"I need space." Those were the words Jacky said to Ryan the night before they both left for separate colleges. Now, each of them will try to learn who they are without the other. Will their paths lead them back together?
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Jacky Jennings stood in the doorway of the dorm room, staring at the two beds with their bare mattresses, two desks, and the scuffed-up combination closet/dresser that took up all of one wall. This is it? he wanted to say, but then his mom was right behind him.
"This is it," Mrs. Jennings affirmed. She gave him a nudge. "Go on, let's get you unpacked. Is your roommate here yet?"
The room was obviously empty, walls bare. A whole three feet of space between the two beds. "Nope, he's not here yet." He managed to make his words sound like he was rolling his eyes.
"I still think you should have emailed him or something. You could have coordinated your colors."
"Everything goes with black and gray." Jacky hurled his duffel onto his bed.
"Ah yes, there's my ray of sunshine." Mrs. Jennings dragged the wheeled plastic bin with most of Jacky's other stuff into the room. She dropped it then looked around. "This seems smaller than I remember my dorm room being."
"You think?"
"I'm sure it's the same size." Mrs. Jennings tossed Jacky the car keys, then started unzipping his duffel. "Go on and get your laundry basket, I'll make up your bed."
He'd rather have it be the reverse than to have the other students and his new roommate see his mommy making his bed. But then he remembered how awkward it would be to make his own bed one-handed, and bit back a sarcastic comment as he headed back into the crowded hallway.
A few months ago, he had imagined moving into a college dorm he'd be sharing with Ryan, and Ryan would have saved Jacky from all of this: both the effort of physically carrying things, and the heaviness of the looks people would give him when they realized he only had one arm.
Of course, there would have been looks Ryan would get, the "what a nice guy, taking care of the disabled." Everyone would have looked at Jacky and thought, "He can do so much better." There would be the inevitable day when Ryan would find someone else. Someone better.
He had made the right decision, he told himself. He needed to learn to exist without Ryan's protection.
It didn't stop him from glaring at every eager college student who had also arrived early on move-in day, who would now bear witness to Jacky's struggle to achieve the most basic tasks.
He unlocked his mom's car with a beep and wrestled the wheeled laundry basket to the ground. The fact that his laundry basket was filled with all the snacks and food his mom thought he'd need outside of the dining hall, and a full jug of detergent, made this all the more difficult.
"Hey, need a hand?" a male voice asked, and Jacky turned to find himself looking into the face of a guy who might have been a model on the college brochure: longish sun-streaked hair under a backwards baseball cap, chiseled cheekbones, and a friendly smile. Not to mention the muscles that filled out his orange polo shirt.
