It was either the soothing, warm air that I first took notice of, or the scent of freshly waxed floor. I had entered the lobby of the campus which in a bizarre way appeared more like a room belonging to an office rather than a school. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a thin woman seemingly in her late 40's or early 50's motioned her hand at me as if to say: 'over here'. I walked over to the large desk and mentally read the nameplate stating: Ms. Kintin (a rather tinny sounding name right?).
Ms. Kintin looked up at me as I reached the over cluttered desk, her small nose, (the space between her nose and her upper lip was a bit much in my opinion), cringed as if she had smelled something foul. I would have shaken her most likely boney hand, but my cheap gloves were soaked through and no one I currently know wants to shake a wet, freezing hand.
"Hola, como-" she began , speaking (or at least trying to) in Spanish.
"Um, sorry I speak English…" I interrupted.
"Oh," Ms. Kintin said briskly, "I thought for some odd reason you spoke French." "Am I at the right place…?" "At any rate," she continued, twiddling her fingers, "my files show that a Ms. Liara Foster, age 18, from Pennsylvania, would arrive on September 4… I presume that is you correct?"
"Yeah that's right," I confirmed, pointlessly nodding my head.
"You are fully aware that this school year began on the 2nd?"
"Yeah," I looked down at my boots, "I'm sorry about that, I… someone changed my mind last minute and I decided to come." This was the first time I had said this aloud instead of just thinking it. I didn't really understand why I was feeling so… weird about it.
After giving her my ID proving that I indeed was Liara Foster, Ms. Kintin gave me a map and a gave me a code to my dorm room to memorize. Turning around to leave, I was jumped in surprise as a girl dressed in what looked like medieval RPG gear flew down the hallway on something that looked like a skateboard.
"Alto!" Ms. Kintin yelled in Spanish, jumping out of her chair.
"We don't speak French, Ms. Kintin!" yelled another running after the girl who had just passed. "And for the last time, Amira, give it back!" A tall boy with styled brown hair, (seriously it looks like a professional stylist did it) continued to run after her.
"Um, well I'd better be off to my room then," I said, looking forward to nothing else but taking a hot shower and getting some sleep.
"That would be best," she said curtly. "I must apologize for the malfunctioning speaker outside; it is rare that something like that would occur… at least here anyways." She appeared to be pondering this thought as I left the lobby, taking care not to slip on the floor, which was indeed freshly waxed.
"What is with this place?" I wondered as I passed through the many hallways, too exhausted to look at the decorated walls. "Maybe I shouldn't have come here, it's seems... off…" But I know he would be disappointed in me if I left, and I wouldn't- couldn't do that.