Cindy Staton. I wasnât expecting you until next semester. I was so sorry to hear about what happened to you,â she said. Her smile was polite, but confusion was revealed in her gaze. Bleu understood. She had dropped in, unexpected, injured, and asking for a chance. âPlease letâs go into my office so I can see how we can work this out.â
Bleu stood and followed her into a comfortable office. They sat before Ms. Staton continued. âHow are you?â
âIâm alive,â Bleu replied as she lowered her head in angst. âI would really just like to start school.â
She could see the skepticism in the ladyâs face as she shook her head. âYouâve missed so much.â
âI know. I know. Iâm willing to do the work to catch up. I swear I can do this. I just have nowhere else to go. I took a chance on coming out here. I can do this. I will, no matter how hard it is,â Bleu assured her.
The counselor was silent for almost a minute as Bleu sat impatiently awaiting an answer. Against Ms. Statonâs better judgment, she nodded her head. âOkay. Okay. Iâll admit you. Letâs get you registered and then send you over to Student Housing to iron out your living arrangements.â
âYes, yes!â Bleu exclaimed. Her smile couldnât be contained. âThank you so much.â After so many things had gone wrong in her life, finally something was going right.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
âWho the hell are you?â
Bleu froze when she opened the door to her dorm room and saw the group of girls sitting on both beds.
âWho are you ?â Bleu shot back to the girl before her. She was pretty, exotic, with slanted eyes that gave away some Asian in her heritage but brown skin that exposed her true flavor. She was petite, with style for days. Her jet-black hair fell in layers down her back. The group of girls were dressed impeccably. Shoes with red bottoms adorned their feet while Chanel and Louis V handbags dangled from their arms. Bleu walked completely into the room, dropping her suitcase at the end of the bed that was unmade.
âUmm, what are you doing?â the girl asked.
âIâm your roommate and Iâm making myself comfortable,â Bleu replied. She waved her hand at the two girls who were seated on her bed. âExcuse me,â she said as she tried to maneuver around the girls.
One of the girls sucked her teeth and didnât budge as she turned her attention back to Bleuâs roommate. Bleu sighed. She had tried the decent approach. She was exhausted and her tolerance for bullshit was at an all-time low. She didnât have time for a battle of wills with these spoiled little rich girls.
âExcuse me,â Bleu said.
It was as if she were speaking to herself. They dismissed her without even looking at her, making her temperature rise. âMove your ass off my bed,â Bleu said, losing patience for this high-fashion mob of mean girls.
The girl moved as Bleuâs roommate snickered as she leaned over her vanity to apply her lipstick. Her makeup was done to precision, and when she was satisfied with her look, she popped her lips and blew herself a kiss. âWhat are you? Some kind of gangster? Where are you from, Detroit or something?â the girl asked, causing the others to cackle condescendingly.
âWhere are you from?â Bleu shot back.
âBeverly Hills,â she said curtly with a smirk. âDonât touch my shit, okay?â
A knock at the door interrupted the war of words as the door opened. A light-skinned dude with a curly Mohawk and a skater boy swag stepped inside. He was attractive but a little too clean-cut for Bleuâs tastes.
âHey, baby, weâre almost ready,â the girl said.
âCome on. Youâre going to make me late. You know thatâs bad business,â the guy complained. He looked at Bleu and nodded his head. âWho is