Fighting Love

Chapter One♣

Broken things tend to possess sharp edges.

TRISA'S POV

This was what I wanted, but doing it alone made it seem quite scary. In my head, the driver drove about fifteen miles per hour, but in reality, we were going nearly fifty. I was simply eager to get to college before I reconsidered. Huddled to one side of the car, I contemplated turning back, but I knew it wasn't possible. It was only luck that granted me the scholarship, so I couldn't waste my chance. I sighed, staring out the window with one elbow perched against the door and my chin resting in my palm. Trees lined the side of the road, poised in their green suits. It was beautiful, but I couldn't enjoy the scene.

"We're here," the driver announced, dragging my attention with his coarse voice. He glanced at me through the mirror, continued up a path about a kilometer, then around a fountain, and parked.

As we exited the car, I gawked at the gigantic building that stood before us. "I'm gonna get so lost in this place." I gulped. "Thank you," I told the driver before collecting my suitcases. The concrete stairway led me to open glass doors. A front desk welcomed me, and as I glanced around, I noticed a small lounge space adorned with red cushioned chairs. Opposite that sat a wooden coffee table and an everlasting hallway. I noticed a fat middle-aged lady stooping behind the desk. "Excuse me, I'm here for my schedule and room key, please," I said.

She peeked over the counter and greeted with a polite smile, "Good morning, Miss?"

"Trisa, Trisa Morgan." I watched her search the files on her desk before handing me a sheet of paper and a set of room keys.

"Here is a sticky note with your dormitory information. Do not lose it." Nodding, I scanned it for my dorm number, 623 E. I sighed, knowing finding my way would be a task. "Thank you, but how do I get there? I missed the tour on orientation day."

"That way, dear." She pointed to the east. "On the fourth floor, follow the hallway until you see your number. If you need anything, come back here." She then went back to stoop behind the desk.

"Thanks." I stuck the note to my schedule and forced everything into my purse, then hauled the suitcases to the elevator next to the desk. Soon after, I shuffled out, eyeing two long hallways in a gamble to identify east. A sign dangling from the concrete ceiling caught my attention with a bold: 'WEST' written on it. This showed east was the other way. Each of the doors I passed had a metallic number fastened to it. I scanned them, 620, 621, until eventually, 623.

"Finally." I halted at the door and reached into my purse for the keys. When the door swung open, an unpleasant sight greeted me and an awful stench slapped me square in the face. Dirty clothes shrouded the tiled floor and the beds. Soda cans and pizza cartons decorated the room, leaving me to shudder at the thought of insects. "Oh my God! Cockroaches. Flies. Rats."

"These people expect me to live in a pigsty?" Whoever my roommate was, she and I would not get along. I unzipped one of my suitcases for cleaning tools. It was a habit I developed to always bring cleaning products if I planned to stay somewhere. My sister was the one to encourage the idea. Since she was no more, I felt close to her doing things she liked. If only life didn't snatch her away so quickly, I would've still had an older sister to guide me through college. This was why, by all means, I avoided boys. I will never forgive the one who broke my sister.

I brought out my cleaning agents and rags, ready to clean the place spotless. My first action was to separate the trash from the clothes. I walked back and forth, throwing each piece of garment to the other side. After I finished polishing and dusting, it was time to sweep. In the closet, I found the broom leaning with a mop and bucket. This was across from the bathroom, which was behind the wall that a desk was at. After making my bed with my favorite purple bedspread, I gathered the garbage. When I finished, the room was spick and span. My roommate's space seemed even dirtier than before and I felt guilty for leaving it that way, so I cleaned it too.

Later, a loud banging on the door jerked me awake, and I almost fell out of bed. Someone broke the door off its hinges. A guy stood in the corridor. He wore a scowl on his face and modeled black jogger pants and a white V-neck shirt. "Typical college boy." I gaped at him. 'Is he crazy?" He broke the door.

For a few seconds, he hesitated, then darted inside.

"Who are you and why the fuck are you in my room?"

"Trisa, your roommate," I declared, "And your name is?"

"None of your damn business." He flicked the light switch and threw his black backpack onto the floor beside the other bed. "Wait, who told you to touch my stuff?"

"You're welcome," I mumbled and flicked the lights back off.

He watched me slide back under the sheets before turning them back on.

"What's your problem?" It puzzled me why he was here. Surely he must've missed a turn or something. If this was how people behaved in college, I was in way over my head. Nobody needed to know this, though.

"Next time, don't touch my stuff without my permission. Got it?"

I quickly masked the fear that washed me. "Next time, don't put your stuff in my way. Got it!" I hissed.

He hauled me off of the bed and forced me to look up into his face. "Listen, pretty face." He glared into my eyes. "This is my territory, so, you. Respect. Me! Capiche?"

I held my breath, owned by his intense gaze. His closeness made my heart pound in my chest, and I stood rooted in my spot with wobbling feet.

"Next time you sass me, I'll teach you a lesson. Got it?" His words were just as daring as his voice, and satisfaction lingered in his eyes. I knew he knew he intimidated me. With a smirk, he pushed me onto my bed. "Nice ass."

His words terrified me, but if he thought the opposite, he'd leave me alone. So as he walked away, I straightened myself and shoved him with the little strength I had. He landed on the floor instead of the bed. "Fuck you! I'm not your bitch. You may scare everyone else, but I'm not afraid of you." I smirked at his surprised expression. "Don't fucking touch me again!" With that, I scurried to my side of the room. "God, help me."

He paced toward me, a low chuckle escaped his lips.