Knowing Me, Knowing You | (S/P)

Chapter 1

August 08th. 2017

There's something crushing me. I'm lying on my side, my face mere inches from the wall. I want to turn on my back but I can't; I'm scared to. A lump constricts my throat as I feel his presence in the dimly lit room in the wee hours of the morning, shifting, looming. My heart pounds frantically against my chest and a nauseating feeling invades me as I feel him against my back, the darkness, sucking me in.

My eyes flutter open with a gasp, an immediate feel of my chest being squeezed engulfing me. The skin of my forehead is clammy and the thud of my heart resonates in my ears as I try to make sense of my surroundings. I realize there's a constant beeping noise in the room, and I shuffle under the covers to find my phone.

Turning the alarm off at 07:45 AM, I can't help but groan in frustration. Then, with a calmer heartbeat, I'm able to remember. First day of senior year. Just 150 more class days and I'll be out of this place. I don't mean it in a wrong way; the whole college experience hasn't been that bad on me, and with the friends that I've made, I'm definitely going to miss this place. However, I still feel like I don't entirely fit here, like I am missing something, anything.

I'm naturally what is called a socially awkward person, but not precisely because I'm incredibly shy, but because my words never come out as I intend them to. A total failure for someone who is majoring in languages, mind me. It's just that they have a very clear meaning in my mind, but I've come to realize they're not so obvious or coherent for other people. Anyway, senior year means that I don't have to stress that much about meeting new people and making friends, so there's that too.

I get off the bed, wincing at the cold sensation of my feet against the floor tiles. I'm a coward for chilly weather, and although we're in the middle of summer I cannot, by any means, go to be without wearing a pair of socks. After taking a quick shower and doing my makeup, I wander into the kitchen to get a granola bar and my daily mandatory cup of coffee.

"Are you wearing that?" Danielle, my roommate, asks looking at me from head to toe. That I am so not going to miss. Roommates are the devil. Particularly when they eat your food, or you know, have wild parties at 3AM.

I didn't plan on living in the student's residence the whole four years, though, but it ended up that way. Being just a year away from graduating, I don't see the point in moving out now. Danielle and I were matched up together during the last half of sophomore year, and since both of us refuse to leave -blame in on the balcony overlooking the river- we're stuck together. 

"What about it?" I'm wearing black fitted ripped jeans, paired with a beige crop top and high heel black boots.

Danielle looks at me one more time before exiting the kitchen, ignoring my question. What is her problem? "Good morning to you, too." I murmur to myself.

It is a vivid landscape as I step out of the student's residence and make my way to campus, crossing the street, and into the English Department building. For what it's worth, I am very thrilled about this semester. This year I'll finally be getting the classes I've been looking forward to since freshman year, and that will hopefully lead my way into a good internship program, and furthermore, my ideal career path. 

I take out my phone to look at my schedule once again. As I am doing so, I spot Juliette in the distance.

"Hey, Alex!" She lets out a girly squeal as she walks towards me and engulfs me in a hug, the sweet essence from her hair invading my nostrils. Too sweet.

I met her in my second semester of freshman year; we were introduced by Abigail, my best friend, and have been together in at least one class every semester since then. At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, I like her, just not that much. She's tall, with long, shiny blond hair, comes from a stinking rich family, and it's absolutely everything that I hated back in high school. She's funny and honest, though, so not everything is lost.