Now that he was back in the city, we decided to get coffee. Carlo was an economics student who had to graduate in April. He was a year ahead of me, so I didn't know where he was going next year. We hadn't talked much, and that was mostly my fault. I always forgot to answer people's texts.
• Carlo's apartment was only a 15-minute walk from campus, which was the one thing I wished I had. I'd only been there once before, when he first moved in last August.
• I wanted to be independent and free like the other students my age and live in a student apartment.
• Most of the people I went to highschool with wanted to leave Rhode Island. I, on the other hand, wanted to stay. Why go 100 miles away from home when I already got into an Ivy League school near where I lived?
• But that seemed like a worse and worse choice, and I felt sad and alone. When other kids my age were drunk to the point of passing out in a frat basement, I was at home in my small bedroom. I had the money saved up, but I couldn't afford to live by myself, and none of my friends were looking for places. Everyone I knew at school was closer to other people, which left me alone.
• I stop being upset when I hear the bus announce my stop out loud. I get up and walk to the door, where I wait for it to open on its own. I walk out onto a campus corner and look around. It's still pretty quiet. During the summer, only researchers and summer students were on campus.
• I only had to carry a tote bag today because I didn't have school or work. I just met an old friend for coffee. I also got to wear a tank top and a pair of summery shorts. I wasn't a very fancy person, but I spent more time on my appearance and getting ready today than I usually did for a trip to campus.
• I walked up the road to "The Grind," the campus coffee shop. It was in a cute little building next to the arts center. I go inside and look at the specials written on the blackboards.
• I wasn't very good at getting along with other people. With people I didn't know, I was quiet and awkward, and with people I did know, I was a bit too enthusiastic. I was always in my own head, forcing myself to change how I felt depending on what was going on.
• "Hey, what can I get for you?" When the woman behind the counter asks, her lip piercing dances in the light, and I momentarily lose track of what I was thinking.
• "Uh, could I get a latte with ice?" I ask quietly while looking for my wallet in my bag.
• "How big is it?" He asks, not sounding very interested, and I try to be nicer, worried that she'll be upset that I didn't tell her sooner.
• "A medium, please." When my hand finally closes around my wallet, I smile.
• "Just regular milk?"
• "Please, say yes!" I shrug and keep a light tone.
• "That will be $62; do you have cash or a card?" She asks, and all of a sudden my heart starts racing. Almost $7 fucking dollars for an iced latte?
• "Please take my card." I let out a sigh and pull out my debit card. When I tap it against the machine, I feel like I can hear it crying. She gives me a number, and I wait for Carlo at a table.
• I hook my bag to the back of my chair and look around for my cell phone. When my phone buzzes to let me know I have a text, I unlock it to read it properly.
• CARLO [11 .01PM]
• "Running late, I'll see you at 5."