While waiting, my phone vibrates with an incoming text.
Amelia:Hope you are doing well wherever you are! Trent’s been all over town asking if anyone has seen you. He saw me getting groceries and asked me too. I told him you left to be a burlesque dancer in Vegas. He was NOT happy. Also, if you really did become a burlesque dancer, I am so sorry for blowing your cover!
Me:LOL! Thanks for the heads-up. I am definitely not dancing in Vegas, but I appreciate that you think I have those skills. Miss you!
Amelia:Miss you too
The sound of heels on the tile floor pulls my attention away from my phone. A tall middle-aged woman in a black pencil skirt and white button-up blouse heads towards me.
“Dr. Winters?” she asks as she approaches.
“Dr. Conway.” I stand to greet her. “It’s so nice to meet you in person.”
“Same here, and you can call me Eliza.”
“And you can call me Aly or Alyssa.”
Eliza leads me to the back office where a mountain of new hire paperwork waits for me. “First and foremost, we need to get your ID, then I will show you to your office where you can fill out your paperwork.”
“Sounds great!” I follow her to an adjacent office.
“Martha.” Eliza looks at a gray-haired woman behind the desk. “This is Dr. Alyssa Winters, our new hire. Could you please get her set up with an ID?”
“No problem!” Martha replies. She hands me a stack of papers. “This is the form we need for your information to be on our website.”
“Website?” I hesitate.
“Yes, all of our faculty are listed with their picture and credentials. You know, the basic stuff—what type of degrees you have, that kind of thing.”
“Umm…” I bite my lower lip. I’ve uprooted my entire life to move across the country and in a mere few days, it might not even matter. “Is it necessary to add my information to the website? It’s just that I have someone in my life that umm…well, I’d rather he not know where I am.”
“You can check the box on the photo release form that says you don’t want to have your picture published,” Eliza states, sensing my discomfort. I’m grateful she doesn’t press me for any more information.
“I’m also concerned about my name being published.”This isn’t going to work. Why did I think this was going to work?
“You don’t have to use your real name. Many professors choose to go by different names for privacy purposes and other reasons,” Martha suggests.
“Exactly,” Eliza agrees. “Conway is my maiden name. I got married five years ago, but I was so used to Conway, I didn’t want to change it.”
“Okay, I guess I can do that.” My nerves begin to calm.
“I do need you to give me a name today, so I can get all of this done.” Martha shuffles a pile of paper. “And please do not choose Jones or Smith; we have too many of those. I can’t tell you how many times students have signed up for the wrong class because they chose the wrong professor.”
“Gotcha.” I nod. I have zero attachment to my last name, so the thought of changing it doesn’t bother me, but what do I want my last name to be? My first instinct is to change it to Monroeor Gray; those are Jess and Jacob’s last names. As crazy as my ex is, he isn’t an idiot. He would think to look me up under those names. I still can’t believe I’m living through this ridiculous situation.
I look at the form Martha handed me and write down the only other name that means something to me. It's also something my ex won’t know. I never talked about my childhood much. Maybe it will bring me luck.God, I hope this works.
10
Jax
“Am I here to meet the new girl or what?” I complain aloud to no one in particular. Michelle finally cornered me in the hall and proceeded to give me a speech on my shitty manners and how I should’ve met her new roommate by now. I help myself to a beer from the girls’ fridge. I hope this night won’t last too long. Maybe I can make an excuse to leave right after dinner. I still have to eat, of course.
“I just got a text from her. She’s on her way.” Michelle sets a large bowl of spaghetti on the table.
“Hey!” Gabby walks out of her bedroom. “Aly isn’t here yet?”
“She’s on her way,” Michelle, Carter, and Alex say in unison. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. Why am I suddenly feeling so anxious?