When I Taste Tequila [h.s] ✓

2. Then

Texas, September 2017

I had only been here a month and I was sure I was going to die. Even September here was too warm. There's no way people were actually made for handling temperatures this high. That day I moved in, it was a whopping 37 degrees.

Pardon me. I should say 98 degrees instead since I'm here. Yeehaw.

I'd had enough of trying to study outside on the lawn at the quad. The sun was going down soon anyway and I'd lose my light source. Shoving my notebook into my backpack, I got to my feet and put my hands on my hips, trying to pop my lower back which was feeling stiff from sitting hunched over so long, then started making my way to my dorm.

Marshall University had a lovely campus if you felt up for working up a sweat and possibly panting the entire time you walked around to appreciated it. Sturgis hall, where my dorm was located, was one of the newer buildings on campus, only built last year. They'd grouped all of the study abroad students in Sturgis on the same floor, but had given us local roommates to help "Enhance our experience of embracing Texas culture" as Mr. Barnes, the guidance counselor had told us all. I'd rolled my eyes.

As ashamed as I am to admit this, I'd been disappointed when I'd heard I was being sent here for my year of studying abroad. When I had signed up, it was in hopes that I'd get send somewhere rich in culture and life. Maybe Singapore or somewhere in Spain. France or Brazil. Any of the places I'd longed to visit over the years. Maybe even New York or California if they wanted to send me to the states.

Instead, I ended up here. My new friend, Niall that I'd met at orientation convinced me to cheer up and try to enjoy the experience. From the way he didn't stop smiling, I thought he'd already adapted that mindset, but the more time I spent with Niall, I learned that he's almost always smiling in general.

When I got to my room door, I pulled out my keys and opened the door. My roommate Louis was in front of the mirror he had pinned up on his armoire, flicking the fringe of his hair to the side then plucking at some of the strands as he tries to arrange them.

"Hey," I greeted him, hanging my backpack on the corner of my bed before taking a seat. "You going somewhere and plan on pulling?" I tease.

Louis snorted. "Pulling what? I dunno what that means," he said, complete in his southern accent that I'd just now fully gotten used to. "But I'm going to a party tonight."

I'd gotten lucky when on the roommate draw. Louis and I got on from the first day we met. We both compliment each other pretty well, despite being polar opposites. His all black, skater-esque style of clothing against my patterned and colorful shirts. The way his side of the wall bared posters for grungy bands I've never heard of and his side of the floor a complete disaster of dirty clothes scattered about. My side of the room had posters showing my love for Stevie Nicks and The Rolling Stones, and not a single sock to be found on the floor. As I said, completely different, but somehow we just worked.

"Have fun," I told him, before leaning back on my bed, tucking my arms behind my head.

"Why don't you come this time? All you've done is stay cooped up in here, using homework and studying as an excuse not to come out." Louis turned, putting a hand on his hip as he glared at me, trying to be intimidating.

For a man of his stature, I have to admit, he did look intimidating. "Isn't that the point of studying abroad? I'm abroad and I'm studying." That made Louis roll his eyes. "I will join you one of these days. I'm just, still trying to adjust."

A knock came on the door, and Louis went to answer it.

As soon as the door opened, Niall came right in. "Harry, get the fuck up. Come out with us." Despite his demanding words, he was grinning as he walked over to Louis bed and took a seat like he's at home.