Taking The Chance [A Niall Horan Fanfiction]

// Chapter Eight //

I stared at Liam aka the son of Dean Payne incredulously; this must have frightened him because he let go once he made eye contact with me. I should’ve seen that coming. No one in their right mind would want to direct new kids to their dormitories; normal teenagers would want to use this time to catch up with old friends they haven’t seen since summer holiday started, make friends, flirt with the girls down the hall, or tease the new kids… anything but help. Whether he was forced to do this or not, it was still a terrible duty to be stuck with.

“Sorry,” I muttered with a nervous giggle. “So, fourth floor you said?” I instantly changed the subject so both of us wouldn’t feel any more discomfort.

“Yup. Just take this wooden staircase all the way up, then turn left once you pass through the arched wooden doors.” He replied, nodding excitedly like an overactive puppy. Maybe he did want to do this job.

“Thanks,” I replied. I headed towards the first step before pausing suddenly. “Wait, is there an elevator?”

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth turned down. “Sorry, Mara, there’s no elevator.”

I stared at my heavy rolling luggage in horror. “So I have to carry this all the way up there?” I pointed at the top of the staircase.

He nodded, eyes filling with pity. “Unfortunately. I’m truly sorry. I would help you, but I can’t.”

“Why not?” I tilted my head to the side, confused.

“The third and fourth floors house the female students, and males aren’t allowed up there.” He stated almost robotically from memory.

I feel bad for him. Having the Dean as his mom, she’s probably been spoon-feeding him all the rules of Mullingchire since he was applying for the school. “Males probably sneak up there all the time, though, don’t you think?”

He’s been brainwashed.

He shrugged. “Probably, but I don’t like to break the rules. It’s really bad for me if I do, because you know….” He trailed off.

So maybe Liam wasn’t brainwashed, but I understood what he meant. He must get triple detentions… well, if he gets caught anyways. “Yeah, I get it. Well, here goes nothing.”

I lifted my luggage up the first couple of steps before pausing to take a break. Liam chuckled in amusement and I glared back at him. “Okay, okay. I’ll back away. Actually, I think I heard my mum calling me from down the corridor. I’ll just see you later, Mara!” He pointed at the line of students and started to walk towards them, only the Dean didn’t really call him.

He pretended to hear his name being called and ran away to save my pride. How sweet!

After a gruesome fifteen minutes—yes, I am an incredibly weak girl—I made it up to the fourth floor, only breaking a slight sweat and panting lightly. At the top of the staircase, I sat on my luggage, giving myself a little break. The returning students only stared at me as they passed me on the staircase getting to their floor; they knew to pack light, only carrying a backpack or a duffel bag. Why didn’t anyone give me the memo to not overpack?

Sighing, I finally regained normal respiration and cooled down and dragged my luggage, duffel bag, and backpack through the majestic arched wooden doors and turned left into a thinner hallway in which the rooms branched off of. The walls were an elegant off-white color and each room had solid wooden doors that match the other doors on campus. The same wooden planks continued throughout the hall, covered by a long, forest green rug with a gold outline.

When I finally reached room 415, conveniently located at the very end of the hallway (okay, almost at the end of the hallway) right by the emergency exit. I gazed deep in thought at our door as I reached into my pocket for my key. All this time I’ve been worried about if my roommate would take all of the closet space, and I never considered how well we would get along. I guess we’d get off to a bad start if she did take all the closet space…. Plus, I was late; she could possibly be a stickler and hate me because of my tardiness. That isn’t the best way to start a friendship.

Throwing my worries away and inhaling deeply, I inserted the key into the lock, unlocked the door, turned the knob, and slowly opened the door. It creaked loudly, instantly blowing my cover for a hopefully quiet entrance. I groaned inwardly, forcing my bags and myself through the door. When I was finally situated in the room, I got my chance to look at where I’d be living for the next school term.

You know, those pamphlets Mullingchire sent to us were really misleading. The pictures of the rooms on the pamphlet and online made the room look like it’d be a prison cell. The room looked like a room off Home and Gardens TV, or off a Pottery Barn catalogue. Did I really expect a school with rocket-high tuition prices and the title of (one of) the most prestigious boarding school in the United Kingdom to have crappy dormitories?

The walls were a warm beige color, similar to the shade of sugar cookies. The wooden planks that were in the lobby and continued in the halls of the dormitory halls stopped at the room, and were exchanged with dusky brown plush carpet. A giant, iron-paneled window first grabbed my attention, taking up the whole top half of the farthest wall. It let in multitudes of sunlight; enough to wake up a heavy sleeper once the sun has fully risen. Under the window, two twin beds (which seemed larger than usual twin beds) with dark wood headboards and fluffy mattresses were pushed against the same wall in opposite corners of the room. In between the beds were two marble dressers for storage. At the foot of each bed against the wall was a matching wooden desk, already equipped with fluorescent lamps and brown mesh swivel chairs, a modern touch to an otherwise old school and elegant room. The closet with the same wooden sliding doors took up the rest of the space between the door and opposite corner of the room. Even though all this furniture was in the room, it was still spacious enough for my roommate and I to do some yoga or pilates without cramming ourselves in the space between our beds.

Speaking of my roommate, I finally also had a chance to see who she was. She was tall and skinny, possessing the build of a model. Musky, wavy brown hair rested atop of her head, flowing gracefully down her back. Her back was facing away from me when I entered the room, placing things in the drawers of the dresser—she’s claimed the right side, which was closest to the door—but turned to look at me when she heard the door close behind me. She had a fairly large nose, but delicate pink lips and cute brown eyes to balance her face. She was dressed stylishly in a white flowing long-sleeved top, blue denim skinny jeans, and white flip-flops. “Good afternoon!” She greeted cheerfully in a flawless English accent, her top row of teeth showing in a perfect smile.

Geez, was everyone in the United Kingdom gorgeous?

“Hi,” I replied shyly, hiding my hands in my hoodie. “Sorry I’m late. I missed my train back in Paris.”

“It’s no problem at all!” She walked towards me and grabbed my duffel bag from my shoulder, carrying it over to the left side of the room. She was pretty and helpful? I’m almost positive she’s the perfect human being. “You’re lucky they had a next train! I once had to wait three hours for a train because I missed mine, and those three hours were terrible.” I followed her, setting down my rolling luggage and backpack on the floor next to my bed. “The Dean probably wasn’t happy about your tardiness?” I shook my head, unable to think of something to say without sounding nervous. “I’m glad you made it, though! Well, first, I hope you don’t mind that I took the right side. I figured it would be more cozy on the side farthest from the room, since you’re a foreign student,” she commented, taking note of my American accent. “And don’t worry about the closet situation. I thought it wouldn’t be fair to you if I just stuffed it with my clothes. So I separated it exactly down the middle. Your side is on the right and mine is on the left.”

Yeah, she’s definitely the perfect human being.

“Oh, but where are my manners?” She continued to ramble. “I don’t usually ramble like this, especially to someone I’ve just met, but I’ve been waiting to see who my roommate would be the whole morning!”

I smiled at her bubbly personality. “Sorry for my lack of rambling,” I said less anxiously. “I’ve been dreading meeting my roommate because I was scared she was going to hate me… or take all the closet space.” She laughed at this, and I giggled with her. I felt more comfortable with her already, and I’ve only met her mere minutes ago. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Mara.”

I held out my hand for a friendly handshake, but she enveloped me into a small hug instead. “It’s nice to meet you too,” she replied, releasing her grasp around me and shook my hand ecstatically. “My name is Eleanor.”