I reckon I was a fool for believing there was a place for me here. This darn fancy school. I felt like the whole school was laughing at me as I rushed back to my room. I kept my head low so they couldn't see the tears in my eyes.
That's when the door burst open and there he was. We ain't formally met yet, but I reckon it was my roommate. He was disheveled and rugged, in a sleepless way. With dark circles under his eyes, and messy hair. His dark exterior dropped the moment we made eye contact.
"I think you're a genius!" He proclaimed. My face burned hot, was he making fun of me? I reckon.
"What are you on about mister?" I asked, trying to sound tough.
"Your theory about the universe being a hologram," he said.
"You, you heard about that?" I stammered.
"Well yeah! I was in that class, you had me on the edge of my seat! Those jerks don't know what they're talking about!" He smiled.
"Hey what are you doing?" He asked, his eyes darting to the suitcase open on the floor.
"I was," I paused at the finality of my words, "leaving,". His face hardened a little, but his voice was still kind.
"That's crazy! Why?" He pressed. He closed the door gently, then closed the space between us. He was at my eye level, and what not, his dark eyes were serious. My heart raced as this magnetic force loomed over me, with a kindness I have rarely known. It's unlike me to be so honest with my feelings, but I reckon it was safe with him.
"I don't fit in here. I was a freak back home, and it turns out I'm a freak here too," I sighed.
"How are you a freak?" He asked, like he didn't know. A smart talking hillbilly.
"Where I come from there ain't no science, there's just God. You think this is the first time I've been laughed out of a room?" I admitted. His face stayed stoic but he placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently.
"I know about freaks," he said, "and I know about God,". He raised his hands to me, and I'll be darned if he didn't have 6 fingers on each hand.
He helped me unpack my bags, and got to introducing himself. Stanford Pines. He wasn't too fond of offering up personal details but I made my assumptions. He had a tough accent, and a tough way of talking that made him seem more, well, tough. I reckon he was a lot kinder than he lead on. He was quiet and reserved, not really talking to me on his own, but if I were to say anything he'd always make sure to reply.
We stayed up all night trying to prove my theory.
After hours of solving equations and cross referencing we were in need of a break. We went to this all night diner just off campus. All he got was a coffee that he topped off with something in his flask.
We sat laughing about our weird hometowns, and how exciting it was to have escaped them. Ford wasn't as honest about his hatred for the place. I could hear in his voice, small trembles, and subtle regret. He secretly missed it, I reckon. I also reckon it wasn't none of my business so I didn't interrogate the fellow.
I overheard the next booth over making fun of me.
"I reckon the universe is a hologram!" One laughed.
"The end is near!" Another laughed. They made fun of my thick southern accent. They made more jokes about Ford and I being on a date, and called us freaks. My face felt hot again, I tried to make myself as small as possible. Ford looked at me, and his eyes went dark. He looked fearsome and awe inspiring, like you wouldn't want to be on the other end of that barrel. I watched as he marched over and grabbed one of them by the shirt collar. He pulled him straight across the table and gave him a 6 fingered knuckle sandwich. Everyone stood still, and fell silent. Finally his friends processed they were under attack and retaliated. I reckon I'd never been in a fight, but I couldn't do nothing as the group closed in on Ford. I grabbed the cup of hot coffee and smacked one of the jerks in the back of the head. I felt awfully terrible about the mess we were making.
The waitress yelled she was calling the cops. Ford looked back at me, his face scratched, nose bleeding, and a bruise started to form right under the eye. Chaos was erupting behind him in slow motion, but he was just looking at me. He grabbed my hand and we ran into the night. Safely tucked away in some back alley while they screamed for us, we huffed, sweaty and out of breath. Ford busted out laughing.
"Golly," I exclaimed.
"Are you alright?" He asked, grabbing my face to examine it.
"Don't worry about me!" I blushed, pulling away from him.
"Sorry for causing a scene," he apologized, "but I don't like when people pick on my friends,".
I stood there, blood rushed to my head and I felt the pulsating through my whole body. My friend.
"Do you smoke?" He asked, pulling a pack of lucky strikes out of his jacket, and ending the silence. He popped one in his mouth.
"Just chew," I replied, licking my lips to reveal the bit of tobacco. I spat it out right on the floor. I immediately turned red, gosh darn it Fiddleford you can't go around spitting everywhere.
"Like cowboys," Ford said approvingly, "very cool,". I blushed. He used his teeth to strike a match and we lit up in reds and oranges. Just for a moment, there was a glow in his eyes. He took a long drag, and passed it to me. I inhaled but I must've done it wrong. I started coughing like a coal miner. He put his hand on my back as I coughed my lungs out.
"Watch me," he said. I followed the cigarette to his mouth and watched his chest rise softly and then quickly a second time. It happened so quick I almost missed it.
"Like this?" I pulled the smoke into my mouth, and then my lungs.
"Perfect," he smiled.
Later that night, or you could call it early morning, I was alone with my thoughts. I opened the window and let the wind blow in. I think there is a place for me here. I looked to Stanford, who looked so content in his sleep. I reckon there is.
