Love

Chapter 11

Trust me this and the following chapter aren't done. But I've been looking at these and just decided to post and update them as I go... I know I know....I suck at this updating shit. I may even delete my stories all together and post them when they're farther along, I'm just not sure yet... I've been busy getting finished up with school, relationship drama, home drama, and getting into my career, so hopefully I'll be able to update more often. So I apologize for how shitty I've been.

Opening his eyes to a dimly lit room and a bellowing alarm, Brennan threw his sheets and comforter off his body and slapped his alarm silent before standing. He stiffened quickly as the blood found itself rushing to his head, he would have fallen had he not remembered what his dad once told him: "A good way to see clearly again after standing too quickly is to flex your abs. Your vision will come back to focus and you'll feel much better." So Brennan did just that. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he walked wearily to the bathroom and began his morning routine.

Stepping out of thick layers of steam, he proceeded to brush his teeth–layering his toothbrush with toothpaste, brushing the white goop into his mouth and scrubbing along his teeth and gums–assaulting his mouth with a fictitious minty flavoring.

Just as he bent over to spit, his suitemate's door opened an allowed a slender man to walk nakedly into the shower. He wasn't sure if what he had seen actually happened or if, in a daze, he dreamt it up... but nevertheless, he rinsed his mouth with clean water and exited the bathroom before anything more awkward could walk into his bathroom.

Dropping the towel from his waist, he glanced into his open closet and just stared. He was by no means a fashionista or knew anything about anything when it came to what to wear, but he thought he might "dress up" for his first day. Finally after a long debate in his head, he opted for a grey shirt, khaki pants, and a pair of boat shoes–something he saw on a cover of some magazine, probably GQ or whatever is in doctor's offices these days.

Clutching his paper schedule, shouldering his book bag, and taking out a cool bottle of water from the fridge, he walked out of his room and into a hopeful, bright future, but first he had to take an elevator.

Walking down the hall in the company of half his floor, he accompanied the few that were taking the elevator down to the main floor. And after one stuffy and awkwardly quiet elevator ride, the group arrived down to the main floor and shuffled off in their separate directions. Some exited through the rear of the dorm while others slithered out the front, either heading to their morning classes or bound for a hearty breakfast at the cafeteria.

On his way to the large four story Liberal Arts building, he found his way walking a desolate silence. Shoes scrapped the concrete paths, kicking stray pinecones or pebbles, squirrels above scurried along branches, jumping from on tree to another, but other than those stagnant interruptions of silence, noise was nonexistent. It was like an unspoken rule amongst the campus, that no sound should register before the clock has struck eight of the A.M. And the students abided by this unspoken rule religiously.

Arriving at the building, he chose to ride the elevator up to the third floor rather than taking the stairs. And again he was met with a crammed corner and an awkward silence of way too many people in a VERY small space.

The elevator stopped on every floor. EVERY FLOOR! It allowed students off and the occasional student on for a solitary, single story ride. Some of the occupants voiced their irritation in groans or heavy sighs, but no one spoke, no one broke the code; they merely glowered.

Stepping out of the elevator, something pierced the air, something strange...Noise: something that had been near absent his entire morning to this point. The corridor flowed with conversations, of people discussing the night before, their commute, and other mundane topics. Rounding the corner to the left of the elevator Brennan found himself a cup of coffee. A scalding cup of coffee–maybe a cappuccino or a latte–it probably tasted pretty good, but all Brennan could focus on was how hot it was.