You Drive Me Crazy!

One

I pulled up in my overly-packed, silver-and-black Mustang, anxious to see if my friends recognized me. Walking through the sliding front doors, I strode to the front desk, looking around at the decor.

"Can I help 'ya, hon?" She looked like the grandmotherly type.

I smiled, looking at her over the rims of my sunglasses. "Yes. I'm Bakura Ryou..." (A/N: Remember, they say their names backwards in Japan)

She typed in a few letters on her computer, and then looked back up at me. "You're in room 513, Mr. Bakura. That's in building 2. Here's your key."

"Thank you." I strolled back out to my Mustang, drove to building 2, and lugged fifteen cardboard boxes up three flights of stairs to the door with the golden numbers: 5-1-3.

Panting, I twisted my key in the lock, shoved open the door, and dragged my boxes inside, not closing the door behind me. "Ug! I'll need to spruce it up a bit."

The walls were a pasty yellow, the paint cracking and peeling. Ugly, hunter green carpet covered the floor--but this wasn't the luscious kind. There was absolutely no pieces of furniture in the small dormitory, apart from the dresser and two identical beds.

I glanced down at the sheet of paper in my left hand. "Who's my room mate?" I wondered to myself. "Hmm. Doesn't say."

"JERK!!" came the yell from outside the open door. "YOU RABID EGYPTIAN!!"

I whirled, leaping out of the room and slamming the door behind me. "Wha--? Joey?"

The golden-haired Joey Wheeler suddenly appeared, vertically challenged Yugi Muto at his side.

"Joey, control yourself!" Yugi reprimanded, looking reproachfully up at his tall friend.

I waved. But they didn't see me.

Joey glared back over his shoulder. "I don't care, Yug. He's still a punk!"

"Joey! Yugi!" I cried, watching as they noticed me, relishing in their double-takes.

Joey's amber eyes were wide, his golden eyebrows arching in two perfect semicircles on his forehead. "Ryou?! Is that really you? You look totally different!"

"I'll say! You look good, Ryou." Yugi hurried over to me, his grin spanning the width of his lower face.

I pointed at my leg-hugging, faded denim jeans, ice blue T-shirt, and designer sneakers. "This is what you get when you put me in a whole summer of boredom with all of my father's money," I told him, studying Yugi over the rims of my sunglasses.

"Wow...!" was all he could say.

"Watch this." I closed my eyes and flipped my ponytail over my shoulder, making the golden ring through my ear jingle. "I can't help it if the ladies love me!" I said arrogantly, putting my hand on my hips regally.

Yugi laughed. "You look just like Duke!"

"I've been practicing."

"Outta my way!"

My chocolate eyes flashed open. "Malik?"

The sleek, panther-like blond Egyptian strode past, receiving murderous glared from Joey. Malik Ishtar paused and looked down. "Nice pants, Ryou."

Mine were made of denim; his of black leather.

"Punk!" Joey snarled, his eyes shooting daggers at the eighteen-year-old foreigner.

Malik looked over his shoulder haughtily. "So? Whatcha gonna do about it, Wheeler?"

The darker blond just glowered and muttered curses under his breath as he stormed away down the hall, Yugi following like a well-trained puppy.

The violet-eyed Egyptian glanced down at the paper in his hand. "Let's see... room 513..." he said, looking at the door.

"513...?" I stammered, hardly believing my ears.

His lavender eyes glittered at me. "Yeah. Is there an echo in here, or something?"

"N-no." I gulped. "It's just that, I'm in room 513--we're room mates?!"

Malik smiled at me over his tanned shoulder as he waltzed into our room. "Oh, good. You're used to living with psychos!"

"No!" I was still incredulous.

"So, roomy," Malik said, "got any good music?"

I watched Malik unpack his possessions--exotic-looking clothing, a large CD player, his very vast collection of CS's, and small golden Egyptian-like figurines.

"Watcha doin'?" he asked, looking over my shoulder.

I snapped my laptop shut. "Nothing!" I said quickly.

He cocked his head to the right, resembling a very large, mocha-colored kitten. "It looked like writing to me."

"It was nothing, Malik." My tone told him that the conversation was over. He didn't listen to my voice.

"You're an author, aren't you?" Malik said quickly, grabbing for my laptop.

I jerked the computer out of his reach. "Maybe."

He grinned wolfishly. "You are. When Ishizu says 'maybe' it, mostly, means 'yes'. Lemme see!"

"No."

"Fine!"

I flared at hime. "Did you know that you're too smart for your own good?"

His grin widened. "Straight A student through elementar, middle and high school--hopefully college as well." Malik made another lunge for my lpatop.

"Stop!"

Cocking his blond head again, the kitten-like expression came into his eyes once more. "Why?" he asked angelically, making his eyes wide and innocent--as if Malik Ishtar could be considered "innocent"!

I felt my glare grow cold. "Because I said so."

He arched a thin eyebrow. "Oh? And since when have you become the boss of me?"

"Whatever!" Throwing my hands into the air, I slammed my laptop onto the desk, stood up, and jumped into my bed, pulling the covers over my head.