She hates Starbucks.

Headphones in, she collapses into an oversized brown leather chair. Her music is playing just loud enough for those nearby to get a listen. It is something upbeat.

She is polite and well dressed. She is a stranger sitting across from me.

Her name is Shannon Thorn. We meet for the first time at Starbucks.

She is typing away with no drink in sight. She is here only for the free WiFi.  She is friendly and approachable and willing to help me with my high school newspaper assignment.

She is in a navy blue sweater. She is 22. There is a locket attached to the thin gold chain on her wrist. She is home for the holidays; a college student down south.

She is currently balancing surviving life with mom and dad while studying medicine. The only good thing about being home is seeing her dog, Brody. She misses him dearly when she is away.

Born and raised in Florida, she has always loved the heat. It is too cold up here in Chicago. Her parents moved to the Windy City once her younger brother, Austin, left for the Air Force.

A picture of Nick, her boyfriend of two years, pops up on her phone. She answers the call and quickly explains she will call him right back with an “I love you” and a click.

Shannon has a smile full of big, white, teeth. Her hair is a rich brown that looks red when the light hits it. She is happy, she says. The next chapter of her life awaits her: adulthood.

Her jacket is red and phone case yellow. Her legs are crossed and arms folded softly. She is ambitious and warm. She is contagious and energetic.

Her name is Shannon, and she is here only for the free WiFi.