Watercolors (A Brushstrokes Sequel)

Week 1

The first weekend after the first week of college is undoubtedly the biggest deal for us. Eddie calls every day, to tell me about the lessons he's attending, and the excitement he is surrounded with on a daily basis. Yale, despite its prestigious and well-deserved reputation, still has the fair share of foolish young adults as every other university in the country. It's nice to hear, though. I mean, if I'm not laughing at the stupidity of others, what's the point of them even being stupid?

I don't have school envy, though. In fact, I'm attending a party tomorrow night. Planning on impressing everyone with my impeccable sense of humour.

But today, we're meeting in a small town with nothing going for it - simply because, it's directly halfway between our two schools. Everyone says shit about long distance relationships, it's this big mistake, but maybe we're just more mature than them. After all, I'm a fucking grown up.

Mike's coming along, and apparently so is Eddie's roommate, who I haven't actually heard anything about yet.

"You're quiet," Mike points out. "I didn't know you could do that."

"Oh, shut up!"

I'm driving - despite my not-so-spotless record. Mike hates Boston driving, and I don't blame him.

"What's his roommate's name?" Mike asks out of curiosity.

"Ben. Architect major."

Mike nods and fiddles with the radio before music comes blaring out from his phone. It's some rock band I've never listened to before, but he does air guitar with his fingers, which I can't help but laugh at.

"Right here in the flesh, we got the unstoppable, incredible, wondrous talent that is Mike Hanlon. Some may say he's just a big history nerd, but little do they know, he's a full on rockstar!" Of course, it's a news reporter voice. I'm not new to voices.

"I'm not a nerd," he argues. "I'm just not an idiot like you."

"Folks," I say to no one in particular, perhaps the reporter's imaginary audience. "Looks like I've been properly burned."

The smile fades from Mike's face for some reason, but neither of us can dwell on that for long when I pull into the parking lot of a cute little diner. "I think we might be the youngest people to ever stop here," Mike said as he observes the aged exterior of the place. It certainly isn't trying to conform with any standards. But I think the place is cute.

Five minutes later, another car pulls into the parking lot, and I see my boyfriend waving from the window, with that ridiculous dorky smile that he always says he doesn't do.

As soon as the car stops he hops out and runs to me, wrapping his arms around me. This boy! He's just so damn perfect.

"Eds, you're so dramatic, it's only been a week," I tease. "Oh, and now I have a weeks worth of jokes to unload on you." Before I can even give him just a sampling, he looks over my shoulder at Mike and lets go to shake his hand.

"It's nice to meet you," Eddie speaks politely. "I'm Richie's boyfriend."

Mike smiles. "And you seem so normal to be dating someone so wild!"

They laugh, before Ben finally shuts the door to his car and joins us. I've never met him before, but that smile on his face is too friendly to not immediately want him in my company. "Which one of you is Richie? Who's Michael?"

"Mike." They shake hands as well. Am I supposed to shake a hand? Pretend to be some adult? Nah... that ain't me. I take Eddie's hand and we head inside the restaurant, together.

"You gettin' pancakes again?" I ask him.

He nods with nothing but excitement. "It's been a long week, this is the best thing that could've happened!"

I know what he means, too... it has been a long week, after all. Five days in and I've already been kicked out of a class for "disruptive behavior". But I can do college. Eddie's doing fucking Yale, Ivy League, the least I. An do is college.

"I feel bad for you, Mike," Eddie giggles playfully as we sit. "Stuck with Rich? Who'd you piss off to earn that punishment?"

"I don't know," Ben pointed out. "His roommate isn't a hypochondriac."

"I'm not a hypochondriac!" Eddie retorts, not really angry but very much energetic. "I simply said shower shoes aren't enough."

"What do you mean?" Ben asks, although now he's more confused than anything.

"What do you use?" Mike adds.

There's a pause, as Eddie seems to debate on if he's going to actually say it out loud. But then he does, and it's the answers to all my prayers. "Ziploc bags."

The laughs that follow are the loudest I've heard in what feels like forever. All of us laughing until we run out of breath, as Eddie continues attempting to make excuses for his strange decision.

"Oh and we're still settling on me being the crazy one?" I cackle, watching as Eddie's face turns pink in embarrassment.

"Yes!"

————

By the time we get back to our room, Mike's tired enough to go straight to bed. I let him do so, grab my jacket, and go for a walk across campus.

It's Saturday, meaning as I meander my way through the paths and walkways of campus, I encounter drunk students who lost their footing and horny straight couples that make the fact that they're in love everybody's business.

I don't understand the cause of my sour attitude, but it's enough to make everything I see something to be annoyed with.

I think I miss Eddie, which is ridiculous, because right about now he's probably having the time of his life somewhere away from me. With his Ivy League education and his endless brains.

I am stopped by a guy from one of my classes, although I can't recall his name now, I nod in his direction before he speaks.

"Are you going to the party?" He asks, gesturing to a dorm hall behind him. The windows reveal lights of all different colors inside.

For a moment I prepare myself to refuse, but then I actually consider it and want to laugh. What's the point in not going? I mean, I'm pathetically lonely and inarguably overreacting. The perfect solution is a group of horny teenagers cosplaying as functioning adults.

"Why the fuck not?" I laugh, and follow him. I realize why he asked in the first place - he didn't want to go alone. It's understandable.

As I enter the party, I prepare myself - I put on a mask of sorts, so that my truth is hidden beneath. "Now this is a party, motherfuckers!"