The Fab Four

Chapter 2

   Hannah's alarm rang at seven that morning. It didn't matter; she was too nervous for her first day of college. She woke up at four with butterflies in her stomach. Her first class didn't even start until nine, but she was ready to go by six. Her bag was packed with several copies of the campus map and her schedule, both of which were also on her phone. She already had both her saxophone and tuba at school. Everything necessary to survive the first day (according to some older friends from high school) was already packed. She could do this.

   Turns out, she could do this. As a nervous wreck. She casually stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen. No, she wasn't drunk; she was reading another person's story about their first day of college on Facebook. Truth be told she couldn't care less; they were only friends for a year in middle school. Their painfully embarrassing or wonderful success story is what Hannah used as a guide for her first day. Ya know, as you do.

   Unsurprisingly, Beren was already in the kitchen making breakfast. Keeping in mind that he wanted to make food for one of the pickiest eaters on Earth, he went with a child-friendly dish: cinnamon rolls. He was spreading around the icing when Hannah walked in and sat at the table. "Morning," she whispered.

   "Morning," Beren replied. He grabbed a fork and served them both.

   Hannah had no appetite. She didn't normally eat breakfast, so trying to eat while butterflies are taking up space is more than a challenge.

   Beren put his mug of tea on the table. "Careful. Before you know it this'll be sophomore year all over again."

   Hannah shook her head. Before marching band that year, she was so nervous that she could barely eat Rice Krispies and fruit snacks before camp. She refused to let her anxiety get a hold of her like that again, so she took a bite of the food. With more encouragement and rational thought, she was able to eat four of them.

   "Don't forget that it's supposed to be me who's freaking out and you're supposed to be the excited one, not the other way around," Beren joked as they waited in the building elevator.

   Hannah managed a short laugh. "Just remember to talk to people. I didn't spend all those years in middle and high school prying you out of your shell for nothing."

   The elevator doors opened and they were on their way. It was eight in the morning and the streets were packed with businessmen and women. The strong smell of their coffees mixed in with the automobile fumes. Everywhere, the sound of people talking and shouting and car horns honking. Beren was afraid he'd never get used to it.

   They quickly hurried into the underground subway. Turns out, their commute was a close one. They rode the train together for ten blocks before Beren would get off on another train. After two more stops, so would Hannah. They managed to find one seat, which Hannah happily declared. A little old lady shuffled in right before the doors closed, though, and so Hannah gave up the seat.

   "Be sure to hold on so you don't go flying," Hannah said while she tried to reach for a handle. Stupid thing was right out of her grasp, even when standing on her the tippy toes. Why do these have to hang from the freaking ceiling? Where are the poles? Before she knew it, the train car lurched forward. Her bag hit the floor and skidded underneath an asleep old man, while she fell to the ground and slid right up against some college student's legs.

   Everyone in the car began to laugh at her except for the college student and the sleepers. Thanks, Beren. The college guy grabbed Hannah by the arms and helped her to her feet. "You must be new around here," he said in a thick Jersey accent. It took all of Hannah's willpower not to imitate him.

   "That obvious, huh?" She opted for instead. The new speed of the subway car meant that passengers could walk around if they wanted to. Beren gently pulled Hannah's bag out from underneath the old man and handed it back to her. "Thanks."