UI 101

By M. K. Claeys

Welcome to the University of Illington, where higher education doesn’t always take place in the classroom...

Southwestern bohemian beauty Rae, Midwestern punk rocker Ryn, and intellectual Southern Belle Mitzy meet for the first time on the wild ride that is college life. At UI, they encounter everything from being haunted by the past to having brand-new starts, going from the dean's list to being on academic probation, and dealing with dorm-room drama that becomes finding friendship where they least expect it.

So what happens when the place you were terrified of becomes your home and the crew of misfits on your floor becomes your family? You discover that the most important lesson is that where you are may be exactly where you belong.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Opal Moon Press
• Release date: Mar 13, 2018
• ISBN: 9781948121538

M. K. Claeys

Maddelein K. Claeys (or ‘MK’ to her friends!) is making her introduction to the formal publishing world with UI 101, but she is no stranger to writing. Her previous “claim to fame” is being rated in the top 10 of Fan Fiction authors, but she won’t tell you what series (although you can still find her other stories, if you know where to look)… Other published works include a horribly boring and technical dissertation that nobody wants to read, especially her. MK is an alumna of Michigan State University’s undergraduate program and has a doctorate in Clinical Psychology. She lives in North Carolina with her spouse, daughter, and two black rescue cats.

Book preview

belong.

1

Auraelia

What I wouldn’t give for a bit of freedom. Eighteen years I’d been stuck in this rinky-dink town, and what did I have to show for it? Well, let’s see...

There was the three-inch scar on my left thigh from when I’d fallen out of the maple tree when I was five. Oh, Daddy cut down that tree when I was fifteen, and good riddance, I say. I hadn’t climbed a tree since.

There was my high school record and diploma that said I graduated fourth in my class. Yeah, my class of ninety-seven. What an accomplishment.

There was the beat-up old Dodge in which I would be lucky if it didn’t have engine failure before I got across the country to start college this fall.

I stopped to think. I knew there had to be one more thing. Oh yes, the official piece of paper from the United States government that said since my mother was dead and we were no longer able to contribute her salary to our family’s income, I qualified for quite an enormous amount of financial aid. Well thanks, Mr. President. How will I ever repay you?

Whatever. Come August 25, I was out of this town for good. I hadn’t woken up with a smile on my face since I was eight years old, but today was different. Today was the day the realization I would be leaving this town behind finally kicked in. I woke up, dressed in my favorite long, flowy cerulean-blue skirt and white tank top. I checked my reflection in the mirror and decided that makeup or doing anything with my hair wasn’t worth the effort. As usual, this was as good as it was going to get. On my way out of the house, I scarfed down a bagel with veggie cream cheese for breakfast and headed into town for some last-minute errands. First stop: Abigail’s Place.

Here you go, Auraelia, your last paycheck, baby.

I’d known Abigail all my life—she used to babysit Sara Lynn and me when Martin was busy with school and football. She was like a grandmother to me, so it was only natural once I was old enough, I’d start working for her in her diner. The ’50s style restaurant, with its old-school checked floor, red booths, and black-and-white Rat Pack photographs on the walls surrounding the jukebox, felt like my second home. It seemed only right I was leaving now—Sara Lynn would be sixteen in September, so she could take my place as a waitress.

So there’s nothing I can do to change your mind, is there? Abigail signed off on my check. You’re the best server I’ve got, and you’re due for a raise.

I shook my head. No can do, Abigail. I’m ready to start my new life. I’m ready for college. But don’t worry. I’ll be back for Christmas and next summer, so it’s not like it’s forever, and you could always give me my raise then.

Well, I’ll miss you honey. Here. She handed me a separate envelope. Open it when you get to school and find you need a little piece of home, all right?

I nodded. Thanks, Abigail. You’re one of the few people I’ll miss in this town.

"Yeah, see you around, Auraelia. Shannon wiped down table thirteen. Make sure you let all those big city airs out of your head before you come back, or you won’t fit through the door."

I didn’t say anything. Shannon had always been jealous because I had gotten the assistant manager position over her when Lisa left to elope with her fiancé, Esteban. But now that I was leaving, Shannon would probably take it over. I didn’t see what she was so bitter about. The bells chimed when the door to Abigail’s Place closed behind me as though it was the last time.

No more waiting tables at the diner.

My second stop was the store to make a few purchases I’d need for my dorm room, and then I headed home. In the heat of the day, the streets were deserted, and I cranked up the air conditioner inside the old Dodge. I slowed as I came upon Don Webster’s house—his car was parked on the curb, covered in shaving cream and toilet paper. I pulled the Dodge over, rolling down the window as I came alongside.

Don, you all right?

Huh? Oh, hey. Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just, well, this is the third time this month. And the police don’t seem to have a lead as to who’s doing it.

"They don’t seem to have a lead? I scoffed. Is that their way of saying ‘We know who it is, but we won’t prosecute because we want to make sure Dave Baxter, John Ephrams, and Zach Thomas are only remembered for the championship trophies they brought home and not for misdemeanors?’ Please! God, Don, that is so pathetic!"

I know, he agreed as he pulled the toilet paper off his rearview mirror. You mind giving me a hand?

Of course I didn’t. Anything for Don—he’d always been there for me. Unlike some of my other so-called friends. I remembered the time I showed up to the desert kegger with my boyfriend, only to have the story come out that my supposed and now ex-best friend had slept with said and now ex-boyfriend. Don Webster had been the one to drive me home. A true friend, he asked no questions and I was not forced to tell any lies. The exes were two more reasons I wasn’t sorry to be leaving this town behind.

No more jocks toilet papering everybody’s cars just because they know the cops won’t do anything.

My cell phone rang as I left Don’s house. Dad, asking me to pick up—what else?—more toilet paper on my way home. Unfortunately for me, I decided to go to the corner store instead of the superstore, and I ran into one of the people I hated most—not only in this town, but in the world.

"Auraelia! Becky Jackson squealed. Hey, girl, how’s it going?"

I groaned inwardly. Speak not of the Devil, lest she appear. Becky Jackson was my ex-best friend. She was everything I had always wished I was—wealthy, blonde, beautiful, and insanely popular. Part of me wondered if she might just be a touch insane. Her obsession with my ex-boyfriend bordered on pathological. What could any woman see in a man who would cheat on someone to be with them? Once a cheater, always a cheater, right? I sighed.

Becky Jackson was the picture of perfection on the outside, and in today’s world, that seemed to be what really mattered. My dark brown hair hung long past the middle of my back and had a decent amount of body in it. I never did much with it; I usually just pulled it into a messy bun on top of my head. Becky’s blonde locks were immaculately coiffed and blown out. My eyes were green, but my blue shirt made them look almost hazel and a little more exotic. Becky wore colored contacts to make her eyes look even bluer than they really were. My skin was still tanned from the summer and from my mixed Native American background. I wasn’t Native enough for any kind of scholarship, but that part of my mom was something I always saw when I looked at my reflection. Some days it was nice to have the reminder, and others it wasn’t. I had tan lines, but I knew for a fact that Becky did not. She was like a moth to the flame of the booth at the local tanning salon where she worked part-time. Becky had a figure to die for. She wore push-up bras to maximize her cleavage, but she at least had something there to work with. I wasn’t really curvy, but my five-five frame had enough curves to at least be proportionate. Proportionate was good. At least that was what I told myself when I started wanting to compare myself to the Becky Jacksons of the world.

I’m fine, Becky; how are you?

I’m just fantastic! She attempted to keep my wavering attention, following behind my heels and chattering away as I made my way through the store. Hey, did you hear? she said, putting herself between me and the display of battery-operated bathroom clocks I was considering. Dave totally ditched Selma Watkins. I think he might ask me out again.

I cocked an eyebrow at her as I sped to the toiletries. That’s nice. I pretended the selection of toilet paper was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Really! Emma told me at the kegger last night. Hey, speaking of keggers, why weren’t you there? I mean, seriously, Auraelia, everyone was there! You totally missed it! Evan did a kegstand and totally fell over and knocked himself out. There was blood everywhere!"

"And you obviously don’t care how Evan felt about it, do you, Becky? Or the fact that he waited till his hangover had worn off so he wouldn’t get a ticket for being a minor in possession before spending the morning in urgent care, only for them to clean it up and deny him stitches because the wound had been open too long? I spat through clenched teeth. But you didn’t care to hear about that, did you, Becky? As long as it was fun for you, right?

"Well, it was really funny. God, Auraelia, what crawled up your moo-moo? Obviously not Dave," she retorted.

I almost threw my toilet paper at her but decided against it and slammed it on the checkout counter instead, nearly making the salesgirl fall off her stool.

"You know I don’t give a damn about Dave Baxter, Becky, and you know the only reason he’d ask you out again is for exactly that—to crawl up your skirt. So why even bother?"

Becky examined her nails and picked out a new polish from the display at the checkout. "Well, at least I get mine, Auraelia. You should consider it, and then maybe you wouldn’t be so uptight. Besides, at least I didn’t give it up to him, unlike some people we know."

I shoved my purchase into the bag and stormed out, not even bothering to take the dollar and thirteen cents change. I didn’t give it up to Dave Baxter, or anyone else for that matter, but that was none of her business. God, did I hate Becky Jackson.

No more small-town gossip. No more stupid keggers in the desert that turn you into the town leper if you don’t attend. No more post-football pool parties. No more Becky Jackson laughing at me behind my back, and no more Dave Baxter laughing at everyone behind their backs.

Honestly, what was there to miss by leaving for a school over a thousand miles away?

As I pulled into my driveway fifteen minutes later, I looked at my house for what would soon be the last time.

No more first day of school pictures with Sara Lynn on the front porch swing.

"Auraelia! Auraelia!"

I cringed. Yes, Mrs. Laurence?

Those bratty relatives of yours ruined my begonias again with their hootenanny ball game. You tell them to stay off my lawn and keep their ball under control or I’ll call the authorities!

Mrs. Laurence, I sighed. Melvin and Mya are five years old. It’s not like they have full control over their motor skills just yet. And besides, they haven’t been here in almost two weeks. They’re visiting their grandparents in Nevada. Are you sure a skunk or a jackrabbit or a fox didn’t get into your flowerbeds?

Yes, I’m sure, Little Miss Smarty-pants. And if you don’t watch your mouth and stop being sarcastic with me, I’ll call the cops on you!

God, I didn’t know sarcasm was a social more punishable by law.

No more arguing with the crazy neighbor-lady when my niece and nephew accidentally kick their ball on her lawn. No more hot spring for relaxing in the woods that we own behind our house.

Wait. Damn. No more hot spring was a bad thing. So my own private spa was something I didn’t want to leave behind. Out of all the other thousand things I couldn’t wait to wash my hands of, giving up one luxury wasn’t such bad odds. But I had two weeks until I left, and I was going to spend every spare minute I could soaking in it.

Sara Lynn? I knocked on her bedroom door a minute later. I’m going to the spring one last time. You want to come with me?

Sure, she said, marking her place in her book. Let me get my suit on, and I’ll meet you downstairs.

I grabbed my new oversize university tee, the one they’d sent me in my acceptance package along with a vinyl drawstring backpack with the school’s mascot, Bucky, screened onto it, and slipped it on over my bikini. I grabbed two bottled waters from the fridge and shoved them into the backpack along with a few granola bars and two towels. After that, I waited by the back door for my sister, and ten minutes later we were out of the door and trekking through the woods to our own private oasis.

It’s going to be weird with you gone, Sara Lynn commented as we settled into the steaming, sulfur-scented water.

Oh?

Yeah. It’s just Dad and me now. Martin and Ashley don’t bring the twins over very often. You know that.

"Can you honestly blame them? With how insane old Mrs. Laurence acts if their ball even touches her lawn?"

Sara Lynn laughed. No, I guess not. But it’s more than Mrs. Laurence that’s driving you to go away to college so far east.

I sighed. I can’t lie to you, Sar. You know how much I hate this town. I always have. That doesn’t mean I hate you or I like leaving you and Daddy by yourselves, it’s just… Well, it just means Evansdale is not where I think I’m meant to spend the rest of my life.

Can I come visit you? Sara Lynn turned toward her towel on the ground. I couldn’t see her face any more, but I had already seen the tears welling up in her eyes. The damage had been done.

Of course you can! I cried, swimming over to give her a hug, even though she tried to push me away. I’ll be home for Christmas, and then on your midwinter break in February, you can come and spend the whole week with me if you want!

Won’t your roommate care? Those rooms looked pretty small in the pictures.

Not if I threaten to kick her ass, she won’t. You’re my sister, and you are welcome any time. I’d do the same for her if she wanted her sibling to come visit. Who knows, maybe she has a younger brother who’s hot, and you guys can hook up, I teased.

Whatever! But cool. I want to see where you’re going to live. You want to see who can touch the bottom first?

I grinned. We’d played this game ever since we were old enough to swim. You’re on. Loser carries home the backpack.

Everything was packed. Nearly all I owned had been smashed inside that tiny Dodge, and it took me three attempts to fit my guitar in. No way was I leaving without it. It had been my mom’s, and to me, there was no price on its value. I thanked God I’d had the wisdom to buy a laptop instead of a desktop. I didn’t think everything would have fit otherwise.

I flipped on the radio and music filled the interior of the old Dodge. I had a full tank of gas and a brand-new student Visa credit card to buy more. A case of Red Bull from my brother Martin and a package of Chips Ahoy! chewy chocolate chip cookies from Dad and Sara Lynn sat on my front passenger seat, along with my one-eyed teddy bear, Pooka. I had everything I needed to keep me going through the night before I stopped to nap for a few hours and then drove on during the day tomorrow. The fact that I was leaving an entire day before move-in and welcome week officially started was not bothering me in the slightest. I was ready to leave this godforsaken town for good.

Bye, Daddy! I hugged him one last time. Bye, Sara Lynn. Be good, and send cookies!

I will! she agreed, giving me a squeeze. You know I’m taking your room, right?

Whatever. It’s not like I’ll be here to notice.

Take care, said Dad. Call if you have problems, okay, Pooh-bear?

I will, Dad. And I’ll call when I get there too.

I love you, honey. We’re so proud of you, you know!

Thanks, Dad. And I was serious about the cookies, Sara Lynn.

You’ll gain the freshman fifteen if you don’t watch it! Sara Lynn teased.

Good! chimed in Dad. Then I won’t have to worry about any boys!

"Dad! I shrieked, fastening my seat belt with a huff. Any boy I would even consider dating would like me even if I gained the freshman five hundred!"

That’s my girl. He leaned in to kiss my forehead before he shut the door.

Bye! I called. I’ll miss you!

But I sure as hell won’t miss Evansdale.

I finished backing out of the driveway and pressed the gas, pushing my sunglasses down with one hand as I cranked up the stereo with the other. It was perfect—my shuffle had selected Kelly Clarkson’s Breakaway. Life couldn’t be better. Less than twenty-four hours from now I would be starting my new life in a new city—a city! Not a town!—where no one knew that in the third grade I’d fallen face first into a mud puddle and had to wear the itchy, bright red sweats from the nurse’s office for an entire day. In less than one more rising and setting of the sun, I would be in an entirely new time zone where people watered their lawns and rose gardens and not their crabgrass and cacti beds. In less than one day, I would be starting my life in a completely new place where no one even knew my name.

I groaned. My name. My name was horrible, old-fashioned, stupid, and from my mom’s hippie lifestyle before she got married. Auraelia Staar Formosus. That was something else I could leave behind. I had heard of people going by their middle names once they went to college, but God knew my middle name was even worse and even more hippie-sounding than my first.

So what was I supposed to do? Just pick a brand-new name and start from scratch? How would I even remember to answer to it when someone called it out? This was something I couldn’t take lightly. I couldn’t just have everyone start calling me Auraelia after three months because I decided the new name I’d picked out for myself was worse than the one my parents had given me at birth.

---

It was nearly 2:00 a.m. I had been driving for over five hours, and nothing was coming to me. I decided to pull off the highway into a twenty-four-hour Waffle House. My last meal had been over eight hours ago, and I was starving. The cookies and Red Bull just weren’t going to cut it, and the sugar was kind of wearing my empty stomach a little thin.

I parked my car, locked the doors, and walked into the restaurant. Despite the fact it was now two-thirty in the morning, this Waffle House in the middle of Kansas was a pretty happening place. I sat myself down in the half of the restaurant that was open and checked the menu.

You waitin’ on anyone, darlin’?

Ah yes, the classic professionally disgruntled graveyard-shift waitress. Molly, according to her nametag, seemed to be having a rough night.

No, just me tonight.

She gave me a worried eye. All by your lonesome? Not to be motherin’ ya, darlin’, but shouldn’cha be inside somewhere nice and safe?

I smiled. Molly was a nice woman. Probably. I’m on my way to college out east, and I’ve got a long way to drive, so I left early.

Well, that’s right wonderful for ya, darlin’! Where ya from and where ya off to school?

I’m from Evansdale, New Mexico, and I’m going to school at the University of Illington.

Well, now, ain’t that nice. What can I get ya tonight, love? Maybe some coffee for the road?

I shook my head. No, thanks. I just drank about two cans of Red Bull, so I think I’m set as far as caffeine goes. Could I have some pineapple juice, though, please? If you have it.

Sure, hun. Molly gave me a tired smile. I’ll be right back with that. You just sit and relax.

I glanced back down to my menu, wishing I had a cigarette or something to keep myself busy while Molly checked on her other tables. I didn’t usually smoke, other than when I was drinking, but it seemed a person who frequented a Waffle House at 3:00 a.m. should probably come armed with a whole carton of nicotine.

Here you go, love. Molly finally came back. Fresh pineapple juice for ya. Did ya find anything on the menu?

Since it was so early, I was feeling more like breakfast than anything else, so I ordered their signature combo with grits, and surprisingly, it didn’t take long for my food to come out from the kitchen. And, even more surprisingly, it was actually pretty good. My pineapple juice was still a third full when Molly brought me out another one.

How’s everything going for ya, darlin’? she asked as she cleared away the previous glass after I’d emptied it.

Great! I smiled. Thanks, Molly, I really appreciate it.

She walked away toward another one of her tables. Unfortunately for her, it seemed to be one of those tables that, if I’d been waiting on them, I would have wanted to kill the occupants. They were loud, obnoxious, kept calling her waitress when they needed something, and nothing appeared to satisfy them. Every shift had at least one table like them, and these guys seemed to be giving Molly more than her fair share of grief. In fact, I probably would have screamed at them. But Molly just shrugged it off and moved on to checking her next table.

This woman is a saint. It’s watching people like her that make me think I can take a few more summers at the diner if it means I’ll never have to work in one again after I finish school.

Molly dropped off my check, and I smiled at her. Some people are just never satisfied, huh? I said.

Oh, darlin’, you had better believe it. You all right, though?

I’m fantastic, Molly. You were great.

Thanks, love. I want ya to promise you’ll be careful out there tonight, all right?

I will, Molly, I promise.

Good. I’ll pick that bill up when yer ready, darlin’. Just take yer time.

Molly had dropped off the check. She hadn’t even charged me for my pineapple juice, making my tab less than eight dollars. I pulled out a twenty and set it on the table, finished my second glass of juice, and stood.

I left the money on the table for you, Molly, I said as I passed her by the coffee station. Thanks for caring about me so much tonight. Take care of yourself, all right?

Sure, darlin’. You drive safe now. She smiled at me again as the obnoxious table hailed her with another round of Hey, waitress!

I made sure that Molly was heading over to pick up the money I’d left her before I stepped into the bathroom to splash some water on my face and use the toilet. As I was walking out, Molly was standing over by the register with the other waitress on duty, shaking her head with a wide grin on her face.

Sally, you remember that sweet young girl over at table fourteen, the cute little brunette all by herself?

Yeah? What about her? She walk out on you? Sally asked.

No, Sal. She went and left me a twenty on a bill of six dollars and thirty-five.

Did she now? Sally was beaming at my now empty table.

She sure did. A right ray of sunshine in my night that little lady was.

I smiled and slipped out of the front door and to my car. I was still smiling as I pulled on the acceleration ramp to get back on the highway. I, Auraelia Staar Formosus, had been a ray of sunshine in someone’s night.

"Rae."

I whispered it to myself under the cover of the radio playing quietly in the background. My mom had called me Rae as a pet name. It had been so long ago I’d all but forgotten about it.

Rae.

I said it louder this time. I liked it. It was short, to the point, and exotic, almost.

Hi, I’m Rae. Rae Formosus. Do you want the top bunk or the bottom?

I nodded and turned up my radio. Rae Formosus wasn’t a person to be messed with. Rae wasn’t the kind of girl who let the star quarterback copy her Algebra II final just because she knew he would flunk and not be able to play in the rivalry game if she didn’t. And besides, Rae was mysterious. She was from out of state. Rae was everything Auraelia had wanted to be since grade school but couldn’t. I had always been known as sweet Auraelia, who’s always nice to everybody. Yeah, it had always been sweet little Auraelia.

It wasn’t until my senior year that I had finally started standing up for myself. Well, I had called it standing up for myself. The school guidance counselor had called dumping orange soda and granola on Dave Baxter’s head a latent expression of anger repressed from my mother’s death ten years before. Um, no. It was an expression of my being pissed off because my boyfriend had just cheated on me with my best friend. News flash, shrinky-dink. Not everything has to be about unresolved childhood issues. Auraelia Formosus was the girl who would trade you the cookies in her lunchbox for your carrots if you bullied her just hard enough, whereas Rae Formosus was the kind of girl who would tell you where to go and buy your own damned cookies.

I yawned. It was after five, but I had spent more time at Waffle House than I had intended. I smiled, recalling how I had made Molly’s night. It had been worth it, even though now the pancakes and grits were making me feel comatose. I watched the signs on the side of the highway. There was a rest stop in twenty miles where I could take a nap. I pulled underneath one of the lamps in the parking lot, knowing that any freaks would be less apt to approach me in a well-lit area. I rescued Pooka from where he had fallen into the foot space in front of the passenger seat and shoved him up against the window to use his snuggly self as a pillow. Grabbing my throw blanket from where I had laid it over the top of all my stuff in the back seat, I settled in for a few hours’ rest.

Tomorrow would be here soon, but it wouldn’t hurt to be well rested when it arrived.

2

Kathryn

Why wouldn’t it shut up? Seriously, it had to be the crack of dawn, and already my phone was ringing. Fumbling on my bedside table, I managed to grab my cell before it vibrated itself onto the carpet.

’Lo? I mumbled.

Hi, Ryn, it’s Brian!

I know it’s you. What’s up—besides me now?

Not too much, babe. I was just calling to ask if you had reconsidered my offer yet.

Thanks, but really, my mom wants to move me in. I think she’d be offended if I made her stay home.

I know. That’s why I offered last night to come with the two of you. I can help you carry the heavy stuff and set up your room with you. I can stay the night if you want, too, if your roommate turns out to be a freak.

I laughed. I’m sure she’ll be fine, whoever she is. Mom and I have everything under control, and my dad will be coming if he can get off work early, so really, you don’t need to help.

You know, Ryn, I’m starting to think that you’re hiding something from me.

What could I possibly have to hide? You came and visited me at my orientation weekend, even though it was against university policy. You know everything there is to know about everything, and then some.

What is it about you going to college you don’t want me to be a part of? Brian fretted. "I mean, if you’re nervous, you don’t have to go. You’re not committed or anything. I mean, seriously, you’ve been so weird lately; you’re completely overreacting about this whole thing. If it’s stressing you out so much, maybe you would be better off staying home and going to community college. We could get an apartment together or something if the only reason you’re going is so you don’t have to live with your parents anymore."

Brian, really, it’s nothing like that! I insisted as I threw my pillow over my face. "You know I’ve been eating, sleeping, and breathing going away to school since before we started dating almost two years ago! This is everything I ever wanted!"

I know, and I just want to be a part of it.

Of course you’re a part of it. I wouldn’t have applied if you hadn’t told me you thought I could get in.

Yeah, that’s true. And you wouldn’t have tested out of your math course if I hadn’t taken the online placement test for you.

Right. So don’t worry about me, all right? I pleaded. I’ll be home next week for anything I left behind, but right now I just think I need this time to myself to get used to my new surroundings.

If you don’t want me to come, Kathryn, just say so.

"It’s not that I don’t want you to come, I just—"

So I can come? Cool! I’ll be there in fifteen min—

"No, Brian, it’s not that either. It’s not that I don’t want you to be there today; it’s just that I don’t need you there. I need to learn to be independent. I need to do this by myself."

"Well, then why is