Lying on her back, Kate stared at her bedroom ceiling. It was white. No surprises there. Staring at it, she found that it was smooth, like it had been painted. Her last bedroom ceiling had had those stupid little flaky bits that had fallen whenever anything had gotten remotely close to it. For some reason, thinking about her old bedroom ceiling, and her old bedroom, and her old house, made her a little bit sad.
It wasn't that she missed her parents. No, they were two people she could do without. It wasn't even that she missed her old house, or her old room. It was that, no matter how hard she tried, she hated change. She just wanted everything to be the same.
Lightning flashed outside and Kate counted the seconds until she heard the thunder. Eight. The storm was moving away. Her mind relaxing, Kate allowed her mind to wander. Not surprisingly, it wandered straight to the boy's arrival not long ago.
After his initial outbreak, the boy had stared sullenly at Locke, waiting for a response. When Locke only nodded to himself, and extended a hand, saying, "Papers, please, Mr. Ford," the boy looked somewhat disappointed.
He extracted papers that looked nearly identical to her own and handed them to Locke. As Locke did the same thing he had done for Kate, the boy hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and began to whistle.
Standing in the middle of the hall, she felt somewhat uncomfortable, but resisted the urge to retreat. The need to run, which was almost elemental to her, flared up more often then not. Instead, she tried to figure out what tune he was whistling, but couldn't recognize it.
"What's your name, Freckles?" She turned to shoot a look at him, and he sent her a lazy smile that made her heart skip.
"Kate," she responded after a pause. The only sounds in the room were Locke clicking on the computer and the rain pounding outside. "What's yours?"
"James. But call me Sawyer," he told her, a dark look crossing his face.
She tilted her head, curious. "Why Sawyer? You like Mark Twain or something?"
He laughed softly, shaking his head. "Not exactly."
"What? Is it something your parents made up?"
"My parents are dead."
Silence once again overcame the room. She had no idea what to say. Should she say anything, or was he the sort of person who preferred you said nothing. Would 'I'm sorry' be too superficial? She wasn't really sorry; she hadn't known his parents, and she didn't know him. Should she change the topic? Should she make a stupid joke?
Fortunately, Locke stood up at this moment and announced, "Your roommate is Charlie Pace. He had already arrived, and is in the dining hall at the moment."
"Great," Sawyer said, without any enthusiasm. "Where's my room?"
"You're in room forty-two, which is up two levels and to the right." Locke came around the desk. "Classes start tomorrow morning. Your homerooms will be posted on a notice board here, in the main hall, and you will receive your timetables in that class. Breakfast is served from six-thirty until eight-fifteen. You must be in your homeroom by eight-thirty." He smiled at each of them, and Kate smiled hesitantly back. "There will be a list of school rules in each of your rooms."
Locke had then made a move to carry Kate's suitcase up the stairs, but she leapt in front of him. "I've got it," she assured him, readjusting her duffel bag and grabbing the handle of her suitcase. "Thanks."
"Okay. Well then, good night, James, Kate." Leaving them alone, Locke exited through an obscure door to their left.
Kate dragged her suitcase to the bottom of the steps and started to carry it up. It was wrenched out of her hands a few seconds later, however, and she looked up to see Sawyer carrying her own suitcase, and his, past her and onto the landing. What was with all the guys here? Did they all think she couldn't carry a suitcase? Making a face to herself, she quickly jogged up the remaining steps.
"Thanks," she said, giving him a smile.
"Night, Freckles," he replied, continuing up the stairs.
"Night," she echoed.
She had pulled her stuff down the hallway, until she wound up at room twenty-three. Then, she'd unceremoniously dumped her clothes in some random drawers, tossed her cosmetic bag into the adjoining bathroom, and fallen onto the bed, expecting to fall asleep right away.
Yet, here she was, nearly two hours later, still wide-awake.
It was almost nine o'clock. She knew that dinner had finished downstairs from the increasing noise outside her room. It was growing darker and darker outdoors each minute and the rain showed no signs of letting up.
Annoyed with herself, Kate sat up in bed and leaned against the headboard. She reached up and twisted her long, brown curls on top of her head, then let them fall around her shoulders.
The noise in the hallway suddenly escalated and Kate hopped off her bed, curious. The words sounded foreign to her ears, but the tone was very clear. Someone was angry. Huddled by the door, Kate put her ear near the crack, as though that would allow her to hear more easily.
The door suddenly swung open and, cursing the person on the other side, she leapt back to avoid getting hit in the head. A Korean girl stormed into the room, shaking her head and muttering under her breath. She yanked a suitcase in behind her and slammed the door.
Kate watched as the girl stalked to the other bed. She flopped down on it, looked around the room, and finally noticed Kate standing near the door, her mouth hanging open.
"Oh. Hello." The girl, who Kate assumed was her roommate, sent her a hesitant smile. "I am Sun."
Unsure of what had just happened in the hallway, and where all of her anger had gone, Kate introduced herself, and then sat down on her bed. "So, you're from Korea, right?" When Sun nodded, she continued talking. "Are you just here for school, or did you move here?"
"We are just here this year for school."
We? Kate wondered. "Who's we?"
Sun opened her mouth, either to respond or yell, but a knock at the door interrupted their conversation. The door opened and a blonde poked her head in.
"Hi," she said in a bored voice. "Can I come in?"
Kate shrugged. "Sure."
The girl stepped into the room, leaving the door open behind her. "I'm Shannon Rutherford. I'm supposed to welcome you and whatnot. So, welcome."
She sounded so bored that Kate wondered why anyone would choose such an uninterested person to be the welcoming committee. Shannon leaned against the doorframe and examined her nails, waiting for a response.
Kate stared at her for a moment before uttering, "Um, thanks."
"Thank you," Sun said, pushing hair behind her ears.
Shannon peered at Sun, then exclaimed, "Hey, you were the one who was arguing with that crazy Korean guy. Is her your boyfriend or something?"
A faint blush tinged Sun's cheeks. "Or something," she agreed, ducking her head.
Shannon pursed her lips. Kate, unsure of what exactly that meant, said, "Well, we should get to bed."
Sun got up from the bed and began fussing with her things. Kate smiled at Shannon, who gave her a snooty look.
"Sure," the blonde replied easily, "I'll let you get to bed. If you need anything, just find me." She said all of this in a tone that told Kate if she ever tried to find Shannon, she wouldn't be welcome. "I'm right down the hall."
"Great."
Shannon let herself out, Sun slipped into the bathroom and Kate found herself alone for a moment. She took a deep breath, sighed, and fell back onto her bed.
This time, she was asleep in minutes. Not even the insistent pounding on the door some hours later could wake her.