Dressed in only a towel, Mireyah stood in front of her section of the closet. This was the best and the worst part of the process. Everything was potential now- was there an undreamt of combination that would give her the air of mystery she wanted? Or were her choices nothing but lame ass, farm girl, hokey productions that would mark her as a hick from a block away? She sighed. This was a big deal, as such things were- her first college party. Her first soiree, she told herself. There would be boys there, her roommate Cheryl told her- single, straight boys, she emphasized- lots of them!
It was torment talking her parents into letting her move in with three other girls in a tiny apartment 12 blocks from campus. On top of her moving 1300 miles from home, the thought of her with three other foolish freshmen in the big city gave them the creeps. But she argued the economics like the businessperson she had no intention of becoming until they gave in.
It was times like this, staring at a forest of possibilities- skirt or pants, boots or flats, heartbreak or loneliness, outcast or hipster, that she feared they may have had a point- maybe the city was too much for a girl who used to go months without needing nylons.
“Let’s go, Mires!” Cheryl called from the front room. “We’re late!”
She started picking items. “I’m coming!” she called back.