My Guardian Angel.

1. ☯

Currently, I'm 18 years old. My name is Matt Simmons, and I just graduated high-school. I got accepted into college, and I'm having to move away from my home. I lived in Maryland for the entirety of my life, when honestly I've wanted to leave this place ever since I was 3 years old. I hopped pairs of parents left and right after my parents decided to abandon me for living a life like they're still teenagers, maybe they should've worn a fucking condom. Maybe dad shouldn't have been fucking a 16-year-old when he was 19. 

But besides that, I'd usually camp at some of my friend's houses, or simply out on the streets. I didn't want to be at my house, mostly for the part that I always ended up towards abusive houses. What would happen if my roommate and I completely despised each other? How can you even live with someone who despises you? Because honestly, that seems extremely difficult. 
I turned off my phone and lowered my headphones, looking out the small window beside me. I was squished by a 45-year-old fat man that didn't know how to wipe his sweat with the number of napkins he didn't use. Flight attendants constantly shoving peanuts in my face, as each one didn't fucking understand that I was allergic. I shooed them away but it seemed like they had a closet full of them or some shit, because every time there would be a new one offering me a new type of fucking peanuts. 
The beautiful state of California is ruined by a fat man and peanuts already, while I'm already stressing about my roommate. I am extremely awkward around girls, so I don't know if a girl roommate could work out for me. 
I had a car destined to come pick me up in about 10 minutes from now because I requested for it to come get me near the ending of the plane ride, even though I had barely any money to spare, I wasn't interested in walking the entire way. I smiled slightly as all of my friends spammed me with what we could have fun with, but I had to slightly crush their dreams with 'I still go to college, you know.' 
They didn't seem entirely happy about that message, but if I didn't tell them they probably would've made me fail college. Staring into the California sky, a high-pitched beep snapped me out of my daydream. The driver looked towards me, leaning their elbow on the wheel. "Am I picking you up?" He asked, obviously sick of his minimum paid job by his facial expression. I nodded, "Yeah." I opened the back door and it threw me back slightly, causing me to tumble in from embarrassment. He made sure that Stanford University was the place to bring me and genuinely told me he was impressed that I was one of the 5 out of 100 to get accepted. 
I nodded, but Stanford was just a way to pass by my time. 
'But Matt, Stanford is so hard to get in, why would you just do it to pass your time?!' That's probably what people would ask me whenever I told them that, and all I'd reply with 'I don't know.' Because I don't, I don't know what made me think that I wouldn't drop out by the second year, and I don't know what made me think it was good to apply when I didn't even have the scholarship to afford any of it. 
After a long while of sitting there with the quiet radio playing, and ignoring it by putting in my earbuds, leaning against the window and looking at the beautiful trees that pass by me. Eventually, he looked back at me and nodded, as I clarified that I paid online. I got out of the car and looked around the big surrounding of Stanford. 
I walked into the big area as they were handing out dorm keys and areas to go with your last name, so I went to the area that had my last initial. An S. After some complications with speaking up and spelling out my name letter by letter, I got handed my key, 237. I quickly ran to my door, not wasting any time for her to tell me who my roommate was. I quickly shoved my key into the door and slammed the door open, a guy facing towards the window. He was laughing, his black hair shaking around with him. He turned around after hearing the door slam open, as he smiled towards me. 

"Oh, hey. I'm Adrian."