Dancin' with myself.

"Mom! I got this! You can go home now!"

[insert my mother squawking at me.]

Of course, she needs to make a fuss over my moving into my dorm.

It's what she does best.

Honestly, I love her to death, but sometimes I wish I could mute her.

Finally I get her to leave me be.

I have all my boxes and bags in my room, I just need to unpack.

Now, I'm the kind of person who always has to have music playing.

So I find my radio, plug in my iPod touch, and go to town unpacking.

I take the left side of the room, the one I'm used to being on.

I loft the bed that they give us as high as it will go.

I don't plan on using it.

I do put a mattress cover on it and throw some pillows up there.

Then I take my futon and slide it under the lofted bed.

So it's like double-decker seating.

Though I'll sleep on the futon.

I like to sprawl, and twin long sized beds are just not good for sprawling.

I fix up the futon with pillows and blankets then push my desk up against the windows and unpack all of my desk items.

This includes my billions of sketchbooks, markers, pencils, and anime/chibi drawing books.

Then I unpack my clothes.

And sooner than I would've thought, I'm done.

I collapse on the futon, my favourite song coming on.

Immediately I'm back up, dancing around the room.

Forgetting that the door is open.

And that my obnoxious neighbor Benny is moving in next door.

"Do you mind?"

I halt all motion.

[gulp.]

"Benny, get out of here! Don't you have better things to do than creep in my doorway?" I ask, glaring at him.

He raises an eyebrow.

"Not when I have to listen to your music on full volume, Miss Millie."

Oh.

"Sorry."

[is really not sorry.]

"I see you're all moved in. Think you coulda been any louder lofting that bed?"

I glare.

"Think you coulda maybe offered some help, Mr. Six-foot-two?" I bite.

"Hmm, nope. Actually, I was wondering if you'd help me out… I can't get my mattress cover to stay on."

I roll my eyes.

"Flip it so the short sides are the other way. You know, lined up with the shorter sides of the bed. If that doesn't work, I know the nearest clown college; I can have you enrolled rather quickly."

He leers at me and says, "You know, you could try being a little nicer, Mills."

"I could. But then, I could not."

"You seem to have no problem being a bitch, that's for sure…"

[do not punch him.]

[do not punch him.]

[do not punch him.]

"Go away. And try not to let your mattress outsmart you."

He chuckles, "Is this how it's gonna be all year? Really? I didn't get a single room so I could listen to your music and tv all day, every day."

"And I didn't get a single room so that you could stand in here and bitch at me about something that's not going to change. So good day to you sir."

And I slam the door in his face.

[smirk.]

I hear his door slam in obvious anger, and I feel glad that we have 2 weeks to get used to each other before anyone else on our floor moves in.

He's in marching band also.

And he plays the trumpet.

Of course.

He's a sophomore also.

And he's one of those lanky skinny tall guys.

Dark brown hair, always messy, kinda long.

Blue eyes, filled with evilllll.

Pale, probably from too many hours playing video games.

Annoying as hell, but I bet you already can tell.

Anyhow.

So I sit back down, turn the music off, and take out my trumpet.

Now.

I taught myself the trumpet over the summer.

And I'm decent, it's not bad.

But I am loud.

[teehee.]

And I like it that way.

It's pretty awesome.

Considering that most of our trumpet players are awful.

[including Benny.]

So I start to play, softly at first.

But once I get into it, I travel to a forte.

Then a double forte.

[that's loud.]

And who do you think interrupts me?

"Millie!"

[door slams open.]

"Yes?"

[looks up.]

"It's 10 p.m.!"

[seethes.]

"So?"

[shrugs.]

"I'm trying to sleep, we have band tomorrow!"

[yells.]

"Oh."

[sets down trumpet.]

[door slams shut.]

[bedtime.]