I woke up and I forgot where I was for a minute. I mean, I was laying in a very poorly made bed, in a room that I didn't recognize. Not to mention there was a guy hovering over me like he'd never seen a sleeping girl before. He was standing in his plaid boxers and a gray undershirt, watching me carefully. And I was pretty sure it wasn't my amazing looks at eight in the morning that he was staring at.
I sat up and flicked my hair from my face and eyes. If I didn't, I would be covered in a thick, dark sheet and wouldn't be able to see my…hover-ers lovely face. He was my age, maybe a little older, but not my much. Sixteen at the oldest. He was really tall, even while he was standing and I was laying in bed. As in, he was probably pushing six feet. I was barely 5'3". Talk about intimidating. He looked just as crazy as any sixteen year old guy that woke up to find a girl he didn't know in his room. His caramel hair was messed up and sticking up in a bunch of different directions, like he just woke up and he probably did. He reminded me of a guy I went to school with before all this happened. But their eyes were different. This guys eyes were a soft, warm glowing brown. They spread warmth with one look, instead of with the one I knew from school, who could spread stupidity.
I sat up a little bit and balanced back on my elbows. I knew I looked like shit, being it was too early in the morning, but I didn't really care. I was adorable and I used it to my advantage. But I could also be scary calm, and it freaked just about anyone out. This guy included.
"Can I help you?" I asking, wincing. I always hated the sound of my voice.
"Uh…you're a girl," he said. His voice wasn't super deep like imagined it. And he sounded very, very confused at this entire situation.
"Thank you so much for pointing that out. Really, I had no idea. Yes, genius, I'm a chick."
He looked at me and was just as confused as before. I thought that this…reclusive boarding school was filled with intelligent guys. Not brainless ones. Kind of went against everything I guessed. Then again, never judge a book by its cover. Or, apparently, a guy by his red plaid boxers…
"But…I'm s'posed to have a roommate named Austin…" he said. I can't even come up with an analogy to compare him to something. That's how confused he was. Talk about bad.
I raised my hand and waved at his slowly. I held out the same hand for him to shake, but when he didn't take it, I regained my balance and fell back on that elbow too.
"That's me," I said. "Austin Somers. Nice to meet cha. Can I go back to sleep?"
It wasn't exactly a question I wanted an answer to. I rolled over and pulled the blankets closer around me, not because I was cold, but I really didn't want some guy staring at me while I slept. Even Ricky didn't get that. He liked to stare at me a lot when we were hanging out together, but even that was all the more he got. All of this? Yeah. All of mine.
My very confused roommate went back to bed and followed my example. I was glad, but I didn't really want to sleep anymore. I was weird that way. If I didn't get enough sleep for a few days in a row, then I didn't want to sleep more. My body adapted to less sleep and that's how I would work. No sleep and a ton of caffeinated drinks. So, I was getting too used to zero sleep. And I didn't want to go back to sleep again. In fact, after a plane ride from Boston, all the way to Colorado, I wanted a very long, hot shower.
I laid in my messed up bed, laying on my side and facing a wall. My pillow was bunched up under my head and I thought I felt a knot in my neck. Ow. I stared into space, until I heard soft little puffs of sleeping breath coming from my roomie, and even softer snoring. I got up and padded o the bathroom we shared, planning on taking my shower and hoping the guy wasn't a light sleeper. Though it didn't seem like it.
I pulled off my "pajamas" and…I'd love to say I neatly folded them and left them on the floor for later, but I didn't. I threw them down in a pile, in the order I stripped them off. I ran my fingers through my hair so I wouldn't be so hard to brush out later, when my hair was wet. Then I stepped into the shower. It was way to hot, at first and I turned it down before it burned me. I still kept it really warm, and I started glowing red, like I was sun-burned. But this felt way better than a burn.
I stood, with my arms crossed and head down, for a while. My hair was immediately soaked, and hung in my face, leaving me more or less in the dark. It felt heavy on my neck, but I guessed I should have been used to that. So I ignored the ache in pretty much all of my joints from Josh hitting me as much as I hit him. My bruises still throbbed in time with my heart, and it was a little weird. The hot water ran over my shoulders and down the rest of my body. I still felt a little cold, but I was always the wrong temperature. Something I'd grown used to over the years, and almost learned to like. I felt an almost smile form on my lips as I remembered what this shower had reminded me of.
The summer before my freshman year, Sam and I went on vacation with her family. It we her parents, her little brother and his best friend, he and me. For a week. In one hotel room. It was a total blast. But the shower had been exactly like this one. Water that was almost soft to the touch, like a caressing feather, really warm, but not too hot, amazing water pressure. It was heavenly. Ironic, no? Heavenly momentary pleasure for the one going straight to hell.
I picked up my black shampoo bottle and washed my hair, reveling in the way in smelled and how if felt. I ran my fingers through my hair some more and little white and blue soap bubbles went down the drain. The blue was from my dye washing out from the six streaks of color I had hidden in my dark hair and had gotten re-dyed not long before.
Then, I went for my white conditioner bottle and attempted to get some out. I had plenty left, but it was stubborn and never wanted to leave the bottle and go into my palm, so I could in turn put it in my hair so I could actually have the ability to brush it. I finally got enough out and put it on the ends of my hair and my bangs because they were just as long as the rest of my hair.
While I waited for the conditioner that seemed freaking water proof to wash out, I washed my arms and neck with my soap that smelled like sweet berries and summer. Then, I was done waiting for my conditioner to wash out and turned off the water. I stepped put of the shower and took a white towel to dry myself off with before changing into my "pajamas" again. I put the towel in a basket of dirty ones and went back into the main part of the room. The guy was still sleeping soundly and I took my change to change into my jeans. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my pajamas like any other girl, but I need my jeans.
I pulled my favorite jeans from where I tossed them when I was unpacking. They were a little too big but I loved them. Medium wash, low-rise, flared at the bottom. The bottom's were torn up and bleached from walking on the ends. Like I mentioned, I'm short. The jeans I wear were meant for taller people. So I step on the ends. Not like I minded, because I actually liked it. So I took of my sweats and pulled my jeans on. From being a little too big, I put my silver, studded and black leather, belt around my waste. Then I pulled my tank top off and took two from my pile of clothes. One solid black on that went on first, then the other one, a black on with pin-prick silver dots all over it, went over that. I pulled them up so they covered my bra and were layered perfectly. Then my zip-up black hoodie went over it. I zipped it half-way up. I fixed my chocker, currently a piece of purple ribbon tied around my neck, because it was twisted.
Then I didn't really know what to do. It was maybe nine in the morning and I couldn't just wander around the school. It was kind of frowned upon, considering I was here more or less because they didn't want to send me to juvenile detention because hitting Josh was a lot of self defense. But, I was still in trouble. So, here I was. No wandering around for Austin… I didn't feel like starting up my laptop, because there wasn't a point. No social networking, like my Facebook and Myspace, for everyone no just me. Email was slow. YouTube wouldn't work. I could read an old story I wrote, or write more, but I didn't feel creative enough for either. My iPod was dead, and I had to smuggle it in. I didn't have a clue where my connecter cord was so I could charge it, even though I knew I brought it. I didn't have any books with me. I had my phone, but there wasn't a cell tower for…miles, so no signal, anywhere.
And that left me with what? Laying around till my roomie woke up? Well, unless I woke him up. But that would be kind of mean and I was trying to give up on my mean streak. Trying. Obviously, because I was here in the first place, it wasn't working too great for me. So…I could sit around? Woo. Oh yeah, sounds like a freaking blast. But, that's all I could do.
Or I could, ya know, freak out my roomie the same way he did to me. But that'd be mean. Damn. Why'd I have to promise not to be mean anymore? Made my life boring. So, I made my bed, a rarity no matter where I was. It took maybe five minutes because I suck at making beds and I'm perfectionist. Its either gotta be messy, if I made the mess so I knew where everything would be. Or it had to be totally spotless, when I put everything away so I would know where it would be. Bed making was the same. It needed to be perfect. So, I took my time (kinda) and made it the right way. Then, I more or less flopped onto the center of my bed, cross-legged, my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands.
I stared across the room at my roomie, who still looked unconscious. He was a heap of blankets and pillows, only the top of his scruffy head visible. Oh so very interesting. I just stared at him for good knows how long, probably not very though, because my attention span is very short. Then I glanced around our very plain room.
Our room was exceedingly boring for how much money it cost to come here. Plain, white walls, with a window that was big enough to bring in a lot of natural light, which was good. I hated lamps, but was totally in love with sunlight. So that was pretty nice. There was enough space for both of us to have our own little bubbles, with all of our stuff. Two dressers, two side tables, two desks. Each half of the room was mirrored and looked like the other. Except mine was already messy because most of my stuff was on the floor. His was…clean-ish. For a guy, he was organized, I guessed. School stuff was scattered on the floor, but he did have classes yesterday.
Well, that killed like two minutes. I sighed and in mid-sigh, I nose started to itch and I sneezed. It was high-pitched and like my friends back home all liked to point out, I sounded like a cat. My roommate groaned and it sounded kinky to me, but I was a pervert, so I could make just about anything dirty. He sat up and shook his head before opening his eyes. He didn't look super tired, but he had been sleeping for quite a while, I guessed. He stretched his arms into the hair and laced his fingers together over his head, yawning. He looked at me, and froze, like I was something about to pounce and attack him.
"Nice that you're away," I said, cocking my head to the side. Wet hair dripped into my face and I knew I probably looked like a drowning rat. So I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and my roomie stared at me.
"So…" he said awkwardly. "You're Austin?"
I smiled. "I believe I made that clear earlier. I am a chick named Austin."
"Well, uh, hi. I'm a guy named Zach."
"Again, nice to meet cha."
There was a partly awkward pause. I didn't think it was, but by reading Zach's face, I could tell he found it very uncomfortable. He watched me carefully still, paying careful attention to the black eye and other bruises you could see on my arms, and the scrapes covering my hands. I just watched back, head to the side, waiting for him to make the first move.
"How come you're…coming to school here?" he asked. He sounded curious, but cautious.
"The system saw 'Austin Somers' and didn't bother to check if I was a dude or a chick, so here I am." I shrugged, like it was no big deal. It was.
"This place is mostly trouble makers though. You look pretty innocent…even for a girl."
I snorted. "Not really. You don't even wonder why I'm covered in bruises?"
"I thought it was personal…" he sounded like he desperately wanted to know.
"It's a story. Not a personal thing."
He leaned forward until he was laying in his stomach, facing me from across the room. He pulled a pillow from under his feet and bunched it up under his chest.
"Story time?" he sounded like he was five.
"It's not long. Guy from school wouldn't stop harassing me and my friends and threw the first punch. I just hit harder." Another shrug. "His parents sued me for something I didn't pay attention to and the court found me guilty of assault. Everyone there knew it was purely self defense, yet here I am."
"Wait. A guy started beating on you?" Zach asked.
"Yeah."
"God. Asshole! You okay?"
"Fine," I answered bitterly. "He got it worse."
He paled. "What'd you do to him?!"
"Kicked him mostly. Punched him. Broke his nice. Nothing too major."
Zach laughed, like it was the funniest thing ever. "No, seriously."
I didn't say anything and let the fact I was dead serious sink in. I wasn't sure if it was the fact he just woke up or he just didn't believe me, but I didn't like being laughed at. Laughed with was fine. At, however, was not acceptable.
"How big was this guy?" he asked, serious again.
"Not much smaller than you."
"Uh…and you took him down by yourself?"
"Yipp. I did."
His mouth hung open and his eye rolled so his was looking at the ceiling. I had a feeling he was trying to wrap his mind around the whole concept. I gave him a second to make an intelligent thought.
"But…you're so…tiny…"
I gave him my failed version of a smirk. "That doesn't mean anything."
Zach stared at me still and it was getting pretty old. I mean at first, it didn't really bother me but now it was annoying. I was a good three or four inches shorter than my friends and most average girls. So what. Even for a girl, I was small. That didn't mean I couldn't hold my own in a fight. I had a wicked right-hook and a high pain threshold. A very good combination for me.
"Remind me not to piss you off…" Zach finally said.
"Will do. So, what'd there to do around here?"
He smiled devilishly, giving me the look I usually gave other people. I was beginning to like this kid more and more.
"I was wondering when you would ask," he said. "Let me show you the…joys…of campus life."
He got off his bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a clean tee shirt.
"And you're lucky. You're a cute girl on a campus of all guys. This'll be fun."
He shot me a very dangerous glance and my heart sped up. I wasn't quite sure if it was in a good way or not, but I was looking forward to the day.