Snapdragon

© 2021 by Ireland Rea. All rights reserved.

My freshly blow dried hair hung around my shoulders, wiping my hands on my new skinny jeans I thrifted. Instead of placing my hand in front of me clutched, I chose to hold my hands behind my back. Hoping to hide my nervousness with assertiveness. Which is what Maliq told me on the phone this morning.

There were four renowned judges that would be hosting, the dean. Who of course greeted me as if we weren’t strangers since we had a few encounters previously. His personality was slightly annoying. In everyone’s face. A little obnoxious in his delivery.

The second was Michele Hill. This was one of our first encounters. Only hearing about her through the grapevine and maybe briefly in the college pamphlet. Her great grandfathers father created this college. He was a renowned painter; some of his paintings I even studied in middle school once.