I got out of the van stiffly. The first thing I did was stretch my arms towards the sky. I felt my skin stretch over my muscles, sending tingles to my toes. I couldn't believeI was finally here, California. College life. Around four or so years of hanging out here, then I would be an adult. Get a job, live my future. An adult, I thought, will I look like my dad? I shuddered. I hoped not. I was hardly ready for all that.
I slammed the door roughly and slumped over to the registration office. A crowd of blond girls were talking and laughing as I passed, ignoring me as they shoved into my chest. I steadied myself for a second, then walked in. I was greeted by a thirty or something year old redheaded receptionist.
"Hi, I'm Mrs. Cope. Welcome to Berkeley, home of the Golden Bears. How may I help you?" She drawled in a flat voice. I rolled my eyes.
"Um… I just got here. Can I get my card and key?"
"Name," she mumbled in the same bored tone. It didn't even sound like a question.
"Troy. Troy Bolton."
"Alright, wait a moment please, Bolton, while I find your file." She rummaged through several filing cabinets until she held out a yellow manila envelope. She opened it, fanned several papers across her desk, and sighed.
"Okay, so here you have your map," she put her French manicured finger on a large, pull out brochure looking thing, "Your key," she gestured toward the piece of metal casting shine off the fluorescent lights, "A complete guide to dining and activities," she pointed at another stack of stapled papers, "And a 25% off your first purchase at the school store," she waved the little red trimmed border coupon in the air. "Any more questions?"
Okay, so she had given me a key, and a whole bunch of non essentials. I could print out everything but the dorm key from the site. Maybe I could print out the 25% off coupon again from the site, get a sweater or something from the store.
"Yeah, uh, student ID." One of two things I couldn't get off the Internet.
"Of course," she sneered unpleasantly. I was liking this lady less and less by the second. "Just sit down there."
I plopped myself on a chair across her desk and waited. Soon she had a camera hooked to the top of the computer screen, facing me.
"Okay, smile for me, or don't smile. I don't really care, so do whatever you want. In 3…2… and… there," I grinned weakly as the camera made a beeping noise. Then she went clicking away on the computer. I slumped down in the chair some more, losing the smallest hint of a smile. I must of come out looking like a phsyco, my hair was most likely sticking out like I received an excessive noogie. And I would keep this card for the rest of the year, possibly four. Joy.
"Here, Bolton, your card's ready," she huffed impatiently, her long nails staccato against the hollow mahogany. Could she be any more irritating? I sauntered over to get it.
"Thank you. I-um, could you get me all my papers?" I asked a little uncomfortably. She was flattening my map with her elbow.
"Yeah, yeah." She shuffled the papers together and slid them in the manila envelope. "Have a good day, sir." She sounded like a broken tape recorder.
"You too," I stifled in irritation. I exited the building once more and made my way to the truck. I hopped in, surprised when the engine didn't roar to life. Instead I got the purring of a decent engine. I laughed.
I drove to Bowles hall, all the way near the football stadium. I was greeted by a grey old looking building with a great green lawn stretching out in front with a ton of windows. I would have to call this standoffish, abandoned looking place home.
So I got out of the van and unloaded my stuff. Even my luggage seemed stiff from the journey to California, heavier. I strapped one bag on my arm, slung another one across my shoulder, and lugged around two rolling bags with my available hands. I must have looked like a prisoner the way that all those black straps were holding me down to the concrete like chains.
I hit the main passageway. It was empty and lonely, until I reached the next one. Ashen. Depressing. As I was rounding around a corner, I bumped into this huge dude. My eyes widened.
He looked bad ass, with bare feet, tattoos, piercings, buzz cut, low riders, and a simple white tank. I was surprised the tank didn't burst open in the effort to hold in his tremendous, big enough to be steroid pumped, muscles. I met his eyes for a second. I stared wide eyed as he glared. They screamed two words; Back. Off.
"Sorry, man. I didn't see you there," I said in surprise, my face a mask of astonishment. He grunted, and smiled with his bottom teeth, leaning in closer with brows furrowing in anger. I didn't dare move my head a fraction of an inch, just waited for him to walk away. I could smell the strong pungent contents of alcohol in his breath, filling up my nostrils with bitterness. It made me want to sneeze for some weird reason, or scratch my nose. Before I could do anything though, he leaned back, and walked away, back hunched. I watched him until he narrowed down another hall.
Jeez. That guy had serious problems. I vaguely wondered if all the people here were the same, if they were all high on steroids and smelling like milk left in the sun too long mixed with sweat. I dragged along another hall in search for my room. It wasn't a long way, it was only on the first floor. Thank God, I didn't think I could carry all these bags up several flights of stairs.
I dropped all the bags when I reached dorm 128 on the right side of the hall. I fumbled for the key in my pocket, and managed to stick it through the hole. Then, I took a deep breath, and opened…
I was met with an expected site, bland as the hall and the outdoors. It seemed like the whole building was painted grey. A couple of random articles of clothing were strewn across the floor, creating an oddly comfortable mess. I couldn't stand the neatness, unlike my O.C.D. mother. Something always needed to be out of place in my room, whether even the slightest. Acknowledging this made me a little happier.
I walked in a bit farther in the room. There was two doors, leading to the bedrooms I presumed, that were slightly ajar. The north wall held a glass window, displaying a good portion of the cloudy afternoon. To the right was a TV, a navy blue couch the centerpiece of the room, strung with sweaters and shirts and cluttered in books and papers of all sort. Someone was here.
I hadn't even noticed the shower was up and running until it shut off, I heard the sound behind me. I hadn't caught that bathroom door right next to the entrance, I was too preoccupied with looking ahead. I zipped past the bathroom door as fast as I could, I didn't want to risk the probability of some naked guy bumping into me, possibly my future roommate. God, that would be embarrassing. I settled myself on the couch, pretending to be preoccupied with something on my phone. I heard the bathroom door open, but I didn't make a move to turn my head around and see who it was. His move.
"Are you serious?" A voice boomed from the door. A blond haired kid with blue eyes wearing only boxers and a grey tee stared at me wildly, with a weird expression on his face. When I stood up, Blondie moved a bit closer. He stubbed his skinny index finger at me.
"You my new roomie?" he clarified. I nodded at him. A huge grin broke across his face.
"I'm Troy. Troy Bolton," I said politely. I extended an arm to greet him.
"Mike Newton," he smirked, his blown out grin faltering a little. He slapped my hand with his palm and shook it firmly. Strong. So far I liked this guy.
"You a freshman at Berkeley?" I asked, eyebrows raised. He didn't look that old. He still looked like he belonged in high school to me. Then again, maybe I looked that way too.
"Yup," His lips popped on the "P", "I'm taking accounting and business."
"Buisnessman?" He hardly looked the type. Guy in boxers wearing suit and tie? I wanted to crack up, but I kept my mouth shut.
"Eh." He scratched at his ear. "The family business. Mom wants me to take over. I don't know what else I can do, so why not? I also wanted to come here cause my girlfriend really wanted me to go," he finished impishly. "How about you?"
"Well.." I started, and sighed before continuing, "I actually wanted to go to the University of Albuquerque, but then my girlfriend, Gabriella, got a scholarship to Stanford. I got a couple of scholarships from around here, so I took a shot at Berkeley. Here I am."
He blinked in surprise. "Jeez," he breathed, "I wouldn't of passed you for the nerdy type."
Once I processed his words, I let out a short laugh. "Hardly. Gabriella's the smart one. I'm here for basketball," I chuckled, and ran a hand through my hair. He relaxed. I sat down on the couch again, this time grabbing the remote and mindlessly flipping through the channels. After a while, Newton joined me.
"Hey, so a bit later, me and a couple of new friends I met are going to dinner. You up for it?"
I hesitated. "Actually," I started, "I'm supposed to be meeting my girlfriend later for a movie."
He shrugged. "She can come too, if she wants. We're all just trying to get to know each other, anyways. But if you gotta go to the movies, I understand."
"I'll go ask her," I told him. "I'm sure she won't mind." I stood up, and took out my cell phone. I sent her a text. Mike took my spot on the couch and lay sprawling down on it, stealthily grabbing the remote from the armrest and starting to flip though the channels himself. I ignored him.
Are you in the middle of something? I texted her. I didn't want to call her just in case she was in one of those extra credit classes she took all the time. The ones I would never be caught dead doing.
I'm not doing anything, you can call, she texted back. Relief sagged heavy on my shoulders. I finally got to hear her voice.
I finally got to hear her voice.
I punched in the familiar numbers. She picked up on the first ring.
"Troy?" her musical voice rang, as clear as a bell. It brung a warmth to my toes.
"Gabriella," I acknowledged. I felt myself smile voluntarily. Suddenly Newton, the dorm, and the blaring TV disappeared. All I pictured was Gabriella sitting down on the grass, notebook on lap, pen in hand, the wind playing in her silky hair, the sunshine making her angelic features glow, and her warm smile taking the breath out of me. I closed my eyes, and it was exactly what I saw. I pictured every line of her beautiful face perfectly, as if I was with her at the moment. I was so in love.
"Troy?" she breathed, "What was it you wanted to tell me?"
I snapped my eyes open, raking my brain to remember. Something about the movie… Newton… dinner. I recalled the past conversation now.
"Umm.. are you okay if we do something else besides go to the movies tonight? My new roomie invited me to go to dinner with a couple of new people, and he invited us to come," I said a little uncertainly.
"Oh!" Her voice went an octave higher in surprise. "It's fine with me, it's been a while since we've gone to dinner. Actually… can you ask him if I can bring two more people? They're dying for an excuse to get out."
I hesitated, then turned around. "Sure, hold on," I murmured into the phone, and then lowered it down to my neck. Mike turned around to face me, sitting upright.
"Is she good to go?" he asked. I nodded, then took a breath to add to the confirmation.
"Is it alright if she brings two more people, though?" I asked. He looked up, pondering, then brought them down and grinned.
"Are they girls?" he asked mischievously. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Didn't he have a girlfriend? I frowned a little, and then brought my cell back to my ear.
"He's asking if they're girls," I asked a little sourly. Gabriella laughed lightly, the sound reminding me of crystal bells chiming in the wind. I exhaled in a gust.
"Yes. They are. Make sure to throw in that they're single." I heard the soft, warm familiar smile in her voice. I couldn't wait to see it again.
"Yeah, they are," I said flatly.
"Perfect!" Mike smirked. "These two guys, they're on the lookout. It'll be like… a double double date." I grinned, and raised the phone again.
"Okay, then it's settled. Make sure to tell your friends that they need to be ready at…" I looked at Newton for an answer. He raised seven tanned, skinny fingers. "Seven."
"Great! I'll call you then," she chirped. I kept my mouth shut. I knew what she was doing, and I didn't like it. I didn't want to say goodbye.
Yet, that was always the thing Gabriella was good at. "Bye, Troy," she murmured, like a lulling, sweet, lullaby. I closed my eyes.
"Bye," I breathed. Two seconds later, I was listening to a dead dial tone. I sighed. I folded the phone closed, and stuffed it into my pocket.
We were in for an interesting night.