A/N Title is the famous last words of Henry Ward Beecher. Disclaimer: I do not own Looking for Alaska, or any of the characters used in this story. They are John Green's. Of course.

two hundred and twenty seven days after

or

two days before

I SAT IN THE CAR; hand out the window, feeling the rush of warm air as my brother's truck sped down the highway. I tried to look as sulky as possible, but it was hard when it was so warm. I was angled away from my brother, who was driving.

We were driving through Alabama, on my way to my new boarding school, Culver Creek. I had been perfectly fine at my old public school in Orlando, most everyone liked me and I had a lot of friends, but I didn't know about Culver Creek. My dad had gone there, and I could vaguely remember him telling me that this guy from my school went there last year, but I didn't recognize the name. Max or maybe it was Miles. Yeah, that was it. But no face came to mind, so I sunk back into my mood.

"Come on, Gemma, I know you're excited about this," my brother said, even though he full well knew I was not.

"No. I am not excited at all. Please, let me suffer in silence." I knew I was being dramatic, but whatever. There was no reason for me to be shipped off. I had good grades, and my parents didn't even know about any of my not-so-legitimate enterprises. But that didn't matter. Culver Creek was probably an upstanding school. At least they didn't have uniforms. Yet.

My brother had already graduated college, and never had to go to Culver Creek, I couldn't help but think. Why was I so special? Cursed was more like it.

I was moving into a single room, which apparently was unusual. The dean of students told me that the previous occupant's name was Alaska, who was the same age as me, but he was hesitant to say more. In my state of boredom, I wondered why. Had she been kicked out? Alaska. What a strange name. Maybe there was a story behind it. Maybe it would help me fit in that I already knew about her. Flutters of nerves reached my stomach. Would I be a complete outsider? I hoped not. That would only make everything worse. The whole not having a roommate thing sounded good, but it also meant that there was no one who would be stuck with me, have to get along with me. Oh well.

"What do you know about Culver Creek, Cody? Did Dad every try to convince you to go?"

Cody snorted, "I was wondering when you were going to ask. Yes, he tried. He told me stories of pranks, smoking, drinking, and many other things I shouldn't be telling you. I'm sure Culver Creek is much more respectable nowadays. Don't worry; I'm sure you'll love it." He smiled over at me a minute and then returned his eyes to the road.

Huh? I had never heard of anything slightly exciting from my previous descriptions of my new school. That made no sense. Why would Dad want to send me here? To experience life? I could do that in Orlando. I had heard a story from one of my friends about a guy and girl from another school who had gone on a night of revenge against classmates. I could do that! I didn't need to go here to live! But arguing with no one wouldn't help me any. I just had to smile, and pretend to like it here. It was only one year, anyway, just my senior year. Another thing I was fuming about. I was about to be the senior of my school, the highest in the land, and I had to go back and start over. Unlike what my dad might think, there wasn't a redo button on life, I couldn't transfer my former life into Culver Creek.

"I think we're here, Gemma," Cody said as I saw the sign that proclaimed they were about to enter 'Culver Creek Preparatory School, Est. 1921'. I sighed as it looked like not only had it been established in 1921, it hadn't been updated since.

Cody parked, and I stepped reluctantly out of the car, into the stifling heat. I muttered a string of profanities under my breath, and started walking toward my new dorm room with my first bag. Room 48. I had passed a house which I knew was of the dean of students, Mr. Starnes. There was a dry erase board on the door, free of writing, but you could still see the outline of the words, in loopy handwriting, "Alaska has a single!" I wonder why there was nothing up. I opened the door to my new room, and gazed upon my room for the next year.

The room was pretty much empty, save a dresser and a bed. The dresser was nice, especially since I hadn't bothered to bring one. The room smelled empty at first, kinda old and musty, but then I smelled vanilla, grass, and a hint of cigarette smoke. It was almost comforting.

Cody and I eventually got all my stuff, and I said good bye to him, as happily as I could. It was so hot; I didn't even want to think about unpacking. I sat on my mattress in shorts and a tank top, grabbing a book. Reading was always calming to me, and I needed it today. Slowly I felt the room cool down, due to the fan I had brought, but it was still sweltering. I sighed. Might as well start unpacking.

I had started unpacking my clothes when I heard a knock at the door. I nervously checked my reflection in the mirror I had just put up. My long jet black hair was back in a ponytail, my bangs to the side. My annoyingly pale face had a slight sheen of sweat, and my blue eyes showed nervousness. It was now or never.

I opened the door slowly, and saw a short, muscular man standing there. He was about six inches shorter than me, and I was average height. His eyes widened when he saw me, but they didn't lose their image of sadness. He didn't say anything. Hesitantly, I spoke,

"Hi, I'm Gemma."

Slowly he shook himself, stretched out his hand and said,

"Gemma. Hi, I'm Chip, but you should call me The Colonel."

I shook his hand. The Colonel? What a strange nickname,

"Okay, may I ask why? I assume it has nothing to do with chickens,"

He smiled for the first time, and said,

"Don't worry; I'm sure you'll find out soon enough. Gemma, right? This room belonged to someone very special to me and my friend who will be arriving tomorrow. I assume you're a senior?"

I hid my groan, "You assume correctly. You as well?"

He nodded,

"Well, I won't keep you, Gemma. But be sure, you will be getting more visits from me and my buddy Pudge. Where are you from, anyway?"

"Florida. Orlando."

He turned to leave, and then stopped, as if remembering something,

"Florida, huh? Pudge is from Florida, if I remember. Maybe you know him."

"Maybe."

And he walked away, five doors down, and then disappeared into his room.

I wondered if this Pudge was the Miles kid I didn't really know. An odd nickname, but then again so was the Colonel. He must have been friends with this Alaska. Maybe it would be easier to make friends here then I thought.

I was still leaning against the doorway thinking when the Colonel's door opened again, and he walked out to the payphone. He didn't see me, so I closed the door to just a crack. I had always been good at eavesdropping.

"Pudge? Hey it's the Colonel."

Pause. I heard the Colonel shuffling his feet.

"It's okay here, man. It'll get a fuck lot better tomorrow when you get here. This is our senior year, it's time. I think I found a new addition to the three Musketeers."

Short pause.

"The girl who lives in Alaska's old room," my stomach fluttered, he liked me and he looked nice enough, "Pudge, this girl is b-e-a-utiful. Trust me on this one. And I think she got sent here to have some fun. And fun we shall have."

I considered closing the door, I knew eavesdropping sometimes got you into trouble, but I was very interested.

"I know, I miss her too. No one can replace her," He said sadly. I closed the door quietly, and sat on my bed. Who was Alaska?

A/N Review please! Thanks!