Fidd and Ford's Time in Backupsmore (Discontinued)

Dorm Room 618

Stanford Pines was most likely the smartest man at Backupsmore University. He had already gotten settled into his dorm, unpacked his bags, laid on his bed, and started to read a book. He knew everyone is supposed to have a roommate, but his hadn't shown up yet. Stanford was hoping he wouldn't get one. His plan for the year was to talk to the least amount of people he possibly could.

Fiddleford McGucket woke up a little late this morning. He quickly grabbed his bags and ran out the door. He took a bus to the campus, eating a granola bar that he grabbed on his way out. When he got to the school, Fiddleford looked for the dorms and found them rather quickly. He dragged his bags up the stairs and through the hall to dorm room 618, his room.

Fiddleford searched his pockets for his key, but to his dismay, he couldn't find it. He knocked on the door, assuming his roomate was already there. Fiddleford was quite late after all, there was almost no way he was the first one there.

When the door opened, Fiddleford couldn't actually see who he was rooming with because of how many bags he had in his arms. "Would you like some help with those," Fiddleford heard his roommate ask.

"It would be greatly appreciated," He replied and his roommate took half of the bags and put them on the empty bed.

"I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Stanford Pines," Fiddleford's roommate began, "You can Just call me Ford, if you would prefer."

"I'm Fiddleford. It's kinda funny, both our names end in 'ford.'"

Ford laughed, "Then I'll call you Fidd."

Fiddleford noticed that Ford had six fingers on each hand. Ford noticed Fiddleford staring and shoved his hands in his pockets, a slight blush running across his face. "Don't hide them," Fiddleford told him, "I think they're cool. They make you unique!" Stanford smiled and took his hands back out and looked them. Fiddleford held his hands to look at them better. This only made Ford blush even more. Fiddleford let go, not even seeing how flustered Ford was.

Ford turned to look at Fiddleford and for a second, their eyes locked. Fiddleford noticed and looked away, blushing. "I should probably unpack," Fiddleford tried to not call attention to his own awkwardness. 

"Ok," Ford said, "I'll just read my book."

Fiddleford started to take his clothes out of his bags and put them in the drawers next to the bed. All the while thinking about Ford's light brown eyes and dark brown hair. He tried to shake the thoughts, but he just couldn't. He sighed and fell back on his bed.

"What's wrong, Fidd," Stanford asked.

Fiddleford took a deep breath in and said, "I was just thinking about... classes tomorrow." He had to lie. What else could he have done?

"So am I," Stanford sighed. That was a lie too.