"Honey, hurry! God forbid you'll be late on the first day!" my mom singsongs up the stairs. I groan inwardly. I hate school, I always have. It just not something I care about. I pull myself out of bed with the excitement of someone going to their execution. I pull some clothes on, making sure to pick the right ones out. First day of college and I'll be damned if I don't make a good impression. As I brush my teeth, I stop to glance in the mirror. Blue eyes, light blonde hair with dark brown roots, a strong jaw and recently straightened teeth. I smirk, feeling good about how this year will go. Some soccer, some guitar, some girls, and a lot of booze.
My mom bursts into the room, yelling something about how I sleep like the dead and I take longer to get ready than she does. "Jesus! Calm down! I'm coming, dammit." I utter that last part, hoping she didn't hear me. She obviously does but thankfully doesn't feel the need to comment on it the morning I'm leaving for college. She draws herself up to her full height of 5'3", a good five inches shorter than me, yet still managing to look authorative and stern. "Listen to me, Niall James Horan. You are going to go to college and get the education you deserve. You are going to love it and not be an idiot and get kicked out," she stops here for a second as she breaks down and her eyes become huge blue pools of unshed tears. "I love you so much and I know I've been a bit harsh on you but after what happened to Greg, I just wanted to--" I stop her there and pull her to my chest. She gratefully clutches at my shirt, silently letting tears out.
"Mom, I know. I love you too. Don't think about Greg today, for me?" she looks up at me and kisses my head. "You've always been such a sweet boy, Niall. Meet some pretty girl and bring her home, okay? It'll make me so happy to see you in love again." Yeah right. I promised myself to never fall in love again, and I fully intend to keep my promise. To indulge my mother, though, I said, "Will do, Mom. I gotta go. Are you okay?" I ask gently, needing to get going, but afraid my mom is still an emotional wreck. She meekly nods and lets go of me. "Say goodbye to your father before you take off, okay?" she requests and I simply nod, annoyed that I have to talk to him.
I make my way to his study, knowing that's where he'll be, working. That's all he ever does these days, completely ignoring my mom and me. To say I have some Daddy Issues would be an understatement. "Hey, I'm leaving. So...yeah." I mumbled. He didn't acknowledge my presence for at least another two minutes. When he did, he seemed surprised to see me there, which massively annoyed me and I took deep, calming breaths. "Son, come here," I did so, reluctantly. He gripped my shoulders with both hands and looked into my eyes which are nearly identical to his. "Listen, and listen well. You are going to that college to get an education, not get drunk and screw girls. In high school you fucked around a lot, and that was high school. You were lucky to get into this school, and I'll be damned if I let you ruin it for yourself. I'm going to tell you what you're going to do. You're going to go to college, you're going to get a degree in law and become a lawyer and find some pretty face to keep you company for the rest of your life. Got it?" I want to recoil in disgust; I want to tell him to go fuck himself. Is that all my mom is to him? A pretty face? I am enraged, but I can't show it. The last time I yelled at my father was the last. I have the scars on my back to prove it. So I nod, standing completely still as my father looks into my eyes.
After what seems like millennia, he lets go of me and straightens his jacket, the malice in his eyes gone--for the moment. "That will be all son. Have fun at college." he turns back to his desk and seemed to forget I existed. I walk out quickly, afraid if I stay any longer, I'll say something I shouldn't. I would say something if my mother wasn't here. But since she is, and I'm not going to be here to take the blame, he'll transfer his "punishments" onto her. I've spent years protecting my mom; I won't stop now.
All my bags are already packed in my car, so I quickly grab my keys and say one last goodbye to my mom. She hasn't even tried to conceal her tears at this point, letting them make tracks down her cheeks and ruining her makeup. I wave feebly to her and get in my car. I take a deep breath, looking at my house one last time. Then I go.
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I pull into USC, feeling nervous for the first time. My stomach is in my throat and my hands are shaking. I slowly pull myself out of the car, taking my new home in. There are many kids out on the lawn already, done with moving in. I take duffle bags and head to my room. As I climb the stairs, every single possibility goes through my head. What if my roommate's a complete dick? What if I completely flunk out of my classes? What if I don't make any friends? All of the sudden it's way too much; the stairwell way too small. I lean against the wall for support, trying to calm down, knowing I can't let my panic attack get the best of me. I calm the beast inside of me, squelching my doubts and starting up the stairwell once more.
I put my new key into the lock, slowly turning, and taking many deep breaths. Finally, when I feel like an official creeper, standing out here staring at the door, I push it open really fast. And when I do, I get the surprise of my life. There, on the one of the bare mattresses, a dark skinned boy is making out heavily with a girl. Their shirts are off, and they were obviously starting to get to the good part, when I barged in. They jump up so high I'm afraid they'll hit their head on the ceiling. The girl, a pretty brunette, starts frantically putting her shirt on and scurries out of the room without so much as a glance towards me, a blush obviously taking over her whole face and neck.
I swing my head towards my apparent roommate, raising my eyebrows in approval. He wasn't looking at me though; he put his hands behind his head, and layed back so he was fully laying down on the bed, staying shirtless. He let out a long sigh. "Bro, what the fuck? I was this close to banging that girl." He puts his thumb and forefinger about a centimeter apart. "Well, excuse me." I say, already annoyed with this dude. "You're the one who can't keep their pants on the fucking first day." at this he sits up, narrowing his eyes dangerously at me.
"Don't even, douche. You don't know anything about me. So don't fucking act like you've got me all figured out. Keep your preppy ass self over there, and I'll stay over here, and we might just make it through this year." I can practically feel the hostility over from over here. I didn't think I was preppy; sure, I make an effort to not look like an invalid, unlike some people, I thought as I looked over at this new boy. He was still wearing no shirt, but he was wearing slightly ripped black skinny jeans and black boots that looked like they had been through a lot. He had a black quiff, and manicured black scruff all along his strong jaw. His hazel eyes looked to be constantly on alert. His face looked to be the only part of him that was carefully cultivated. Well, maybe not the only part, I thought as I looked over his chest, which was rock hard, with tattoos here and there.
"Hey, take a picture, it'll last longer, faggot." he sneers as he turns away. By this point I'm so pissed off I can't even properly form coherent sentences. I threw my stuff on the bed and stormed out, wondering why I happened to get World's Most Fucked Up Roommate.
