The rebel

Her dark hair is cut short, probably by herself with the wrong sort of scissors, as the pieces are choppy and uneven. She has a narrow face, dark almond-shaped eyes, a long, slim neck.

The pages of her book are thin and colorful. It might be a graphic novel. The cover is bright yellow with a red splotch on it.

That’s all I dare to observe, scared that she’ll catch me looking at her.

I place my toiletries on top of the dresser, then stack my sketchbooks and pencils on the nightstand. I slide my empty suitcase away under the bed.

Then I sit down on my thin, narrow mattress.

There. I did it. I unpacked.

Now I just have to get through the rest of the year.