Icy cold blue-grey eyes glared at him from across the lecture room. He did his best to ignore them, but it was hardly possible. He didn't even know the girls name. But from day one, it had been like she'd singled him out. And it wasn't even like he was particularly bright, quite the opposite, he was pretty sure he was always the last to turn in his class work.
"Some blonde chick is staring at you", he heard Murphy mumble. Bellamy spun around. "Yeah", he sighed. "Like, sending you literal death stares.", Murphy let out a little whistle. "Hot, though." It was Bellamy's second semester in Yale law school. He honestly didn't understand why people were freaking out everywhere, stressing about every little thing. The competitiveness was through the roof. Chances were the little blonde hated him for something he had said in class. You know, one of these social justicy types. It wasn't like Bellamy didn't care about the justice system – or didn't recognize it's deficiencies - for Christ's sake, he was going to become a lawyer, but he really couldn't be bothered with school. People were so tiresome, stiff, stupid. Murphy boxed him in the side. "Dude let's roll. I'm starving." With the blondes evil laser-like eyes stalking him, he followed Murphy through the Main halls gates out into the bitter cold that was New Haven in December. Christmas lights were up everywhere, and Bellamy couldn't help but feel jolly. He wasn't a huge Christmas-enthusiast like his little sister Octavia, but the holidays did have their charm. Vacation from all the people from school, just reading by the chimney and eating Octavia's burnt but still kind of edible Christmas cookies.
Murphy was the only bearable guy in school. He didn't talk that much, at least not to Bellamy. They each grabbed a coffee and a sandwich from the closest on-campus coffee shop, and while Murphy was blabberling about some girl from his economics class, Bellamy could concentrate on not concentrating on him but rather on staring out the window into the white, glowing abyss, and not thinking for a bit. Then the blonde waves that framed the face that had come to loathe him so intensely caught his attention. He had never seen the girl smiling before. She was walking past with some Asian kid and a tall, lanky one with tousled hair. Apparently, someone had said something absolutely, mind-bogglingly hilarious and they couldn't catch their breath laughing. "Dude, are you even listening?" Murphy's voice cut through to him. "Ya, Natasha, mad-hot, wants you, just doesn't know it yet." Nodding in annoyed acceptance, Murphy leaned back. "I really hate you sometimes, Bel." Bellamy flashed him a bright grin. "Me too."
"Excuse me", a soft, deep voice breathed down at him, and an arm reached across the table to get their plates. Bellamy looked up at the waitress. She was quite tall, with short, full, black hair. "No need to apologize", he smiled up at her. Immediately, the girls face fell from somewhat polite to incredibly annoyed. She clicked her tongue and raised her eyebrows. "Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously, this is an Ivy league school, is it really too much to ask not to be hit on every five minutes?", she snapped. Bellamy gave her a wildly irritated look. "I wasn't hitting on you" "Yes, you were.", the girl shot back. "Yes I was", Bellamy smiled. The waitress just rolled her eyes and stalks off. Turning to Murphy, who was looking rather amused, he sighed "Totally wants me."
When Bellamy got home, heavy black smoke and muffled dubstep greeted him. "Jesus Christ, Lincoln, don't you ever have class?" His roommate, of course, was sitting on Bellamy's bed, covered in Nachos. "Come on. If you had the choice: A ton of weed, or the "Political inequality in the southeast region of Uganda II ", which would you chose." Bellamy just looked at him. "You should have taken art." Lincoln growled. "I knoooow", and smashed a pillow over his head. "I'm dying on the inside!" Bellamy couldn't help it, a stifled laugh escaped his lips, and he let himself sink down next to Lincoln, taking the Joint out of his hand and inhaling deeply. "Lincoln, are you serious?", he asked twisting the Joint around in his fingers and blowing out smoke. "You're rolling blunts now? On Tuesdays?" "I ran out of tobacco.", his roommate moaned into his pillow. Bellamy broke out laughing, choking on smoke. "That's the absolute worst excuse I have ever heard!" "Hey!", Lincoln shouted, throwing the pillow on the floor. "We can't all be ingenious super-brains now, can we?" "thhAtS MY PILLOW YOU BRAINDEAD NEANDERTHAL?!", Bellamy shouted back, still coughing and laughing. "I don't care!", Lincoln returned screaming. "I'll do what I want!", he added, grabbing a handful of Nachos and throwing them in the air. "Oh my god", Bellamy breathed.
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