In this story, I share the first chapter from my college days with my roommate Heather. Everyone is over eighteen. I welcome your ratings, comments, and suggestions. Please leave them here or send me a message. Thank you for all the encouragement and suggestions you gave me for my first story.
September 2023 Edit: Dear readers, I wrote Heather Chapter One and Chapter Two before I had a proofreader, and the stories contained typos and grammatical errors. This edit, with the help of kenjisato, corrects those errors. Other than that, I did not change the story.
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It was September 2012, and I was going away to college. My name is Ashley. Last April, I turned eighteen, and this was my first time away from home. That morning, my dad packed the SUV with things I could not bear to leave behind. There were four suitcases full of clothes and shoes and four boxes full of personal possessions I could not part with.
It was a three-hour drive to the college I was attending. For most of the trip, I reflected on my past to mask the apprehension that I was feeling. Yes, I was scared to be alone, but I was glad to be away from my parents. I also reflected on my strict Catholic upbringing. Both my parents are devout Catholics, so religion has always been a big part of my life. Although I have always gone to public schools, catechism and receiving the sacraments were mandatory. While most of my girlfriends dated at younger ages, I was eighteen before going out on a date.
That date was with my first boyfriend, Justin. He was the boy who took my virginity. He was six months older than me, and we had similar backgrounds. He was over-six-feet tall and had an athletic body. He was the starting forward for our varsity basketball team, so it was no surprise that he was accepted to a college in the Midwest on a basketball scholarship. We were together for most of our senior year, but only for one month of the summer. By July, he left for basketball camp and made his basketball dream come true. We promised to call and text, but I knew our lives were going in different directions. Although we did not break up officially, we did not commit to being exclusive.
I was sound asleep when I heard my mother call my name. I opened my eyes and saw my dad get off the freeway and drive through a residential neighborhood. That was when I saw the campus. It was exceptionally large, with dorms along the campus perimeter. We were told to arrive at a set time. When we got to campus, we were greeted by student volunteers who helped us carry my stuff to my dorm room.
As we were led to my dorm room, I was incredibly nervous. We opened the door, and I was shocked. The dorm room was tiny. Much smaller than my bedroom. In it, there were two twin beds, two bedside tables, and two student desks. There were also two dressers, but they were part of the closet. I looked at my stuff, and I looked at the size of my room and said, "Oh shit."
My mom replied, "Ashley, don't swear."
I was glad to be the first to check in, so I could get used to my new home. After I made my claim to the bed by the window, I began sorting through my belongings. My dad looked at all the things I packed and said he wanted to see the campus. Thus, my mom and I were left to cram everything I brought into my side of the dorm room. Despite my mom's best efforts, everything could not fit. When my dad returned to my room, he saw a suitcase filled with clothes and shoes. There was also a box filled with belongings that I now had to part with. He looked at the suitcase and box and said, "I guess you want me to take this back to the car."
My parents gave me a big hug and left to check into a nearby hotel. Before they left, we made plans for them to return to my dorm and take me out to dinner. As I watched them leave, I began crying. I had been talking bravely for most of the summer about how I wanted to get away, but I was scared. Moreover, my parents were returning home with a suitcase full of my clothes and shoes. For the first time, I was alone, and I wondered if I would survive the next four years without dropping out of college.
After a while of crying, my tears ran dry. I was worn out, and as I began to doze off, I heard the door open. Looking up, I saw a girl who appeared to be older than me walk into the room. She must be my new roommate. To be accepted into the dorms, if I didn't have someone I wanted to live with, which I didn't, I had to fill out a questionnaire, and the dorm administrators would try to match me up with someone. This must be the girl they had picked.
The administrators may have made a mistake. The best way to describe my new roommate was to say she stepped out of the 1960s. She was wearing a front-tie, floral top and matching floral pants. She was not wearing 1960s boots. Instead, she wore sensible shoes that were more comfortable than fashionable. All she brought was a backpack and a duffle bag.
She saw that I had been crying, and she walked up to me, leaned over, gave me a huge hug, and said, "Hi, I'm Heather. What's wrong, honey?"
I am not sure why I did it. Maybe it was the genuine concern Heather showed. Or, I may have needed to let out the feelings I was holding back. I broke down, and I blabbered for ten minutes without stopping. I talked about Justin and whether we had a breakup. I told her how hard this school was going to be. I told her my parents had taken some of my belongings back to our home. She just listened, and when I stopped chatting, she said, "Everything will be all right."
There was something about Heather and the sympathy in her voice that made me believe her.
As Heather put her possessions away, we got to know one another. I told Heather about my Catholic upbringing and my strict parents. I then asked Heather to tell me more about her and her family.
She was twenty-two years old. She transferred to this college from a local junior college. Heather's parents have had been married for thirty years. Besides herself, she has an older brother and sister who still live at home. Heather and her family lived on a large commune property. It held four individual-family homes. Even though the families lived in separate houses, they shared food that was grown on the property. The families were all close. When she was growing up, the families helped take care of each other's kids so their parents could work outside the commune. As the kids got older, they were all homeschooled. Then she dropped a bombshell. She told me that the commune was a naturist commune.
Completely unaware of the term, I asked Heather, "What is a naturist?"
She smiled and replied, "A person who feels comfortable without coverings not only at home, but also on commune property."
"You mean a nudist, right?"
Heather replied, "No. Nudism emphasizes the practice of nudity, while naturism highlights an attitude favoring harmony with nature and respect for the environment. Choosing to be nude is just part of an overall lifestyle."
Then she added, "Naturism is a lifestyle that encourages nudity, and nudists simply undress for a swim."
Her last explanation made me smile.
It was going to take some time to get used to what she told me. I had so many more questions I wanted to ask Heather, but there was a knock at our door. Heather went to open the door and saw my parents. My parents looked at Heather with a confused look, but then my mom saw me standing by my bed.
My mother said, "Hello, you must be Ashley's roommate. We are Ashley's mom and dad."
They entered the dorm room, and we chatted for a little while. It was getting close to the time we had to leave for dinner, and my dad looked at my mom. My mom knew what my dad was asking, and she gave my dad a look that said if you must.
My dad turned to Heather and said, "Heather, would you like to join us for dinner?"
Heather gladly accepted.