Roommates

Nerves were getting the best of me today. It's my first day of fucking college. I don't know what to think. I mean, I'm happy that I'm basically on my own, and away from my parents and their fucking stupid ass rules. But I'm also nervous because I don't know what people are going to think of me. I don't know if they'll like me or hate me or anything. But I guess that's how everyone feels, right?

I decided that I would drive myself to the college campus because I didn't want to deal with all the emotions my mom would have. I just thought that things would be easier this way. I mean it was already hard enough leaving home, I don't need to see her cry.

I lugged my suitcases and backpack throughout the maze like campus of Bellivue University. It was scorching hot outside, and the sidewalks were crowded with incoming freshman, and returning upperclassmen. No one seemed to have any manners, because everyone would bump into me, and glare at me as if it was my fault. Not one apologizing.

I finally came across the dorm building that I'd be staying in after an hour of continuous wondering. It was air conditioned inside, and felt good when I came in from the boiling hot air from the outside. It was full of what I assumed were also freshman, because they all had confused looks on their faces, and they seemed out of place. I felt the same exact way.

"Hello, sir. Do you have a dorm yet?"

I turned around and saw a short, fat old woman look at me from behind thick rimmed glasses, that magnetized her eyes, making her look sorta like a fly. I nodded and handed her my schedule. She scanned the paper before throwing it back at me and pointing her pudgy finger to the door on the far right of the room.

"Young man, go through that door, to the third floor. Your dorm room is the one at the end of the hall. Good day."

"Thank you," I muttered. I grabbed the handles of my suitcases, and headed towards the door. I groaned as I saw the endless row of stairs I had to walk up.

When I finally made my way to the third floor, I hurried down the hallway, only to see that someones stuff was already taking up space. I stood in the doorway, and just stared. Music was blaring from the speakers of an Ipod that was sitting on one of the two beds.

Posters of Iron Maiden, Misfits, and Green day were plastered over the walls on the already claimed bed. At least this person had good taste.

"Ahem."

I turned around, and saw a short boy staring at me with a box in his small arms.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to step out of the way," He hissed. I moved to the side, and he stomped inside, dropping the box on the floor.

His hair was black, and it hung over his eyes, and the sides of his head were shaved down short and died red. He had tattoos all over his arms, and a tattoo of what appeared to be a scorpion on his neck. He had a lip and a nose ring, and it also looked like he had a little bit of eyeliner on.

"What are you staring at?" He spat, crossing his arms and glaring at me.

I shook my head and ripped my eyes away from him.

"Sorry. I'm Gerard," I said, walking past him, and setting my stuff on the empty bed.

"Frank."

"Hello," I replied, unzipping my black suitcase, and taking out a pile of folded clothes.

"Hi," He grunted, still staring at me.

I could feel his eyes on me. There was tension in the room, but I wasn't too sure why. Maybe he didn't like me, but I don't know why, I mean, I didn't do shit to the kid.

"Ok, look here Jared-"

"Gerard. My name is Gerard," I corrected him. He rolled his eyes and continued.

"I don't give a fuck what your name is. Jared, Gerard it doesn't matter to me. I didn't want a damn roommate, but apparently, all students have to share a dorm, so unfortunately, I'm stuck with you."

His words hurt a little, but I tried not to let them get to me. I assumed that maybe he was having a bad day, and that's why he was being a douche to me.

"Anyways, simple rules. Keep your hands off my shit, and your own shit on your own side. Other than that we won't have problems. Got it?"

"Whatever," I mumbled, placing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in the drawer of my bedside table.

"Yeah."

"Why you being such a douche bag?" I asked, slamming the drawer shut. He dropped his tattooed arms to his side, and turned away from me.

"Why are you still talking to me? I don't give a damn for what you have to say," He spat back, shoving a stack of CDs under his bed.

"What crawled up your ass and died?" I muttered, grabbing another pile of clothes, and cramming them into the dresser.

"Ha ha. You're so fucking clever," he said, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"Damn right I am."

*-*-*

I came to the conclusion, that Frank is a total douche. Bad day or not, I didn't deserve to be treated like this, especially since I didn't do anything to him.

We didn't say anything to each other for a good two hours. We were both busy unpacking our shit. And besides, I didn't want to speak to the fucker because he would probably have some smart ass remark to spit back at me. So I played it safe, and will only talk to Frank if he spoke to me first.

"Gary, you gotta lighter I could borrow?"

I looked up and saw Frank standing over me, a cigarette slipped between his lips.

"First of all, it's Gerard, and yeah, I do," I said, slowly pulling it out to him. When he reached out to take it, I yanked it back, and he looked down at me, glaring.

"What the fuck. Give me the damn lighter," He sneered, taking the cigarette from between his lips, and holding his hand out farther.

"Say please, and you'll get it."

He growled and his jaw clenched.

"Please," He spat. I smiled and handed him the lighter. He snatched it from me. After his cigarette was lit, he threw the lighter onto the floor, and walked towards the opened window.

"That was rude, you fucking bitch," I complained, retrieving my lighter.

"I don't give a shit."

"Obviously."

Frank muttered something, but I didn't understand, so I just brushed it off, before I laid down on my bed, ready to sleep.

"Your going to sleep already? It's like 9:30. That's too damn early," Frank said, rubbing the tip of his lit cigarette on the window sill, and tossing it out the window.

"Yeah, but class starts tomorrow, and I want to sleep. Now, if you'll shut up, I'm going to sleep," I shot back turning the other way and facing the wall instead of Frank.

"Fuck you," he said, turning out the lights. There was some rustling coming from his side of the room, and I assumed that he was getting into bed. I rolled my eyes when I realized I was still in my jeans, and needed to change.

I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, and looked up only to see Frank standing there shirtless, and his pajama bottoms around his knees.

"The fuck you looking at Jared?" He asking, yanking up his bottoms.

Frank wasn't skinny, he was sorta muscular. He had a few tattoos on his chest and back. He didn't have an ounce of fat on him. It was all muscle which I was surprised to see, because when you first look at this guy, he looks scrawny.

"Nothing," I muttered, as I slid off my jeans, and replaced them with sweats.

*-*-*

I don't know what time it is right now, but I am sitting here wide awake and unable to go to sleep because Frank snores. And he snores LOUD. I tried covering my head with my pillow and falling asleep that way, but I could still hear it.

"Frank, shut the fuck up," I groaned. The only response I got back was more snores.

"Frank, I said shut the fuck up!" I repeated a little louder. Still nothing.

"Frank shut the fuck up!" I yelled chucking my pillow at his head. When the pillow came into contact with him, he shot up and was now sitting upright, his hair sticking up everywhere. He rubbed his eyes, and shot me a death glare.

"What the fuck is your problem man?" He screamed, throwing the pillow back at me, only to end up hitting the side of the bed, and falling to the floor, failing to touch me.

"You were snoring. And it was annoying. And nice shot," I chuckled, retrieving my pillow, and placing it under me head.

"Like I can hear myself snore, so it doesn't bother me. So throw another one of your fucking pillows at me again, I'm going to suffocate you with it."

I wasn't too sure if Frank was bluffing or not, but remembering his muscles, and assuming he'd end up being stronger then me, I wasn't going to take any chances.