September 1, 2009

This is it. I'm here. I'm really doing it. This… is… COLLEGE!

Not Sparta. College.

I'm not even sure how I feel. I'm… excited. Honestly, I kind of feel like I'm going to throw up. That's got to mean there's some nervousness, but really, it's nice to feel like this. I don't get worked up over much, so it's pretty pleasant to just feel some intense emotions. It's not that I'm incapable of feeling, I'm just…steady.

Sitting in the large auditorium, meant for play productions and orchestras, I'm surrounded instead by hundreds of freshmen, their combined chatter an unbroken hum in the hall. The atmosphere is infectious—everyone looking forward to new beginnings, achievement, partying… whatever happens to be their priority. Although, due to the rigor of the school, I don't think that anyone who parties too hard will last long here.

Amherst.

My college.

I was a little reluctant to apply, of course, due to that minor indiscretion with the pretty man-boy I met on that jolting airplane two years ago. Yes, it was nerve-racking, embarrassing, and unfortunate, but college is important. There was no way I was going to let an idiotic mistake I made years ago govern where I would and would not go to school. For all I know, Edward could have transferred a semester into his freshman year. If I am good enough to get into Amherst, I should attend. It would be ridiculous, a complete waste, if I compromised my education because I suspected a guy who I was ashamed to show my face to might still be in attendance here. I think. I'll get back to you if I do end up being reacquainted with said person.

So although I was strong enough to stifle my doubts and apply to Amherst, I am still sitting here with exceptionally sweaty palms…and a pained stomach. Undoubtedly, any nervousness I have is not from being away from my parents, but possibly being near the person whom I'd stupidly misled two years ago. I scoff at myself a little. I talk about him like he is a love lost. But he isn't. For that would require him to be interested in me (which he obviously wasn't), on top of having an actual relationship, as opposed to an eventful plane ride. Or was he interested? I've frequently thought about him since saying goodbye—why he'd insisted on us meeting again, his general concern for me, and the way he'd brushed my arm when he walked away that night. I look down at my arms: goosebumps.

Enough. I'm beginning to sound like a cheap drugstore novelist. I am not generally this touchy-feely emotional.

"Excuse me! Excuse me! Everybody—all you adorably clueless freshies—please quiet down and listen up or else you'll be screwed!" A cute and perky upperclassman stands on the stage, waving her arms a little to get everyone's attention. She didn't sound bitchy, just honest. I listen up—I want to start school off right, you know. Be as clueless as possible. I think I'll need all the help I can get.

The girl on the stage gives directions for people to meet at various locations outside the hall, based on last names, alphabetically, as usual. I shuffle along in the sea of confusion, not forward enough to shove people out of the way, and that's how I end up in a group of H's, with my group of S's for "Swan" nowhere to be seen.

"Shit…" I mumble to no one in particular.

"Are you in the wrong group too?" an attractively sweet voice asks from beside me. I look over—and down a bit—into the shining blue eyes of the speaker. She is petite, slender, and obviously friendly by the way she'd spoken to me.

"Um, yeah… I have no idea where my people are…" I laugh a little, nervous.

"Aw, me neither! But that's okay, I doubt it matters. We're just doing icebreakers. I'm Alice," she introduces, thrusting her hand out with a grin. I like her.

"Hi. Nice to meet you. I'm Bella," I reply, shaking her dainty hand.

"Ooo look! There's my roommate! Let's go stand with her!" She drags me over to this intimidatingly gorgeous girl—no woman—who smiles kindly at me, something I wouldn't expect from someone so beautiful. Her name is Rosalie, Rose. Even though she was nothing but nice to me, I could sense that if she didn't like you, you would be—in the words of that advisor in the auditorium—screwed. The three of us chat in the back, participating when needed in the lame activities, but don't really pay attention. They both turn out to be amazing and we make plans to meet up later at the campus cafe. I was sad to learn they weren't in my dorm, but one of the few other dorms on campus. That doesn't matter so much though, because I feel I actually made some friends—something I don't do easily due to my shy personality.

Making my way back to my dorm, my momentary sense of ease from laughing with Alice and Rose leaves me. I haven't met my roommate yet, but from what I know of her, I have a feeling we are very different kinds of people. From the one incredibly friendly introductory email I sent her, she replied with: "don't care about anything about you. your just someone i have to put up with when i sleep. or kick out when i bring guys back. i'm not bringing any appliances so you better." Doesn't she sound just wonderful? I can't believe I'm going to have to spend a whole year with her. Hopefully she'll get kicked out. I didn't tell my parents about the email because I didn't want them to worry and none of us got to see her this morning because she wasn't in the room while I moved in. She was probably off blowing a stranger. Oops, did I say that? Renee and Charlie had gotten a little teary eyed when they said goodbye, but held it together surprisingly well. I worry the most about Charlie, because they're both divorced, but Renee remarried. Charlie's all by himself. But I think he likes being alone, so I guess it's alright. They're staying at Gran's for the night before heading back to their respective states in the morning—Renee to Florida where her husband Phil is, and Charlie back to Washington.

I fidget with my hair while I worry about this, a nasty habit I've picked up since growing it out. I stop abruptly and think for a moment. My hair had been barely longer than chin length when Edward last saw me. And my face has lost more of that youthful roundness, though not all of it, so I look older than I did… I consider. Maybe Edward wouldn't even recognize me if he saw me…My hair is down to between my shoulder blades now. Would that plus two years make me unfamiliar to him? I sure hope so.

Opening the door to my hall, I sigh, preparing myself to meet my complete saint of a roommate. I think I go up the stairs slower than a ninety year old blind man.

Okay. I LOVE COLLEGE. It's been about a week and everything is absolutely amazing. My classes and professors are incredible, except for one rather large math lecture, but I think that's the largest class I'll ever be in. We're reading The Catcher in the Rye in my English Lit class—what a coinkydink. I still have the page Edward ripped from his copy and wrote his contacts on, safely tucked inside my journal of favorite literary quotes. I think I would expect for our incident to tarnish Catcher for me, but it hasn't, something I am very grateful for. I am also grateful that I haven't seen Edward at all, but also pretty disappointed. I can't decide whether it's a good thing or a bad thing.

So yeah, everything about my college experience has been perfect, except for god damn Lauren, my blonde, crack-whore-thin, cigarette and weed smoking roommate. Her personality is just like a fucking field of sunshine and daisies. She spits acid whenever we're in the room together, which is thankfully not often. The first couple of times I'd smile at her, trying so hard to be nice, but she'd tell me to "stop staring, you fat dyke". Yeah…not only is she a complete bitch to me, but she's prejudiced too. I seriously doubt she'd stop to help a crying baby in an abandoned town. To avoid my fantastic roommate, I wake up before she does and get out of there, and I'm asleep by the time she stumbles in drunk or high. Luckily she hasn't brought anybody back yet, but I'm just waiting for that night. I passed her once on the way back from a class and she tried to burn my face off with her raccoon eyes. I avoided going that way the next time.

I haven't complained to Alice and Rosalie about her yet, waving off their concerned questions, but I'm at my breaking point today. She puked on the floor last night in our room and didn't clean it up. I finally did because the rank smell was keeping me up. Unlike her, I wasn't under the influence of other things to keep me unconscious. So when I met Alice and Rosalie in their room this afternoon, I unloaded. With everything I added, their faces grew more and more pissed.

"That FUCKING BITCH!" I guess Rosalie couldn't handle it anymore. It did make me rather smug, knowing Rose is on my side. I would never, ever, ever want to be against Rose in a fight. She'd kick anyone's ass, and not just those of girls. Guys too. "That MOTHER FUCKING HOE BAG! I will make her eat her own puke! Who the fuck would be mean to BELLA?! MOTHER FUCKER!" Rose is a bit like a momma bear. It makes me feel safe.

Alice is a little more composed, but no less enraged. "Bella, seriously, me and Rose will take care of her. Please, let us. Pleeease. She deserves a smackdown sooo bad. She's on her knees and begging for it." The thought of Alice fighting someone is a pretty funny one, due to her diminutive stature. I can just picture her on Lauren's back, one arm choking her, the other bashing her head with a Jimmy Choo and her already spiky hair standing completely on end. I giggle a little.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm and support immensely, but I think I'm going to take care of this myself. Nonviolently."

My friends both pull disappointed faces at me. Rose shakes her finger at me. "If you ever change your mind, we are ready and willing." She does the universal fist pounding motion for beating someone up.

"You two are the first that I would call. Undoubtedly."

We have girl talk for a bit more, chatting about classes and any attractive professors (Alice has one in her Art History class but Rose and I are sadly lacking). The only thing I don't like about my classes is that Rose and Alice aren't in any of them. I did make a friend in my English class though, Angela, a quiet girl from Maine. I think one of the reasons I like talking to her so much is because she actually says "wicked" in a completely serious manner. She says the mosquitoes are indeed awful, LL Bean is pretty amazing and everyone's nice who works there, but she says she hates lobster. I feel like I've expanded my cultural knowledge of my country's regions.

As I walk back to my room for the night, I resolve to give Lauren one more chance. Not a chance for her to be nice, just a chance for her to not do another awful thing that sets me off.

Well she fucking blew it out of the water. I'm now sitting in the library, conveniently open 24 hours, deciding what to do for the night. I could have gone to Alice and Rose's and slept with one of them, I'm sure, but honestly, I was too scared to walk across campus to their dorm by myself. The library is located almost directly next to mine so it was my obvious choice. There are a couple of students in here working, preparing to pull all nighters, I'm sure. Some have mugs of coffee, others have blankets, some have both or none, but all look exhausted and like they don't want to be there. It is three in the morning after all. That's an okay time to be awake if you're partying or doing fun stuff, but not when you're working. I've only had to ever pull one all nighter, because I'm a generally extremely organized and hard working student. The one I did do was pure hell though.

Looking around, I spot a couch. Score! No one's sitting on it because it's too damn comfortable and they'd fall asleep. For me, however, it's just what I'm looking to do. I smile at a tan, built guy sitting at a nearby table on my way over to my makeshift bed and he smiles back. I curl up on the couch, wishing I'd brought a blanket, but happy that it's long enough for me to only have to scrunch my legs up a little bit. I didn't have time to grab anything warm on my way out of my room. Yes, it was only early September, but at nights it gets cold, and the heating isn't turned on in any of the buildings yet. Yelling at myself in my head, I really wish I could be an assertive person, but I'm just such a fucking pushover by nature. I hate confrontation. I mean, I can be stubborn, and I hold true to what I believe in, but I just… can't bring myself to go up against an overbearing person. Which is exactly what Lauren is. So when she crashed into our room, threw a guy on her bed, and yelled at me to get the fuck out, I did. There was no way I was going to get them out and I most certainly did not want to be there for what they were going to do. I'm too tired to think anymore about it though, vowing to go to the housing admin in the morning to get it straightened out. I close my eyes, lie my head down on the cool leather of the couch, and go to sleep.

I open my eyes and am momentarily confused because I am looking at shelves of books instead of a generic dorm room wall. But then I remember that my skanky assed roommate kicked me out last night. I get angry thinking about it. She should actually fear for her life once my two badass friends hear about it. I turn onto my back, stretching, and realize I'm underneath a blanket… But I didn't bring a blanket with me last night. Sitting up to get a more panoramic view of my surroundings, I see the tan guy I'd smiled at last night slumped on the table with his head on the keyboard of a laptop. Did he…? Yes, he totally did. He had a blue blanket with him last night. I have a blue blanket on me now and he doesn't have his anymore. So he must have put this over me last night, right? That's so… thoughtful. Kind gestures are always so much better immediately following another person being absolutely horrible to you.

The guy rolls his head off of his keyboard and onto one of his impressively large and muscular arms. Examining him more closely, he's actually pretty huge—at least 6'4, although it's hard to tell with him sitting and half sprawled across the table. I soon realize that if he's fallen asleep with his laptop still open, he didn't finish whatever he was working on. Shit. There can't be too much worse academically than pulling an all nighter and not even finishing what you'd worked on. So, with this thought, I decide to help him…if I can. I'll have to check it out. Walking quietly up to him, I gently move the laptop away from him. If he has a password for every time it goes to sleep I'm not going to be able to do anything. He doesn't, however.

The document that's up is an analysis essay on Anne of Green Gables. I laugh, thinking how such a masculine guy is reading about a little, freckly, romantic girl. He must be a freshman too, despite his size, because I'd heard all the English profs start their classes off with a short and relatively easy read, although I definitely think Catcher is a bit more difficult than "Anne with an e." But hey, that's just me. Don't get me wrong, I'm totally not hating on Anne, I just… never mind. It isn't really important, is it? What does matter, is that despite my very recent apparent ragging on this book, I've read it multiple times, analyzed it just last year in English, and feel confident in the subject matter. Reading the essay, I understand what the sleeping stranger is trying to prove and he only left the conclusion to finish. Which means I only really have to build off of what he's already said, but conclusions are so important because they're the final statement of the analyst's opinions. I pause and wonder if he'll be angry at me, then wave the idea off, because it'll only be a few sentences and he can always tweak them. It's not like I'm changing things throughout his whole paper. Besides, he's a guy. They don't care about stuff like that as long as they just get it done. Deciding what to write isn't as tricky as I thought it'd be because whoever he is writes in a very straightforward manner, although still very insightful. I pull up a sticky note and drag it beside the finished document, saying thank you for the blanket and that I'd finished his essay as payment, because I know it sucks to not finish after all that work. I fold up the blanket and put it beside the blanket. On a second thought, I realize I didn't check what his name was and look at his essay again to find out: Jacob Black. The hulking man boy doesn't stir, his face relaxed and handsome in his sleep. I wonder if I should wake him, because he could still miss his class even though he'd technically finished his paper. So on my way out, I tell the motherly old librarian about him and she promises to wake him up. I thank her and go back to my room to get dressed. It's still early, so that means Mr. I-fuck-sluts-like-Lauren will still be there. Or not. I doubt anybody wants to stay with her after they've gotten what they want. She snores.

The response I'd gotten from Rose and Alice yesterday was nothing like the one I got from them today at breakfast. I think any table with hearing distance of us was staring. I calm them down, telling them I am going to go work it out with the housing office, but they suddenly both stop, stare, and squeal.

"OH MY GOD, BELLA! You can stay with US!"

"Um… you don't have room."

"Oh, yes we do! As of this morning," Alice states matter-of-factly, wiggling around in her seat, excited as usual. Her faced turns solemn momentarily. "Anna transferred to a school back in her home state. She said her scholarship didn't work out but one did at another school… I don't know. It was all very weird and sudden, and she was acting strange about it. I feel bad though, she was nice. I swear she's involved with the mob, or at least her family is. They're hardcore Italian. Her mobster finance sources probably wanted her closer to home or something so they could keep an eye on her," Alice rambled.

Rose rolls her eyes. "Anyway, what Alice is trying to say is that you can move into her room!" They have a three person suite with a common room. It would be perfect…

"Yes!" Alice agrees enthusiastically, no longer wiggling, but actually now bouncing. One of Rose's arms shoots out to shove her back in her seat by her shoulder, and stays there as a precaution.

"You guys! That would be… amazing. Perfect. Thank you so much."

They wave me off, smiling, and we plan my move.

I think room mate switches are fairly common, because the lady I talked to at the housing office barely blinked. I filled out some paperwork and Bam! Official roommate of Rosalie Hale and Alice Brandon, making us the three amigos, the three musketeers, the sexier Stooges. Even moving my stuff out and then into their place wasn't that difficult, because I didn't bring many belongings.

Relaxing in the common room after everything is moved, my new roommates and I sit sipping on water, watching one of the newer romantic comedies. We collectively squeal and sigh and laugh together—always a good sign with friends. The male lead is brooding and a bit of an asshole, but ends up turning out okay at the end of the movie, of course. How else would he be in a romantic comedy? Women want their happy endings and these kinds of directors give it to them. Early in the movie though, while the male character is still in sexy dark mode, Rose slaps her hand on the arm of her chair.

"It has been driving me crazy this whole time trying to figure out who this guy is like!"

Alice and I look at her, curious and a bit excited. Come on, of course we are at the prospect of meeting a real life version of the perfect man.

"Masen!" she cries, emphasizing the statement with her arms. "He's such a dick, but he's so hot!"

Alice throws her head into the back of her seat and laughs. I, however, am very confused.

"Who's Masen?"