It took twenty minutes to find Clarence House and the campus isn't even that complicated. I've bumped into at least thirty people and if that doesn't scream freshman then I don't know what does. Now, I stand in front of a door with a brass 112 above the doorknob. Dad is practically breathing down my neck as I shove my key in the lock and I let out a sigh of relief when I can twist it with no resistance.
"Well, thanks, Dad," I tell him, hoping he'll get the hint and leave. It's not that I don't want him here, but um... Okay maybe I don't want him here.
"Don't need some help, Son?" His expression looks forced, but I see his smile drop when I shake my head.
"I'm okay. I don't have that many things to move in," I say, gesturing to the lonely suitcase resting at my ankles.
"They're having tea for the parents in fifteen minutes. You should go."
"You're so grown up, now," he whispers, and then turns to leave.
I don't bother to ponder what he means by grown. Not wanting him trailing me the whole day wasn't meant to be an insult. I shake my head. I'm not letting him do this, he's already made it clear that he doesn't want me here. Even with the free ride, he found at least fifty reasons why I shouldn't go. And I fought them all. Every. Single. One.
I pull open the door to the dorm room, step inside, and shut it behind me. I let out a breath. This campus is–
"Suffocating," a voice says behind me. I startle as I come face-to-face with a boy with light brown skin and dark curly hair. His dark brown eyes are trained on me and he looks scared? Nervous? "It's not just me, right? This campus is kind of suffocating. Like there are so many people and tall buildings. I'm sure it won't always be like this. I think it's the parents; they're taking up a lot of space."
"Yeah," I say, kind of shocked that he just read my mind. "It's not just you."
"Dimitri," he says, shaking out his hand like some young politician.
"Carter."
"Landon." Dimitri and I turn to see a blue-eyed boy with dirty blonde hair. I don't know what it is about him, but he seems older than fourteen or fifteen. He's wearing a black sweat set with at least four holes in the pant legs. "I call the single bed. I have early morning practices. Football."
"Yeah?" Dimitri says, "Well I have early morning... Classes."
Landon snorts, "Yeah, I figured." He doesn't wait for us to say anything else, and he plops three suitcases onto the single bed, already unpacking his athleisure into a dresser.
"Well I'm not taking the top bunk because..." Dimitri stops to think. "Whatever, I just want the bottom bunk."
I don't protest because I'm sure he was just to admit that he's deathly afraid of heights or something. I drop my suitcase on the ground and begin filling my drawer. I've started pulling out a singular picture of Conner and I when a pillow hits the base of my neck, followed by a pack of something that feels like nails.
"Ow! What the hell?" I snap, picking up the package. Not nails, but hooks.
"Put those up by the door, will you?" Landon says, going back to organizing his dresser.
"You could've handed them to me," I roll my eyes.
"I–" he starts, but a pillow nails him so hard in the back of the head that he falls face first onto his dresser drawer.
"Got him," Dimitri smiles.
"You son of a–" and, once again, Landon can't finish the sentence because a tall, bald man walks into the room. I recognize him from the emails I've received over the past few months. He's our dorm parent: Mr. Lee. And right now he's deadpanning Landon.
Dimitri, Landon, and I exchange a look. "Hi, Mr. Lee," I say, and Landon lets out a silent sigh of relief.
Mr. Lee asks us how we've been settling in, and when he leaves, the three of us look at each other and fall into a puddle of breathless laughter. That's when I knew I would never need new roommates again; I knew these boys would be my best friends forever.
As I stand, leaning against a stall door in the boy's washroom, I'm beginning to wish that I never befriended these idiots. One idiot in particular. It's midnight and in eight hours I have to be in math class. Juniors aren't even allowed to be out of their rooms after 11:30 pm, so if we get caught we're screwed. I've tried to tell Landon this–many times–but clearly he's out of his damn mind and is hoping his stupidity will drag us down with him. Dude is literally psychotic; he stole our keys so now we can't get back into the dorm without him. Dimitri has spent the last thirty minutes cursing him out, but Landon has only shushed him, saying we'll get caught if Dimitri keeps speaking in his loud-ass voice.
"You know we'll get kicked out if we're caught," I try to reason with him. "No football. No college scholarship. You're screwed."
I see a tiny flash of panic on his face, but he swallows it down. "Then don't get caught."
Landon is convinced that, as juniors, we are obligated to attend Daniel Pratt's annual back-to-school party. He's a senior now, but his brother used to throw one with his friends every year. The Pratt home is only a five minute walk from FP; I'm pretty sure his mansion in the woods is the only house within a two mile radius of this place. We have a city with a few apartments nearby, but no houses with actual garages and backyards.
"This is the dumbest thing we've ever done," Dimitri grumbles. "We can't even drink. You can't sleep off a hangover in three hours."
"I know," Landon says. "You don't need to drink to have fun at a party."
"You only say that because you've gone cold turkey for the football season."
I'm getting tired of listening to them. "Okay, shut up. Landon's an idiot. And idiots go first." I point toward the window above the handicap stall. It's a small drop since we've already managed to get to the first floor. The window is always covered with a thick blind, which they installed when a student got locked in the bathroom for an entire day. It was stupid, but they thought this small crank-open window would solve the problem, should the issue occur, again. I would've told them just to break the damn door down, again.
Dimitri is staring at me with wide eyes, outraged that I'm even going along with this. "He's not going to let it go" is what I tell him as a response.
Landon grabs onto the beige stall wall and hoists himself up in front of the window. "Careful, Superstar," Dimitri snorts.
Landon mumbles "shut up" as he pulls the blind up and cranks the window open. I feel the cold night air hit me, and that's when I remember: Oh, yeah, it's fucking winter. Landon doesn't seem to mind, and pulls himself through, hanging on the window ledge before he drops down and, I assume, presses his back against the grey brick walls of Clarence House. We don't have many security cameras near the back of campus, but a lot are planted at the entrances and exits, so we make sure to avoid those. Dimitri climbs out next, complaining the whole time, and then I drop down beside him. The impact jolts through my ankles and up through my legs, but I steady myself against the wall.
"That way," Landon whispers, pointing, in the dark, at the clearing between the trees that line campus. Our dorms are fairly close to the edge of campus, which sucks for getting to classes, but apparently not for sneaking out at night.
We pull our hoods over our faces, and as we run I spot a group of girls sneaking out of their dorms, probably going to the same place. The parties are usually full of day students because they won't get in deep shit with anyone but their parents for leaving in the middle of the night, but there are always a few boarders that are up for the challenge, or they just don't give a shit about their education.
When we're off campus, we stop talking in hushed tones, and Dimitri is practically screaming at Landon. Landon ignores him, and just announces directions every minute.
It's so dark and cold outside, my hoodie doesn't even stop goosebumps from forming. I resist the urge to tell them to stop yelling because, while we may be off campus, we're still a bunch of 5'10" to 6'4" teenagers running through a forest. There's a light layer of snow on the ground and I hear it crunch under our feet every few steps. I stare ahead at Landon and Dimitri, quickly regretting my decision to look around. I try to disguise my heavy breathing because if they ask what's wrong and I have to admit to them, once again, that I'm scared of the dark, I wouldn't be able to take their polar bear nightlight jokes. Not even the glittering stars can distract me from the darkness that engulfs us. Besides, stars just distract you from darkness. If they didn't, you wouldn't realize that the night sky can swallow you up any second.
I have all of my attention focused on Landon's hoodie–the same one he wore when we first met three years ago–when he speaks. "There it is."
We're standing a few feet away from the driveway of a gigantic white house. There are five cars parked in the driveway (three red and two black), and I don't need to worry about the darkness anymore because light is flooding from the porch lights and windows. The garage door is slightly open: a clear entrance into the party, as well as the fact that the iron gates in front of the house aren't closed. Landon walks toward the garage, placing eight fingers under the door and pulling it up. The music is pumping throughout the entire house when we turn the knob of the white door in the tidy garage. We're greeted with colourful lights spinning around the halls and, when we reach it, the living room. It's more crowded than I anticipated. I can't help but let my guard down know that we're actually here. I don't mind a good party.
"Told you this would be sick," Landon bellows over the music, clearly noticing my relaxed composure.
"I'm getting a drink," Dimitri says, trying to find his way to the kitchen.
"You can't drink," I call after him.
He flashes his middle finger as a response. I don't think he'll actually drink alcohol. He cares too much about his future to be caught with bloodshot eyes in English class.
We walk into the living room, where people are dancing, bodies pressed against each other. Some guy and a girl with red hair are making out on the couch, and I recognize her from math class. She's a varsity volleyball player, and with the way Landon is eyeing her hungrily, I'm sure he knows that, too. Without even a word, he begins to stride across the room toward them.
"You're a dick," I say, rolling my eyes. He only flashes me a toothy smile.
I watch as the exchange goes down. He shoves the guy away from the girl, saying something to him while he screams, "What's your problem?" Landon ignores him and steps over him to plop down onto the couch. He stands the girl between his legs, and he doesn't even need to say anything before she's staring at him, her lips parted and a piece of hair wrapped around her finger. That's all the confirmation Landon needs before he's pulling her down onto his lap and guiding her face towards his. I turn away from the make out session.
Before I can move away from where I'm standing, Tyrone makes a beeline towards me, bellowing "Carter" at the top of his lungs. I wouldn't necessarily call myself popular, but everyone seems to know me. Quite a few girls hit on me, and I'm saying that as an observation, not a flex, and whether I'm proud of it or not, I usually give in. I don't act like Landon, who'll get with any girl, taken or not, but I don't mind hanging out with a girl at a party or in the halls of FP. If it doesn't stop me from remaining above a 4.0 GPA, then I say fuck it. Just no relationships, which I'm pretty everyone knows by now.
"Hey, Ty," I say, accepting the drink he holds out to me, but not bothering to drink it.
"It's ginger ale," he says.
"Sure," I nod, handing off the drink to someone who claps me on the shoulder.
"Ugh, you're still the same Carter," Ty sighs. "Obsessed with being a good school boy and shit."
"You got it." I've known Ty from track for two years.
"The girls eat it up," he smirks, angling his head toward a group of sophomores staring at me. I smirk at them and run a hand through my messy hair.
"All except one," I reply, thinking about Sadie in the dining hall yesterday.
"Make it three. I'm sure those friends of hers are on her side."
"Oh, yeah, definitely."
"Sucks for you." He takes a sip of his drink, "She's hot."
I stare at him, feeling this weird heat rush through my veins. I don't know why I'm mad; I know she's hot. She's got these large eyes that she lines with shimmering eyeliner, and these pink, plush lips that I've had the luxury of feeling against my ear more than once. Her long hair is silky smooth, regardless of the number of times she's dyed it. And her body, it– it suits her. You know, lean, but curvy, and she's pretty tall, too.
"Yeah," I mumble. "I guess." Suddenly I'm not just feeling the heat in my veins.
I mumble some sort of goodbye to Ty, as I try to locate Dimitri. I find him pretty quickly, slumped against some guy. Not drunk, but sleeping. I slap him on the shoulder.
"What? WHAT?!" I laugh as his eyes dart around the room.
"It's me, doofus," I tell him.
"Are we leaving, yet?" He whines, and I laugh because he sounds like a five year old during a long car ride.
"Yeah. Let's find Landon."
Finding Landon, it turns out, is harder than we thought. He's no longer on the couch and I really hope he's not locked in a bedroom somewhere because I'm not going upstairs to look. This house is huge, but I thought if I ask around enough someone would tell me where he is. No luck. It's only an entire hour later–we gave up on looking for him after a while–that we spot him in the backyard, leaning against the side of the house, still making out with the redhead. Dimitri looks disgusted, but I'm guessing it's because he's tired, since this certainly isn't odd behaviour for Landon.
"Hey, Superstar," I yell. "Get your ass over here!"
He breaks apart from the girl–who he has crushed against the wall–and gives me a look of pure abhor. He says something to the girl, smashes their lips together one last time, and then walks over to us.
"Gross," Dimitri says.
"Oh, shut up. Like you'd wouldn't do the same thing, given the chance, with Angie." Dimitri goes pink.
We climb in through the bathroom window at 3 am. Finding the way to campus was surprisingly easy, apart form the fact that the sky had darkened even more in our absence. I'm the last to hoist myself through the bathroom window, so I take the liberty of shutting it and pulling down the blind. There's only one security camera on every floor of Clarence House, so it's not too difficult to avoid them. Nobody is up this late the night before the semester resumes. When we reach our dorm, I think I'm about ready to pass out from exhaustion.
"Shit, I can't find the key," Landon gasps, patting around his pockets.
"Are you kid–"
Landon snorts, "Relax." He pulls all three of our keys out of his pocket and hands one to me and one to Dimitri, "See? I got them."
Not even a second after Landon opens the door, Dimitri races over to the top bunk and falls asleep fully clothed. I climb into my bed after stripping off my sweater. Landon doesn't seem that tired, so he takes his time changing into a muscle tank and plaid PJ bottoms. And right before he falls down on his bed, he says, "Don't forget to turn your nightlight on CarCar."
"Shut up. That's only for when I sleep alone."
"Don't worry; we're not going anyway." I don't know why he says it, but he's already snoring softly into his pillowcase before I can think about it.
I have to be up in three hours.
...
A/N
I realized that I haven't done an Author's Note for the last three chapters, so...
This chapter kind of worked to provide some detail on the dynamic between Carter and his friends.
I still haven't settled on what the chapter lengths should be, so as of right now just except some to be fairly long and some to be like a thousand words. I love short chapters, but I don't want to make them too short because it's rivals to lovers dual POV that, you know, needs time to progress.
Next chapter coming soon...
Thank you for reading!