The First Step

Chapter 1.

I set the last cardboard box down to match its twenty some odd identical twins laid out on the dorm carpet. Sweat trailed down my face, the reddish-brown of my bangs sticking to my far too warm forehead. I grabbed my tee-shirt to wipe it off, but then it lay limp and damp against my stomach. A groan escaped out of my throat. That wasn't even the last of them.

"What's the matter? Something wrong with the room?"

I turned to find Dustin in the doorframe, although he looked more like a box with legs, hugging itself with the sleeves of a rich purple jacket. He hobbled into the living room, his foot shaking rapidly beneath him as he rocked forward.

"Dustin!" I shouted, hurrying over to him. The scars on my hands felt hot and taunt as I took the package from him, but I'd take that before I let him hit the floor. "What are you doing? I said nothing over fifteen pounds!"

"I followed it for most of them. It was just the last one, and I figured I'd save you the trip downstairs." He shrugged, making his way over to the pink sheets of his bed. I watched his right foot drag behind him at an awkward angle until he slowly rested it on the blanched, off-white carpet.

"You shouldn't even be going up steps! You should've taken the elevator." I placed the box on the floor next to him, staring into his grey eyes. There was a slight distance to them, like always, but behind that was the steely annoyance that I'd come to accept he had sometimes.

"Sheesh. You sound like Gwen. I'll be fine." He sighed, shaking his blond hair free of the violet hood of his jacket. He raised his eyebrows at me, face blank, but my Empathy picked up the tense tug of frustration in his chest. Behind that was a pool of magik– out of reach– but I could still feel it, my synesthesia connecting it to a single flavor from there. Some days, his was soft and sweet, like a fortune cookie, but right now it was crispy and bold, like a chicken pot pie. Not that I particularly cared which it was at the moment. Dustin was my best friend either way.

"You know it's been years, right?" His voice cut through my thoughts, still calm, quiet, just not the same way it was when his energy tasted differently.

Years. I didn't answer him right away, instead biting at my lip. I mean, of course I knew that. The Insurrection had been in 2089, my sophomore year of highschool. Now it was 2091, a week before college, and yet... I could still feel it. The gun in my hands, the sound of the shot, and blood. So much blood. My fingers trembled.

"Crow."

I jumped, looking up at him. I was standing in an empty room, with beige carpet, white walls, and Dustin watching me warily from a lone couch. So why had it felt any different? A headache pounded at my temples, and I rubbed at my face, trying to clear it. "What?"

A small smirk pulled at his lips. "I'll be fine, all right? I appreciate the concern, but really, don't worry about it. I'm a Sophomore, I did this last year, and I didn't write to the administration to share a room with you because I needed help. I did it because I thought it would be fun to have a roommate for once."

"Didn't you have one last year?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Half his face twitched in a wince. "He... didn't stay long. Or the other ones." Then he shook his head, the smile returning. "But this will be different. We're best buds, and I'm planning on this year being better than the last. Unless you also want to ditch me?"
A hollow laugh pulled out of my chest. "Not a chance."

"All right." He pushed himself off the couch, resting a hand on my shoulder. "Then let's get the rest of the stuff, and I'll show you around campus. Deal?"

I nodded, giving him a smile of my own. "Deal."

☾☆☽

It wasn't my first time around the place. I'd taken a tour of EAC a few months back, with an overly enthusiastic guide and a gaggle of soon-to-be students exploring the halls... but I couldn't exactly say I'd paid much attention. Besides, why would I take the opinion of someone paid to talk about the college when I could get the opinion of someone who paid to go?