“One of the deepest longings of the human soul is to be seen.” -John O’ Donohue
I t dawns on me as I enter the cozy dorm room that I haven’t read the paper the school mailed to me regarding my roommate. Internally I scold myself for not bringing the envelope-pretty much the only thing of mine that I didn’t bring with me. I drop my beat-up hand-me-down duffle bag on the brown, tight-knit carpet, feeling like my old things somehow work really well in this ancient looking space. Perhaps there’s something posted in the room, I think to myself, as I begin frantically searching the walls of the room for a piece of paper listing our names.
Nothing. Hmm.
And just as I pace to the open door to see if I missed anything posted outside, she appears.
She radiates happiness and bubbles over with personality, her curly brown hair wild around her beautiful face. Her lips are turned into a huge smile, dimples adorning her cheeks, her brown eyes wide with excitement.
“Elizabeth!” she cries, dropping her luggage to her feet, wrapping her arms around me tightly, as if we were best friends long separated by war. I return the hug, the smell of her designer perfume bleeding into me.
“I’m so glad to meet you!” she is still quite excited as she pulls away, resting her hands on my shoulders while she sizes me up.
“Well aren’t you a knockout!” she smiles, taking me in. I can’t imagine how this beautiful girl finds plain me to be a knockout but nonetheless her flattery sends warmth through my body and I feel my cheeks go pink.
“You can call me Ellie, or Elizabeth.” Nervously I fiddle with the bottom of my frayed cut-off shorts. “I’m sorry, I didn’t bring my paperwork with me,” I whisper, feeling quite bad that I do not know her name.
“Kyra,” she smiles warmly at me and as we look at one another, I can see the sincerity in her eyes. She may change her mind about me when she knows that I’m poor and came from a trailer park and have to work to keep myself fed, but for now, in these few moments, she likes me and it feels good to have a friend.
“That’s a beautiful name,” I say, meaning it. “I’ve never heard it before.”
She nods, dragging her luggage in from the doorway. She has three large suitcases and suddenly I’m aware that she’s alone.
“How did you bring these up on your own?” I ask, pulling her last bag into our small space for her.
They are designer bags, marked with expensive luggage tags. I look at her as she settles onto the bed opposite from me. She is slender with a small chest and curvy hips, both of which are accentuated by fitted denim capris and a second-skin white tank top. She slides her sandals under the bed and pulls her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Her wrists are adorned with glittering bracelets, full of silver charms and sparkly things.
“My Dad brought me,” she rolls her eyes and holds one hand out dismissively towards the door, “but I wouldn’t let him come up. He carried the bags into the hall downstairs then I made him go.”
I can see she is picturing her father; a look of adoration crosses her face briefly before she moves on.
“Who brought you?” her eyelashes flutter, her breath baited as she awaits my response.
“I took the bus,” I say sheepishly, quite aware that a person like Kyra has probably never even been on a bus.
“My mom had to, well she was busy, or, I dunno,” I feel myself flush again and Kyra reads my body language instantly.
“Well, all that matters is that you’re here now!” she gushes, leaping forward off her bed to sit next to me. “Let’s unpack and then let’s go get
coffee and then let’s go to Target,” she nudges me. “Yeah?”
I smile and nod. “Yeah.”
Her friendship is so easy, she is so kind and I hope beyond all hope that I am reading her correctly and she is indeed sincere. I remind myself how much I’d like to have a friend, as pathetic as it sounds.
I’ve never met a person outside of my small town, so I am not sure of my plan with Kyra. Do I divulge my sad little life to her or do I let myself be elusive and mysterious for as long as possible? I fiddle with the hem of my shorts again as she sings loudly to the music, driving us in her electric car to the local coffee shop that she’s googled from her cell phone. I am suddenly surrounded by all of the things I’ve longed to have and it feels… surreal. I am not mysterious, I remind myself, and to forge ahead with a true friendship, I decide honesty in the best policy.
We settle into the small wooden chairs at the coffee house, bluesy soul music wafting through the air, almost inaudible over the foaming machines and chatter of caffeine enthusiasts. She comes back to the table with two big glass mugs and slides one to me.
“Chai tea latte,” she smiles. “It’s my favorite! I know you’ll like it. But it could take a few drinks.”
It’s like she knows I’ve never had a fancy latte before and I smile, appreciatively, taking a sip. It is earthy, almost, and on first sip I think it tastes like old tea bag water.
“Again,” she nudges me on, reading my expression.
I sip again, and once more, the final note settling on my tongue is spicy and warm, and I decide that I do indeed like chai tea lattes… is that what she said it was?
“Ooh,” I say, licking the foam in the crease of my mouth before giving her a thumbs up.
She giggles at my hand gesture before tucking herself closer to the table, leaning in on the sticky wood surface, face in her hands.
“I want to know about you, Elizabeth.” And something tells me she really does. There is a quality about Kyra that I can’t say I’ve ever come across. She is so easy to be around and she seems so very kind.
“Well, I’m from Wyoming. A small town called Lander,” I wait to see if any recognition flashes in her face and of course, it doesn’t.
“My Dad left when I was four years old, I’ve lived in a trailer with my mom my entire life,” I wait for the disgust to wash over her, for her to realize she’s beneath her station with her poorly dressed, underprivileged roommate. But the look-the look I’m so familiar to receiving-it never comes.
“And?” she says, sipping her chai, a ribbon of foam settling on her top lip.
“I never really had any friends. My mom was the… friend to all men…in Lander. Parents didn’t want their kids around me. So, I worked, saved, and studied. And now I’m here. And I don’t plan on ever going back.”
That is the very first time I’ve spoken my truth out loud and God is it liberating. I feel free and I know if she chooses to dislike me now, I’ve at least got nothing to hide. She traces the top of her mug with a manicure finger, nodding.
“I’m your friend,” she smiles, and once warmth crawls up my neck and settles into my cheeks. I believe her.
We sip our teas and begin to familiarize ourselves with one another. We actually do not share a ton of common interests; she’d prefer parties and going out whereas I like staying in with a book or a movie, she is a communications major with her dream job being a syndicated podcast and I am an English major with the hopes of becoming a school teacher, attention from men and women alike seems to magnetize to her whereas I am a person who feels invisible most of the time. And yet, we mutually enjoy the company of one another. I make her laugh with my silly observations and her bubbly joy seems to be contagious because as we leave the coffee house, I find myself smiling… for no reason.
We soar up and down the aisles of Target, Kyra pulling all sorts of things down from the shelves and putting them into her cart. As embarrassing as it is, I know it’s important for her to understand me, so that going forward she knows what I can and can’t do. One of the things I can’t do is spend money. Because I barely have enough for the essentials, meaning I have none for fun.
“Kyra,” I whisper, fiddling with my shorts once more. “I don’t have a lot of money ” and my body betrays me once again, my arms wet with nervous perspiration. She stops the cart and puts her hands on my shoulders, like she did earlier, when we first met.
“Ellie- I can’t decide if I want to call you Ellie or Elizabeth!” she laughs gently and I wait. “Elizabeth, I am buying these things for OUR dorm room and you don’t owe me anything. Ever. Every single thing I have is yours, too.”
An unfamiliar tingle branches through my chest and I can feel tears forming behind my eyes. I look down to my very old, worn out Converse and clear my throat before thanking her.
“I will pay you back,” I say, not wanting to concede to being a total charity case.
“You will not,” she scoffs, “and if you try, I will only give it back!” and with that she’s gone, disappearing around the corner. I hear her shout cheerfully from the aisle next to us- “Elizabeth! Come here! We have to have a lava lamp!” I can’t help but smile as I turn the corner to meet her.
WE CHECK out and load the bags into the back of her car, which is so new it doesn’t even have real license plates yet.
“I love your car,” I say, softly closing the trunk while she digs around in her bag for something.
“Oh yeah?” she shoots me a look and I can’t quite understand what it means. I don’t know her well enough yet. “Well you’d love my Dad then because he picked it out.”
The car is electric, expensive no doubt, and has all the bells and whistles.
“It’s the safest, I guess, and he didn’t want me at random gas stations so he turned up a few days ago with this. I’d have preferred something a little less… old man… but,” she shrugs, before finding her phone in her purse. “Here it is!” she types for a moment and I can hear the locks release on the car.
“Hey, that’s pretty cool,” I try not to let my eyes go too wide with excitement at her vehicle, but I can see I’m not doing a great job.
“Wanna drive us home?” she offers, raising her eyebrows, walking to the back of the car. Before I have a chance to say no, she is opening the passenger door and settling herself inside.
The smooth and sleek leather steering wheel makes a noise like calmly crashing waves as it slips through my hands. My foot barely puts weight on the pedal but the car pulls us forward with a speed I’ve never felt. It is silent as it flies through the streets, my heart racing at the thrill. I glance over at Kyra and she smiles back at me as she glances up from social media.
“I’m glad you like it! You can use it whenever you want. And I mean that, Elizabeth.”
Is she for real? She is so nice. For a moment I wonder if this is some big scam or trick, because trailer park Elizabeth has never experienced a person like Kyra before. But before I can let myself go down a rabbit hole of worry, Kyra begins to ask me more about my life. I’ve already decided on honesty. There’s no going back now.
“So, Elizabeth-I think Elizabeth is so much more beautiful, I like it better than Ellie-” she’s thinking this to herself aloud before she continues. “Do you have a boyfriend back in Lander?” a mysterious blaze fills her eyes, her lips pursed quizzically as she awaits my response.
I shake my head emphatically.
“Of course not,” and there’s that heat again, opaque on my cheeks.
“Now why the hell do you say it like that?” there is underlying anger in her tone, as if she’s mad at my response. I tilt my head and release a tired sigh.
“Kyra,” I say, unsure how to word my thoughts without being completely self-deprecating.
“What?” she is nearly shouting back at me across the console now.
“Lander is small. Being poor and coming from… a broken home, I
guess, it’s not a trait that guys seek out.”
She pauses, looking forward, digesting these words before turning to me again.
“You earned yourself a place at this prestigious school,” she waves her arms in front of her as the University appears before us, as I pull into the dorm parking lot. “You’re smart and obviously a very hard worker. And more than that, come on, you know you’re gorgeous.”
I almost choke on my breath when she says those last words. I want to answer her more sophisticated but I sputter out: “I so am not!” I move to push open the car door but she stops me, resting her hand on my knee.
“I don’t know what it’s been like for you before those and I won’t pretend I get it. But now you’re with me. And I won’t be best friends with someone who doesn’t know their worth.”
She smiles then slips out of the car. I sit there for a moment, taking it all in. I feel like I’ve won the lotto having Kyra be assigned as my roommate. I feel myself smile, alone in the car, imagining what life will be like now that I’m free of Lander.