Wanna Be Somebodies

The ride to the school is a total of six hours, six hours because it’s at the opposite end of the state below us. Frank and I don’t mind the ride; we mainly draw and watch movies, and of course, talk to each other. My parents know we’re dating now, and as for Frank’s parents, without their only son, they’ve left our old hometown and given up on ever regaining him.
Frank and I aren’t in the same dorm, roommate preferences were existent, but we didn’t apply in time to fill that part out. There was also an open house, which we didn’t attend, on account of it being six hours away. We do know who our roommates are, but we just haven’t met them. Frank’s roommate’s name is Coulter Richard. Frank is overwhelmed with joy at the fact that the kid has two first names, three if he has a middle one. My roommate had some obscure name that I didn’t care to remember. Hopefully he introduces himself properly and doesn’t assume I know his name. Especially if he already knows mine.
We arrive at 4:00, and my legs feel as though they are completely paralyzed. Frank springs up as if it was nothing, and pulls me to my feet and out of the car, which turns me into a stumbling mess. He turns to the trunk, opening it and tossing out our bags carelessly.
“Hey! Be careful!” I warn.
“It’s fine,” Frank insists. He lobs out a bag with some dishware in it, and the shattering of the plates fails to startle him. He continues until all of the bags are out of the car, and instead, on the street. My mother, who drove us, helps us gather everything (4 bags of clothes, 1 of dishware, 2 of possessions), and walks both of us to our dorms. Frank and I split the contents of the dishware bag, Frank taking half into his room, which is on the floor below mine. I continue to climb with a groan, reaching my destination. I timidly open the door, and my mom kisses me goodbye, reminding,
“I’ll be calling tomorrow at four.”
I nod, and enter this strange new place.
Despite the fact that my roommate has already been there, seemingly for a while, his bags remain packed, the walls plain, and the bed unmade, bare with mattresses and metal frames only.
The boy has vivid green eyes, the kind of green that one would expect to be produced only by contacts. He has brown hair that hangs all over his face, into his eyes, down his neck, past his ears. I feel like I would’ve related to him better if I still had my long hair. But sadly, it’s currently cut up above my ears.
The boy regards me with a look of general interest, and asks, “What’s your name?”
I laugh, because I’m not the only one to forget my roommate’s name. “I’m Gerard. You are?”
He stands, brushing off the front of his jeans. “August.” He holds his hand out.
It takes me a moment to realize that he’s going for a handshake, since practically no one from my generation does this. I shake his hand, resting my arms at my side. “Aren’t unpacking?”
August shrugs. “No. I’ll live out of my bags until they’re all empty.”
I chuckle, and question, “But you’re not even going to put your bedding on?”
August looks at the bare mattress, and replies, “Maybe later tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in two weeks. I dunno.”
I shake my head, and can’t help but wonder how Frank’s doing with his roommate. I set my bags down on my bed, unzipping them all but not removing any of the contents. I dismiss August with, “I’m going to my boyfriend’s dorm.”
I realize what I had said, upon first meeting a person. A twinge of regret hits my stomach, and I glance over at August to see if he’d noticed. He did, but he doesn’t seem angry or grossed out or even surprised. He just grins and asks,
“Can I come?”
“Sure,” I answer, waiting for him to stand and follow me out the door.
We go down the stairs to Frank’s dorm, which already has the name “Coulter” scrawled across the marker board on the door. Frank has yet to add his, and I failed to check if August had written his name up yet, but I know that I hadn’t.
I knock first, and it is answered by Frank, who looks worn down. “Gerard! And… who is this?”
“I’m called August,” August informs. He shakes Frank’s hand, and adds politely, “May we come in?”
“Yeah,” Frank replies breathlessly, stepping back to allow us entry.
“Why are you tired?” I ask Frank.
“Tired? Oh. Yeah, Coulter’s not here now, but he’s quite the handful.” Frank groans as he lays himself on his bed, which is already made with his dorky Batman sheets and regular blue duvet.
“What do you mean?” August wonders. He thinks for a moment, before saying, “Coulter Adams?”
“Yeah, I think that’s him,” Frank responds.
“Oh, yeah, he has Asperger’s and ADHD,” August tells. “He can be a bit too much at first.”
“A bit? Try a lot,” Frank groans. He sighs, continuing, “Well, I guess I’ll grow used to him.”
I lay down next to Frank, asking, “So, do you want to go get something to eat? After all, it is an appropriate time for a snack.”
“Sure,” Frank agrees, doing a sit up to stand. He nudges August. “You coming, Auggie?”
August nods, tagging along behind Frank. “Yep.”
I follow August out, wondering if we’ll meet any kids in the lounge and how nice they’ll be. Hopefully Frank can meet some wrestling kids, since they have an off season program here that starts tomorrow. He really gets nervous at new things if he doesn’t know anybody, and I don’t want him to be anxious during his favorite sport.
We sit down at a table towards the back corner, which probably isn’t the best if you’re looking to meet people. Regardless, within ten minutes, there’s a pack of four boys coming over, and my heartbeat accelerates as I dissect their intentions.

Notes

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