UNEDITED
After violating campus rules and committing student misconduct, twenty-three-year-old Warren Ashford is deep trouble and at risk of losing his volleyball scholarship -- the one thing he truly values other than his bad boy reputation, and hi...
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Nova
It's pretty obvious, without even trying, that Vancouver is hands-down the best city in Canada. If Canada were a high school, Vancouver would be that popular guy everyone loves, yet it never seems to get to his head. He's on all the sports teams, is passionate about environmental issues, and is just so naturally beautiful it hurts. And so, like every girl to ever walk this planet, I've always dreamt of visiting Vancity. I've wanted to dip my toes in the Pacific Ocean; stroll along the seawall of Stanley Park; feel the burn in my hamstrings after hiking the famous Grouse Grind.
That's what I would have done if I were a tourist.
The fact that I was accepted for journalism at one of the best universities in Canada still has me shaken to the core. I can't believe that I, Nova Jane Elliot, am going to be living here for the next two years. When I first received my letter of acceptance and read it with my mom by my side, we both found ourselves in a fit of pure shock. It was sheer insanity. I applied for the university thinking that my work would never have enough originality or quality to be chosen, but it appears I was wrong. Things simply fell into place after that: I was assigned a dorm room, received my schedule for the winter semester, managed to find a job at a bakery on campus, and I even found a gym that is solely dedicated to spin classes in the downtown area.
With one earbud in, my attention partially focused on the music playing and half on the guidance counsellor that's showing me to my dorm room building, I try my hardest not to get distracted by the boldness of the mountains that surround the city. Moving from a small town in Alberta, where everything is focused on oil and how harsh the winters are, to a huge, mountainous city like Vancouver is almost overwhelming. But I like it. There's something alluring about visiting a place you've never been; nobody knows who you are or what your past holds. You're just another stranger walking amongst other strangers.
It's Saturday, and the campus is abundant with students all dressed in warm clothes suitable for the chilly weather. As we walk past a group of students, I catch snippets of complaints about how cold and depressing the weather is. I roll my eyes. We obviously have different views on winter weather. Yes, it is quite chilly, but it's nothing compared to the winters I grew up with. And my current attire proves it; I'm wearing a thin red sweater beneath my worn leather jacket, grey skinny jeans, and black ankle boots. There's no toque on my head and there are no gloves on my hands. My only accessories are the denim backpack that's slung over my shoulder and the suitcase trailing behind me.
"Well, here we are," the guidance counsellor says.
I blink and look up. Her exceptionally high-pitched voice is drowned out by my favourite band, but no matter how loud the volume, I would probably be able to hear her halfway across campus. Her tone is irritatingly painful. It almost makes my ears want to bleed.
I'm not particularly thrilled to be around someone who reminds me of a pixie that's high on sugar, but I needed someone to show me my building so I could get settled before the winter semester officially begins. I've been trying my hardest to smile, to grin so that I don't have to provide reasoning as to why I'm not a social person and basically repel every person that approaches me.
