The Invisible Silver Lining [CURRENTLY BEING EDITED]

Chapter 7

RE-EDITED

-CFF 

_______________________

Still shaken after my confrontation with Alexander, I make my way back to the parking lot. Megan was just as shocked as I about my meeting the celebrity once more. The knowledge that this wasn't a dream stayed with me, even though I'd very much like it to be. Then maybe things wouldn't be so awkward seeing him here. Because honestly, now that I'd actually seen him on campus, I had a gut feeling it wouldn't be the last time I saw him, no matter how I wished for that to be the case.

On the way to the parking lot, I ran into the barbie cheerleader again. Deciding that ignoring would be the best course of action, I make my way past her, choosing to walk through grass instead of a sidewalk to avoid a second conflict. The cheerleader has other ideas, I can tell, as I hear the sound of heels clicking towards me. My motorcycle is insight, I could just jump on it and run away, the very thing I want to do.

"Hey!" Bethany calls out, giving me no choice but to respond. There's no one else out here, so its quite obvious she is speaking at me. Fine.I turn, facing her. My eyebrow raises as she folds her arms, standing a little too close for comfort. "I saw you outside, walking with Xander Kingsman."

"So?" It was a private conversation, what could she want about it?

Wrinkles crinkle around her eyes and lips, as if she's holding back laughter.Or possibly a scream. "So keep away from him. He's mine."

He was acting pretty single to me. Nevertheless I roll my eyes, pulling my keys from my pockets. Converse traipsed across concrete as I moved to my cycle. The familiar, beautiful purr of the engine starting up. There was nothing quite like riding a motorcycle I had learned; what with the helmet, sunglasses, personal music though a portable earpiece, and gripping the body of the machine close to the ground. My vehicle inched forward by the pushing of my feet, standing beside the cheerleader. "You want him, you can have him."

My apartment and friend is waiting for me, a more important date than listening to a blonde's pathetic wishes. Seeing no further need to stay, the engine roars, pushing me to the next step of my first day at USC. I had already visited the apartments, just to become familiar with where mine would be. The apartments sit nearest to the edge of campus, the living quarters that are farthest on campus property.

'Making my way downtown.' The heat from my Harley engine is comforting, a great contrast to the cool breeze blowing, a rarity for this time of year. My cycle is an older, well used Harley, but she's still my baby, two years running. Not a dream car, but it comes pretty close.

The apartments are formed in a cul-de-sac, little houses for two or three people scattered about with tiny front lawns and driveways. Number 145 is mine, the major difference from all the other white miniature houses that look nearly identical. Megan is already waiting for me outside, leaning against the trailer comfortably. "Hey college kid."

I laugh, parking my Harley and pushing myself off. "Please, I'm only a year older than you. This will be you next year." The trailer is already unlocked, a good amount of my belongings waiting on the driveway. Megan hands me a suitcase with a smile, "I was bored." A statement that doesn't surprise me in the slightest.

"I swear, if you're not moving, something is wrong with the world." A backpack is slung over my shoulder, and a pillow is taken by the unoccupied hand before I start walking up to the door. Megan follows my example, picking up two boxes. "Did you meet my roommate yet?"

"No. I figured I'd wait for you, otherwise it'd be super awkward."

Megan and I had discussed being roommates at one time when we were little, but now with both interests lying in different directions and the issue of being a year apart, both of us decided it was smarter to keep pursuing our dreams in different directions, instead of waiting for the other.

When the door of the apartment opens, the first thing to catch my attention is how loud One Direction is being played throughout the house. It's one of their older, and personally I believe better, hits.

A brunette is sitting on a couch, a magazine in one hand and fingernail polish in the other. As soon as the door clicks against the door stopper the girl looks up, piercing green eyes searching us. She stands in excitement, allowing me to take in more of her physical appearance. She's shorter than me, which is saying something, though her stance is a powerful one, confident of who she is. Rubber bracelets cover the right wrist in overlapping layers, and her jean shorts display well tanned legs. The grin of welcome shines as bright as her eyes, and the invitation she proclaims is just as bubbly as both.

"Roomie! Evangeline, right?"

Some of the anxiety I had been a victim of this morning starts washing away. "Hello. Yes, Evangeline. And this is one of my friends, Megan." The friend promptly nods in a what's up kind of way before I continue, "I'm so sorry, you'll have to remind me of your name."

My roommate waves her hand, dismissing my apology, "You're fine, I'm just really good at names. I'm Sharon. Sharon Johnson. Let me help with you with your luggage, yeah? I'm already moved in so its no trouble. Your room is on the left side of the bathroom, I let you have the bigger one because I don't have a lot of stuff, I hope that's okay." Sharon maneuvers past Megan and I, though Megan quickly follows after dropping her load. As for me, I begin to look around, curious to explore my new home.

Small, yes, but quaintly so. Its cute. The living room has been painted a bright pale yellow, decorated with several black and white hanged photos. A white love seat sits in front of an entertainment center,both centered in the living room. There is also a second white piece,a chair covered in yellow pillows, and a few small oak end tables for lamps and the like. The floor consists of hardwood, and appears to be the same oak as the tables. Left of the living room is the opening to the kitchen, which is smaller than the living room and decorated in a similar fashion. Smaller, yes, but perfect for two people.