-1-

From the moment the plane landed, I had crippling anxiety. The dialect was different, even though we were speaking the same language; clothing styles were unique; even the food was going to be a drastic change from my college diet of burgers and fries. Ireland was instantly beautiful—everything green, bold, and rich. Since I've never been away from home for more than a week, the next five weeks are going to be terrifying.

"Breathe." Kristy laughs at me as I stare out the window of the public transport bus.

I glance briefly at her and back out the window to a rainy Ireland day, not wanting to miss a single sight. "I am breathing."

"Well, you seem like you're going to puke, and you have since we left home. What are you so worried about? Five weeks here, one week of finals when we get home, followed by three, easy weeks until our ceremony. We are practically college graduates. You should be excited! We're in Ireland! This trip is going to be amazing!"

She stares at me with raised brows, waiting for some type of reply. Kristy thinks this is a holiday and we are here to party. We're not. I need to focus. My entire future is riding on this "trip".

"It's not a vacation. This is five of the most important weeks of college. You act as though we are finished. We're definitely not."

"School by day. Vacation by night!" she says excitedly. Also in a way that says she's looking for trouble.

I roll my eyes at her and go back to staring out the window at all the dampened, green grass. We pass crippling castles, farms, and beautiful churches. The homes are mostly small cottages—unlike the large farm houses I'm used to back in Iowa. I wish we had time to see more of Ireland. The schedule lying in front of me is extensive. I read it for the millionth time, attempting to commit it to memory.

Monday - Thursday
10AM - 4PM:
Filmography Musical Direction Class
(Prof. Tomlin, Room 73 of Campus B)

Friday
10AM - 12PM:
Exams/Final Music Selections Due*
(Tomlin/Sullivan**, Room 52 of Campus A)

Saturday-Sunday:
No Classes

Final Project:
Weeks 4-5 are dedicated to the last project.
No class until May 1st, finals day.

*Note:
Final four music selections will be on the class site on their due date. Voting will take place this same day by all students from Filmography, Cinematography and Musical Direction classes.

**Note:
Crypt Studio Internships will be rewarded after Graduation Ceremony. Alex Sullivan, CEO, will discuss this process in Ireland Class, day 1.

By the end of this trip, hopefully, I will have successfully become a musical director. We are here to score the movie our school's filmography and cinematography classes are shooting. They film, and we compete to add the perfect music. I came ready to compete. I want to be the head of my class and lead this project.

Kristy slams her hand down with a paper filled with addresses over my schedule. Her attempt to startle me was futile. I'm used to her constant need for attention.

"And those are?" I ask, not actually wanting to know.

"Bars, Annie. Good ones. Bars with delicious Irish beer and delicious Irish men with panty-wetting Irish accents. I have found a different one for every night we are here."

"A different man every night?" I grin, arching a brow in her direction.

"You know me." She shrugs. "I totally would."

She would. Four years of sharing a dorm with her—there's not much she wouldn't do. This doesn't mean that this is what I'm into. The thought of that literally makes me want to gag.

I casually pass the paper back to her. "No thanks."

"I'm going to break you out of that good girl shell if it's the last thing I do on this trip." She grabs my schedule from me.

"What are you doing?"

"Editing." She clicks her pen open. The tone of her voice has turned evil. Her devil horns are showing.

"You can edit all you want. School, studying, eating and sleeping is all I'm doing."

This does not differ from when we are home in our dorms. I have no life outside of school, and I am perfectly okay with this situation. It's gotten me this far. Why mess it up now?

Kristy passes back the schedule a few minutes later. Every night now says BARS & MEN from 7pm-10pm. Hilarious.

"I went easy on you. My bar time is from seven to two."

The bus stops at our destination, and I shove the schedule back into my bag. "Not happening," I assure her with a smile.

"Annnnieeee..."

While whining like a child, she displays a pouting bottom lip. She always does this to get what she wants. Sometimes I fall for it; most times, I don't. Kudos to her for attempting.

"Kristyyy..." I mimic her pout. I protrude my lower lip until I can't help but laugh.

"Please? Don't make me go out alone every night!"

She continues acting like a four-year-old who wants a piece of candy with her pouting as she grabs my carry-on bag from the overhead compartment and offers it to me. I accept the bag and begin my way to the front of the bus, hoping she will drop the subject.

"You are more than welcome to visit my room and study with me every night from seven to ten."

When I finally make it to the front of the bus, taking the two steps down to the pavement outside, I can smell the fresh air. The entire road is enchantingly beautiful. Not just beautiful, but uniquely stunning. Every business is two to three stories tall, all connected in rows that stretch behind eye's reach, and they are all a different shade and color. Our hotel is vibrant yellow with what appears to be a red clothing alterations shop on the east side and a green dive bar on the west. It's simple and makes it much more fun and eye-catching. Nothing back home looks like this.

"It looks like an ad for Crayola." Kristy observes with a giggle.

"I think it's neat!"

We take our time and make our way through the outdated hotel—one filled with furniture and fixtures which appear older than my grandparents—with Kristy offering a criticizing remark about every little detail she sees. The lack of elevator has her complaining the entire way up a rather narrow flight of stairs. Of course, we just had to be on the third floor. Thankfully, our suites are directly across from one another and are private compared to many of the rooms on the two main floors. This hallway only has four rooms, with another beside mine, and the fourth much further down the hall.

Hallelujah! I get a break from my best friend. I love her to death, but this is the most exciting part of this trip so far.

"Tonight. You, me, clubbing?" she asks before we part ways.

"Good night, Kristy." I roll my eyes and walk into my very own room.

"Party pooper!" she yells as the door shuts.

Finally, peace.

I drop my luggage as soon as I walk into the room and scan my surroundings, taking in my new home for the next five weeks. It's small. On one side of it, there is a tiny kitchenette with a beige fridge and coordinating microwave. In the center, there is a queen-size bed with a desk pressed tightly against the right side of it. On the opposite side, there is a small bathroom beside an open wall with nothing more than a console TV.  Pretty sure they stopped producing those in the eighties.

Basically, it's a dorm filled with antiques.

Now that I'm alone, my anxiety really sets in. I sit on the bed's edge and peer around the space once more, attempting not to panic. It's weird to be so far from home. I wish I could be carefree like my bestie, but so much is riding on this trip I just can't stop thinking about what would happen if I failed at this.

Please, let these five weeks go fast.

As I am limited on study time, I pull my textbooks out of my bag and flip one open. I read our assignment from before we left, dragging my purple highlighter across lines I feel will be important for finals. By the time I've finished the first page, almost every line is purple.

Startled at the sound of a loud squeak, I jump, dropping my capped highlighter to the floor in the process and seeing it roll under the bed. It's a goner, because there's no way I'm sticking my hand under there. The squeak is followed by the sound of water being turned on in the room to my left. I realize this hotel is old, but shit, it's loud. Loud enough that had I been sleeping, I would definitely have woken up, likely with a scream.

Thin walls, noted.

I can literally perceive the change in the water pressure as the occupant of the room beside me steps beneath the steam. A man whistles a tune and in no time at all, I'm annoyed with him.

Seriously? Who whistles in the shower of a hotel?

I huff, knowing this is going to be one long-ass trip if this is where I am expected to study.

Suddenly, I hear laughter in the hallway that sounds like the people could be in my room, laughing right beside me. One is Kristy, who seems to have found people from class to take her out tonight. The whistling beside me gets louder and then I catch the fridge in my room making a gurgling noise. More aggravation fills me as I slam my book shut and fall back on my bed with a bounce.

Five weeks can't be over soon enough.

Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top