The Third

I

"How the fuck did I manage to pull this off?" I ask myself in disbelief. Looking around, I see the main quad of UCLA teeming with life as the new students collect their luggage and begin to move into their quaint dorm rooms. The abundance of agreements and paperwork that it had taken me to get here was all worth it in that moment; I have a clean slate, a chance to be someone better.

With bags thrown over my arms and shoulders, I cross campus slowly. "You need a hand?" Someone asks me to my right, chuckling.

"Oh, uh, yeah, thanks," I reply, making my vowels sound harsh and strong.

"What dorm are you in?" He chuckles, grabbing a duffle from my hand.

"Sullivan?" I reply, unsure of myself.

"Ah, alright. Follow me," he smiles, his voice thick with a southern accent. "So you're a freshman this year?"

"Yeah... I'm a little nervous," I answer honestly. The R comes out a little soft as I speak, giving away how anxious I truly am.

"Well you can breathe easy," He chuckles. "UCLA is a great place. I was just as nervous as you when I started here last year. I'm Chris, by the way. Do I get to learn your name?" He asks, smirking at me as he opens the door for me. "My lady," He chuckles.

"Why thank you," I giggle, trying to curtsy. The bags, however, restricted my movements. "I'm," I start, pausing for a moment. Don't say Annalise. "I'm AJ."

"Does AJ stand for something?" He asks following me down the second floor hallways. Stopping in front of the room number 221, I turn to Chris and smirk.

"It does."

"And that would be?" I wink at him before opening the door. Turning away from his tall stature to look at my dorm room for the year, I find it nearly impossible to suppress a groan. Most of the room is filled with the little trinkets and items that I can only assume belong to my roommate. The only places untouched were a bed, desk, and chair. Both closets were filled with skimpy clothing that seemed to be as big as wash cloths. I'll take the floor of Ace's mum's flat, please.

"You've got to be fockin' kidding me," I groan, listening to the warm sound of Chris' laugh. "Thank you for the help, Chris," I smile, turning to look at him once more. Now relieved of the weight of my bags, I take time to look over his sculpted features. His sandy brown hair lies on his head in a shaggy, messed up state, neither too long or too short. His crystal blue eyes stare at me intently, looking as clear as the Essex sky after a rainstorm. His nose sits squarely in the middle of his face, and his angular jawline makes his otherwise round face more defined and sharp.

"I'll see you around, AJ," He grins, stepping out of the room.

"I hope so," I mutter after he has begun to walk away, his back only partially in my line of sight. An ear piercing squeal shatters the serenity of the quiet hallway.

"Liza! Liza, did you see that guy?" The girl squeals again. I laugh, shaking my head at their stereotypical girlish tendencies. Scanning the room, I see a phone unlocked on the bare desk, one to a new contact. Smooth, southern boy. As I am wrapping my fingers around the black iPhone, two girls burst into the room. They're both brunettes with tan skin and brown eyes; identical twins with no doubt. I myself had more of a thing for fraternal twins, like Chaz and I.

"So this is you roommate," One retorts.

"AJ," I state unamusedly.

"Paige," The other tells me with a disgusted look. Her voice rings in the same, strangely high pitch as the girl from the hallway... Figures. It takes less than a moment for me to realize that she is analyzing and becoming repulsed by my clothing choice: a baggy t-shirt, jean shorts, and low rise converse. I tease my hair distractedly as Paige rolls her eyes. The girl who I assume is "Liza" follows her sister like bitch on a leash.

When someone comes to knock on the door, I'm glad to step away from Paige and her sister, even if only for a few moments. As I see the person on the other side, I let out a sigh. "That relieved to see me?" Chris chuckles. "C'mon AJ, it's only been a few minutes." I can't help the small smile that slides across my face for a few seconds as I roll my eyes at him.

"Sorry, who are you again?" I tease.

"You, little missy, need to learn some southern hospitality," He notes.

"Oh yeah? Try and teach me then," I retort in humor.

"Well first," He starts, stepping very close to me, "you would let me in." I open the door wider, giving him space to step through. "Thank you," He bows.

"Why'd you come back so soon? Already miss me?" I lean against the heavy wooden door.

"I left my phone," He retorts with a casual laugh, stepping over to my desk and hold it up, nearly frowning when he sees the empty contact. Paige and her sister gawk at the sight of him. "Oh. You must be AJ's roommates."

"Hi," Paige says, jumping off the bed a little too excitedly, walking until she is nearly chest to chest with Chris. She bats her eyelashes excessively and says, "My name's Paige."

"Uh... Hi... Paige..." He says awkwardly, looking anywhere but at her before taking a couple of paces backwards.

"Your phone, southern boy," I remind him, picking the phone back up and prodding him with it before quickly typing in my name and new number.

"Thank you," he grins. "I'll be sure to put it to good use." He towers over me, so close that I can feel the rise and fall of each of his rhythmic breaths. I advance, taking a step and nearly placing my body flush against his. As he quirks his eyebrow, I swing the door open and give him a playful push. "Now that wasn't very southern at all!"

"Oh, but I'm not from the south," I counter.

"Then where are you from?" He counters.

"Try using that number, and maybe you'll find out." He chuckles lightly.

"Well played. I'll see you around, AJ."

"That part's up to you."

"Then I'll make sure of it," He says with a sense of finality, stepping out of my sight moments later.

"How do you know a guy like that?" Paige asks rudely, seeming somewhat surprised as I ignore her and continue to unpack the bags that contain my entire life... Or, I suppose simply the aspects of my life that I wish to remember. It all ends up as a cluster fuck on top of my bed.

"Can you take your shit out of my shit?" I ask aggressively, swinging open the closet drawer beside my bed to show the full closet of half clothes.

"W-Why?" She half stutters before gaining back her bitchy, cocky arrogance. "I was here first, anyways. You can't make me do anything about it unless I want to." How about I throw every last piece of this bullshit out of the dresser? It's what Chaz did to me, and I have no problem continuing the streak.

"You're not intimidating," I retort, raising my eyebrow expectantly. "In fact, you're solely irritating. And yes, I'm a cunt. But at least I'm not a narcissistic bitch as well." I continue to unpack as if I haven't said anything, knowing well enough that if she doesn't move her shit, I'll do it for her.

My veins begin to throb with need, each pump of my heart sending a new wave or craving and a stronger sense of mental instability to my mind. My skin feels as if I am being burned alive, each hair follicle singeing. The little patience I have left dissipates to near extinction as every thought is cluttered with the jarring thoughts of how what I once had in such abundance had become as barren as a wasteland.

My impulses tell me to run out that door and say "fuck it." They tell me to find the nearest corner and spend every last dime on opiates.

But my logic tells me no. My impulses have controlled me for the last five years. But I want a better life... I want to be clean and not have a ball and chain around my ankle. I want freedom, freedom from ever last part of London that has held me down. I knew how fucking hard this was going to be. I knew my senses would be on edge, and my attitude more bitchy than Harry had ever seen. I couldn't give up at the first hint of craving, at the first need for something I knew I couldn't need anymore. I need to be strong - strong like Chaz was.

You want a new life? You want a better one? I ask myself.

Then fucking prove it.