Chapter 3 College

The night I discovered that my parents had been lying to me, I didn't scream, I didn't cry or unleash all my anger on a random person on the street; I acted. With the last of my savings, I booked a one-way bus ticket to Oregon. But I wasn't leaving empty-handed. No, I took my father'scheckbook as a parting gift. By the time they'd realize what I'd done, I would be long gone, a few thousand dollars richer. It was more than I needed, but just enough to sustain me and sever what bound me to them.

I was careful. Every move was calculated. With a heavy heart, I hurled my trackable iPhone into the depths of the river, letting the water consumed it.

It was done. There was no turning back now.

The cash I had stolen came from an ATM nowhere close to the bus stop, my house, or in Oregon. If my parents called the cops, there'd be no trail leading them to me. Thankfully, my mother had never seen the name of the university, so she wouldn't know where to start looking.

In the dead of night, I became a ghost cloaked in a black hoodie, a baseball cap and dark shades, nothing for the street cameras to recognize, no familiar silhouette to compromise my plans.

The bus ride stretched into hours, and with every mile that passed, I felt the chains around my life loosen as peace began to fill the air. When I eventually crossed the border to Oregon, the air was different. It was lighter, fresher, unburdened like the freedom I finally owned and hardly tasted.

When the bus came to a stop, I didn't go anywhere fancy. Fancy would be a mistake. It would be the first place they looked for me. Instead, I checked into a filthy, two-star roadside motel, the kind where the receptionists don't wearpants or ask questions, and the only witnesses were the rats running in the ceiling. They scratched and scurried all night as I lay awake trying to force myself to sleep, but I didn't care.

It was the one time I showed any level of indifference. I could have been sleeping on a hundred pieces of broken glass, and it still wouldn't have dulled the rush of freedom sending shockwaves through my very being.

Tomorrow, I'd settle into my dorm. Tomorrow, I'd become a new person, someone untouchable. A student, independent, but mostly unstoppable.

The stolen money would cover my start. A job would handle the rest. And when the time came, I'd apply for loans just like any other student, realistically carving my future with hands my parents could no longer control.

They thought they could trap me. They were dead wrong.

Once the morning light slashed through the sky, I stirredawake, my heart racing. My arms were still wrapped tightly around my luggage, the one carrying all the cash I had stolen. I clung to it all night, absolutely terrified that in my sleep, someone may have pried it from my grip. A wave of panic overwhelmed me as I checked the bag, my fingers tremblingas I panted.

"Still there. Whew!" I breathed.

Relief lasted only a second before the sheer filth of my surroundings slammed back into me. The motel room reeked of dampness and regret. Peeling myself off the rickety mattress, I scrambled to the shower, only to recoil at the sight-grime caked the tiles, the stench of mildew wrapped aroundthe air, and I was certain something moved in the corner.

Rats? Roaches? I didn't care to find out.

With a shudder, I abandoned the idea of showering. Rather, I tore open a half-crushed granola bar, shoving it into my mouth as I readjusted the same clothes from the day before. The fabric clung to me like a second layer of dirt, but staying in that room for another second felt like slow suffocation.

I grabbed my bag and bolted, my lungs filling with the crisp morning air the moment I shoved through the motel's rusted door. And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, the strangest thing happened.

A taxi parked idly at the curb; the seats still warm from its last passengers. I didn't question it. Luck was a stranger to me, and when it did appear, I acted on it. Without so much as a second thought, I flung the door open and sank into the seat.

As the taxi driver pulled away from the curb, I caught sight of him in the mirror. He was extremely hairy and plump. The kind of man who blended well into the background of everyday life. Nothing about him was remarkable except for his eyes. The way he kept staring at me, sharp and assessing, sent a discomforting chill down my spine.

Looking out of the window, I ignored the stares. Today was not a day for paranoia.

The drive was long. The university wasn't in complete isolation, but Oregon's forests wrapped around the roads, swallowing everything whole. Trees blurred past in a quick motion, endless and dark, their towering figures casting shifting shadows under the rising sun. It was chillingly beautiful, setting my nerves on edge.

Finally, we pulled up to the university gate. I breathed nervously, dragging my stolen money and luggage onto the pavement. The driver expectantly watched me in all of this.

On impulse, maybe out of arrogance or out of guilt; I handed him an enormous tip. Too generous, perhaps, but I had no change, and I hadn't earned a dime of the money I was throwing away.

With that, I swiveled around to face my future. Stepping into the life that awaited me beyond the gates. This was only the beginning.

"Here goes nothing." I exhaled, anxiety seeping into my tone.

Just as I was about to take off, my hands tightly wrapped around the handles of my bags, I heard a male voice say, "Didn't think you'd make it."

Immediately, I turned my head in the direction of the voice. It was him. The man who came to my front door with my admission letter in hand. But he wasn't sporting the all-black attire that made him appear enigmatic. Today, he was easieron the eye, owning the pitch-dark casual wear that matched the shade of his hair and eyes.

I strained my eyes to examine him, "You!"

He had the appearance of an ordinary student, but there was nothing ordinary about him. He stood apart from the average male crowd, giving off a quiet confidence that commanded attention. His striking features and powerful physique only made his presence impossible to ignore.

"In the flesh." He was cocky, folding his arms above his chestas he stared down at me arrogantly; a smug smile lingering on his lips, the kind that practically begged to be slapped away.

"What?" Puzzled, I questioned him.

"May not look like it, but my folks were actually Japanese. The name's Jackson Yu by the way. Sophomore." jested Jackson, doing a silly bow at the mention of his name.

Taking a deep breath and dramatically letting it out, he finished, "Follow me."

Like a sheep, I let him lead the way, dragging all my luggage as I trailed closely behind him. He seemed to know his way around, as he swaggered on like he owned the place, and all I could do was awkwardly try to keep up with his pace, dodging the plethora of students that passed, oblivious to both their surroundings and my presence.

Perfect. I was invisible.

Being invisible, I slipped through the crowd unnoticed until we made it to the front of the Admissions Office. Inside, I meta self-absorbed attendant who checked herself in her mirror and adjusted her hair every 10 to 12 seconds. When she finally handed me my files and accommodation details after the obsessive assessing of her looks, I turned but then noticed Jackson had vanished.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I exited the office, looking bewildered as I attempted to pinpoint the location of my dorm. While in my confused state, I collided with someone, or at least someone collided with me. Unbothered, he took off without looking back or uttering a word of apology. While that baffled me, it also pissed me off. You see, if you had a temper like mine, anything and everything was upsetting;apathy wasn't exactly an option.

Cornerstone sure had unusual characters.

But he appeared to be the most unusual. I had trouble getting a good look at his face as I could only make out his denim-clad backside. The most unusual thing about him was the intoxicating, drug-like trace of his scent. His perfume clung to the air around me, making it even thicker.

Was it lavender? No. This was something else, something almost unnatural like a fragrance that didn't just linger but haunted. His aura was irresistibly strong.

And then, he turned.