Wallflower Diaries: The Beginning

  Wallflower Diaries

  The Beginning

  By Raven Jane

  To all the wallflowers out there, waiting in the wings for the strength to bloom.

  Prologue

  Dear Diary,

  I decided to write down my story, hoping it will help others like me before I forget how I used to be. Before I forget where I came from. Before it fades away like a bad dream.

  It all began ….

  Fall

  Simone Pierce wiped her brow with the back of her hand, not sure it would do much good given the general slimy feeling of her skin. She paused and looked down the hall in both directions allowing the gravity of the moment to sink in.. Every person slowed to a crawl and sound ceased as if she’d suddenly fallen into a strange time warp. College. She made it. The back pack and laundry bag slung over her shoulder marked the final break from childhood.

  “Move it!”

  The husky voice broke Simone’s trance sending her stumbling toward the room she would be occupying for the next several months. Her roommate had not arrived yet so Simone claimed the top bunk, two drawers in the tall dresser, and the closet with fewer dust bunnies and half-peeled stickers. You snooze, you lose as Mom always said. Standing in the doorway, Simone surveyed her mother carefully unpacking one of the half dozen matching suitcases, carefully folding each into a perfect rectangle before placing it in a pristine stack of similar items. The bed was covered with piles of clothes, each as neat as the next.

  “I don’t think it is all going to fit, honey.” Without raising her head, Irene Pierce’s disapproval over her daughter’s perceived over packing is loud and clear – even with the calamity in the hallway. Simone sighed and entered, wishing her father were there to act as a buffer.

  “I will make do, Mom. Really.” Simone dropped her bags in the middle of the room, the only available space at the moment, and leaned in to grab a handful of panties from her mother’s hands. “I can handle this. Besides, Dad should be back with the pizza in a bit.” Nodding her head toward the desk chair Simone added, “Take a load off.”

  “Are you just going to live out of your bags?”

  “Mom. Sit now, reproach later.” Simone tossed the underwear in the half-open top drawer and exhaled forcefully. “It’s not like you are living here.”

  “No, but you will have a roommate who may appreciate a neat room –“ Her mother trailed off in the most uncharacteristic manner. Concerned, Simone whirled around to find her mom staring at the doorway with an odd expression on her face. Following Irene’s line of vision, Simone came eye to eye with the glorious person who managed to silence her mother. Grateful for the interruption she was polite enough to disguise her own shock.

  “Can I help you?” Simone’s cocked her head to the side as if truly interested in this creature’s needs at the moment while she really sized the girl up.

  “I’m Josephine, I think we are roommates.” Little more than a whisper, the girl’s statement could barely be made out over the traffic in the hallway and Simone wondered if she even spoke at all. Still, Josephine sauntered in, averting her eyes in a peculiar way. She disposed of her massive knapsack and old-fashioned, ragged suitcase on the bottom bunk before stepping over a suitcase toward Simone. Josephine flipped her long, blue bangs from her eyes and half-smiled as she offered her pale hand in greeting.

  Simone eyed Josephine up and down. Her new roommate’s rather petite features reminded Simone of a fairy statue you find at a tourist shops. She could be pretty if she tried, drop the ridiculous black-rimmed glasses, wash, comb, and choose a normal color for her hair, and maybe, just maybe try a bit of makeup. Resisting the urge to wrinkle her nose, Simone took Josephine’s hand in her own and shook it lightly, still scrutinizing the latter’s appearance. Josephine paired a long-sleeved, black sheer blouse with a black leather vest and a long velveteen skirt that fell to the floor covering what appeared to be worn moccasins. On top of it all, Josephine wore an oversized patchwork cape that would be better served at a Renaissance festival. Simone struggled to decide what to call her roommate’s hodge podge style when she emailed her friends later. If only the girls could be here for this. The school could not have paired up two more different people to share a room for the school year.

  The desk chair scraped against the tile floor and snapped Simone out of her reverie. Irene Pierce had clearly recovered from her shock enough to observe the usual social niceties. Simone felt a harder than necessary nudge in the middle of her back. It was enough to trigger her voice as she stood there, still shaking Josephine’s. “I’m Simone. This is my mother, Irene.”

  Josephine withdrew her hand to acknowledge Simone’s mother with a dip of her head. “Hello, ma’am.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Josephine. Are your parents on their way up?” Irene took on her usual sickly sweet approach to people she deemed second class. Simone used to be unnerved by the obvious degradation but somehow found herself growing numb to the condescension. She wasn’t sure that was necessarily a good thing. Simone did not want to turn into her mother – not one bit.

  “No, ma’am. It’s just me.” Josephine stepped away, careful to avoid Simone’s luggage, and began unzipping her knapsack.

  Undeterred, Irene continued to push for more information. “I’m so sorry, dear. It must be hard to move in all by yourself. Simone and I would be happy to help you.” Simone sighed and returned to unpacking her own gear, not caring enough for her roommate at this juncture to prevent the impending third degree.

  Apparently un-phased by the back-handed insult, Josephine answered in the same small voice, “No thank you. This is all I have to move in.”

  “Well, that is quite sensible. I tried to tell Simone she did not need to bring everything she owns with her but she simply would not listen. Perhaps you will be a good influence on her, Josephine, dear.” Irene never missed an opportunity to make her daughter feel insignificant, why would the first day of college be any different. Simone stifled a groan reminding herself that Irene and all of her not-so-pleasantries would be hours away soon enough. Simone would be left to unpack and lounge and interact with her roommate any way she pleased. If she could just make it through the next hour or so it would be home free. Just as the room fell into an awkward silence and Simone was certain her mother would start in again, Jack Pierce showed up, pizza in hand.

  “Ah, I see your dreams of bunking alone have been dashed after all, Princess.” Simone blushed at her father’s ribbing and silently took the pizzas off his hands. He winked and nodded toward Josephine who was exceptionally focused on the contents of her suitcase. Undeterred, her father stepped toward Josephine and tapped her lightly on the shoulder. She didn’t startle at all which Simone found quite interesting. “Jack Pierce, Simone’s Dad. And you are?”

  “Um, I’m Josephine. Pleased to meet you.” The young woman had to look up to take in all of Jack Pierce. A former linebacker for State, Jack Pierce was more than a head taller than Simone who was the tallest of all her friends by far. Josephine was a good head shorter than Simone so she appeared a dwarf beside Jack who hadn’t lost much since his glory days on the college football team.

  He smiled warmly and Josephine seemed to relax. “Why don’t you join us for pizza, Josephine?” Jack nodded toward the boxes.

  “No, thank you. I am meeting some friends at the dining hall in a while.” Josephine withdrew a bathrobe and plastic bag full of cosmetics from her knapsack. “I need to clean up anyway. Thank you for the offer. Maybe some other time.” She offered a lopsided smile and slipped out of the room as quietly as she arrived.

  Irene wasted no time on commenting. “She is an odd girl.”

  “Irene, it’s h
er first day at a new school and she seems to be alone. Give the kid a break.” Jack cleared a spot on the desk and accepted a slice of pizza from his daughter.

  “But her clothes! And she has no family here and-“

  “Irene, I said, leave her be. Have a slice of pizza and relax for a moment.” Jack Pierce was the only one capable of interrupting his wife on a regular basis. “Simone, have a slice.”

  Nobody needed to tell her twice, Simone was hungry from the move and snaked a piece from the box she’d balanced neatly on a suitcase. The family sat in silence for a while after that leaving Simone to her thoughts. She mentally went over her class schedule, her cheerleading schedule for the week, the list of things she needed to get for her room, and anything else she could come up with that allowed her to uphold the silence. When the last piece of pizza disappeared into her father’s hand it left her mother with nothing to occupy her mouth.

  “Are you certain about not rushing a sorority, honey?” Irene stared pointedly at her daughter.

  “We’ve been over this before, Mom. I want to focus on my studies and keeping my scholarship this year.” Simone added her main argument as an afterthought. “Besides, that was always your thing, not mine. I will have plenty of sisterhood with the squad.”

  “But darling, sorority sisters are for life. Most of my friends now were my sorority sisters in college. What if you are missing out on your future best friends because you won’t try-“

  “For God’s sake, Irene! Leave Simone alone. Enough of this ridiculous sorority talk.” Jack stood, drawing up to his full height. “Why don’t we say our good-byes and let our daughter settle in.”

  Simone stood and smiled at her father. Before she could thank him for intervening, Jack Pierce wrapped his daughter in his arms and kissed her forehead. “Take care, my girl. Study hard and be good. I will be here for Homecoming weekend, alright?”

  Nodding into her father’s large chest, Simone hoped he’d leave Irene at home. Everything was easier when it was just the two of them. They would watch football and drink beer, stay up late for a horror movie marathon and sleep late on Sunday. They would skip church services and brunch, ignore the social niceties and go for a run instead. There would be no condescending remarks about Simone’s life choices, her wardrobe or her general demeanor. Simone sighed, imagining a weekend like that with just her Dad, thinking of all the times her mother had gone away with the girls and they’d been left to fend for themselves. She would miss her father more than anything. “Love you, Dad.”

  “Love you too, princess.”

  Simone couldn’t avoid it anymore. She woodenly turned into her mother’s awkward embrace. Her father swore that deep down Irene loved Simone and just wanted the best for her but it was difficult to believe most of the time. It seemed more likely to Simone that Irene wanted to re-live her own glory years vicariously as opposed to supporting her daughter’s chosen path whether she agreed with it or not. “Bye, Mom.”

  “I’ll miss you, Simone. I love you, honey.” Sealed with a light peck on the cheek, Simone almost believed her mother. Almost.

  Within moments Irene and Jack Pierce were pulling away and Simone was left in the room alone. It was then that she wondered where her roommate had wandered off to. Nobody could take a shower for that long. Shrugging off thoughts of her odd roommate, Simone returned to unpacking her belongings. As it turned out, most of her clothes fit in the closet thanks to the cloth hanging shelves she’d purchased. Her shoes slid under the bed and her cosmetics occupied just over half of the dresser top, she didn’t think Josephine would object to that little infringement. Simone stacked all of her suitcases inside each other like a nesting doll and slid it in the depths of her closet. That had been her father’s suggestion and she mentally thanked him again for purchasing the practical set. Looking around the room and taking inventory, all that was left was the box of memories and her supplies. Simone couldn’t face unpacking the memories yet so she wiped down her desk and began setting up her supplies much like she’d had them at home. Stapler, bright colored post-its and tabs, pens, highlighters, tape and lots of white out all stowed neatly in black wire containers. Finally, she pulled out her laptop and set it up, plugging it in to the outlet to charge while she showered. The memory box got wedged between the beds and the desk for a time when she was less emotionally fragile. Maybe.

  Pulling her shower caddy, terry robe and wash supplies from their new homes, Simone quickly undressed, slid into her flip flops and headed for the community bathrooms. The halls had fallen quiet since her parents’ departure but Simone could hear the soft thumping of music through some of the doors. Empty boxes and packing tape now littered the hallways and Simone had to kick a few from her path as she traversed the hall. Hoping against all she’d heard of dormitory bathrooms, Simone pushed open the door marking the community lavatory. Cleaner than she feared, the toileting area reeked of cleaning solution that overpowered the pathetic potpourri bowls lining the steel counter over the sinks. Wrinkling her nose, Simone pushed onward toward the showers which were thankfully partitioned off with drab, gray-tiled half walls. Shower liners seemed to be missing from three of the seven shower stalls not that those with liners appeared to offer much privacy.

  The last stall appeared to be occupied so Simone slipped into the first stall with a shower liner and attempted to set her items out in such a way to keep them dry for the duration of her cleansing. It seemed a futile effort given the shelf placement and too small liner but Simone tried. Thankfully, the water pressure seemed above average as the blast hit her bare arm and sent a ripple of pleasure through her body. At the very least she would be clean this year. Just as Simone began lathering shampoo in her hair a strange guttural sound came from the far shower. Its occupant had been rather silent up until this point but now chose to announce his or her presence. Simone tensed up at the thought of a male resident being in the shower room with her. She vowed to get a heavier, darker liner to put up for her showers. The sounds intensified into rhythmic moans as Simone washed her hair clean and she considered checking on the other resident for a moment. The moaning ceased suddenly and Simone strained to listen for breathing or some assurance that the far shower’s occupant was alright. She was rewarded with a soft slow pant and the unmistakable sound of people kissing and fondling each other.

  “Joe! Don’t stop!” The sound of skin meeting tile followed. Embarrassment colored Simone’s face and she rushed to finish up. Moaning intermingled with ragged panting accentuated the squeal of wet hands over tile. Simone unconsciously tilted her head to the side allowing the water to flow down her neck, over her breasts, taking with it all residual suds. Feeling like a voyeur, the young collegiate turned her water off. As she slipped into the oversized terrycloth robe a loud shudder emanated from the far stall where steam still billowed from the partition and only the outline of one head could be seen. The curtain rippled slightly and a pair of dark brown eyes caught hers for an instant, flaring in surprise as a shriek of ecstasy emanated from the stall. Shocked, Simone turned on her heel and fled, practically falling in her haste. Once she hit her dorm room, Simone let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

  Unsettled, Simone stood dripping water from her long blond locks onto the floor and marveling at the indecency of the two people in the bathroom. Realizing what she’d actually witnessed, Simone felt dirty again. Forcing her discomfort to the depths of her mind, she opted to dress slowly and meticulously taking additional time on the tangled, drying strands of hair. By the time her post-shower routine was complete Simone felt normal again and decided to email her friends an update on her move-in. None of her high school friends were attending State this year, but then again, none of them were legacies with semi-famous fathers, stellar GPAs or cheerleading scholarships. She didn’t resent them but she did miss them, now more than ever. In the pseudo-silence of her dorm, Simone even wished for the company of her odd roommate who never managed to return from her shower. Perhaps Josephine st
opped back while Simone was in the shower though she wasn’t quite sure how that was possible. Did it really matter? Simone squared her shoulders and flicked on her laptop, why was she worrying about her odd roommate anyway?

  Typing in the string of names, Simone contemplated the impersonal nature of a group email but conceded the practicality of telling her story once as opposed to repeating it eight times. She wondered what the girls would think of the bathroom incident. Deidre would probably laugh and say it was nothing but then she was the slut of the group and the only one to sacrifice her virginity in high school. Simone was pretty sure Bonnie and Val had given into to their boyfriends over the summer but the rest, including herself, were steadfast in waiting. If all of the STDs weren’t scary enough, women had to worry about pregnancy and being labeled easy. Simone shook her head in disgust as she typed the story to her friends, careful to embellish in all the right places. By the time she’d finished, a flush had built in her cheeks and Simone wondered what it would feel like to be in the situation, wondered how it would feel to be brought to climax by somebody else, how exhilarating it would be to know somebody else could see or hear you in those private moments. Her hand slid from the mouse on her desk to her leg and down to the crux of her frustration. She rubbed along the sensitive parts of her inner legs, relishing the friction from her cotton pants. Moving her hand up to her waistband she slipped it down beneath her panties to the edge of her hairline. Creeping downward, Simone tried to picture what “Joe” must have felt like, how he looked, how his hands felt. Her skin was practically on fire with need as she finally touched herself where it mattered most. A soft shudder rippled through Simone as she stroked the swollen nub aching for relief. In her mind, the imaginary lover kissed at her nipples and whispered lovingly into her flesh. In reality, Simone rippled and jerked as she cascaded over the edge of pleasure into pure bliss.