“Do you want to take those today?” Dad asked, appearing in the door way of my room. “Or shall I bring them tomorrow for you?”
“Um…” I turned to him, standing in the middle of my now empty room. “I thought I could move today. That way, I could get a good night’s sleep and go right to class tomorrow…”
“Oh.” He replied. “If that’s what you want…”
“Dad,” I said, trying to smile. “We’ll see each other MORE now than we did before. It’s going to be fine, I promise. If anything, I’ll be safer because you spend all day just down the hall from me.”
“I know,” he nodded, but his eyes were still sad. “I’ll just miss you.”
“You won’t have a chance to miss me.” I grinned. “I’ll bother you every moment of the day.”
“I hope so.” He gave me a firm hug, not letting go for more than a minute. Finally, he stepped back. “You want to go by yourself and unpack, don’t you?”
I nodded.
“I’ll be back for dinner. I promise. I just want to get a feel of the place.”
“Alright,” he said, and reached into his pocket, handing me the keys. “It’s room 66, on the 6th floor.”
“Great,” I put them in my purse and picked up the last box and a bag, kissing him on the cheek. “See you at dinner.”
I had only ever snuck into the dorms once before, and it was years ago. There was a double door at the front that required two keys, and then a key to each floor as well as your own dorm room key. So nothing prepared me for the beauty I was met with when I entered the lobby.
On all sides of the security desk were murals; stunning and colorful and ceiling high. In seemingly random, yet perfect spots were headshots and photographs of students and productions long past, staring back at me with contented eyes and happy smiles. I instantly felt at home and comfortable. So at home, in fact, that I walked right by the desk without checking in.#p#分页标题#e#
“Excuse me!” A girl called out to me as I walked by, and I turned, sharply. “Do you live here?”
“Uh…I’m new, but yes? I think so?” I replied. She smiled, reaching out her hand.
“I’m Sheena.”
“Amy,” I said, carefully juggling my load to shake it. “I’m uh…I don’t know where I’m going.”
“Are you a senior?” she asked brightly, and I nodded. “And what course stream are you?”
“Uh…” I paused. “I’m the scholarship winner?”
“OH!” Her eyes lit up. “You’re the winner. Congrats then! You’re in the theater wing. Do you have your room number? I can take you.”
“Sure,” I handed her my key, and she started down the hall. “What uh…other wings are there?”
“That’s the dance wing, there,” she said, pointing down one hall way. “And the musical wing is that one, off to the left. And then the technical wing, for all things not on stage,” she pointed to a hallway behind her. “It’s more for organizational purposes, you know … like all the dancers can easily have a meeting in their common room, and all the actors can have rehearsal in their hall way. It’s not really cliquey or anything, we all hang out all the time and we all take some cross -stream classes.” She was leading me towards an elevator, which opened with my key. Getting inside, she pressed the 6th floor button. “The higher you go, the older the students are. Makes it easier for the dorm mothers to manage. You’re on the second highest floor - the one above you is more of a hotel, reserved for visiting artists and such.”