As they walked a few doors up to their door, I turned back to my dorm again, sighing sadly and sympathetically at it, it made me a little sad to think people really did this sort of thing, the poor boy in there had to deal with it a lot. I wouldn't mind standing by his side though, I could do that, I wouldn't mind doing that, I had done it before, in fact out of all the people I knew I seemed to be the only one who hadn't been through bullying personally. I had supported my sister, my friends and just classmates who had nobody, I guess it seemed a little weird, especially as I had never experienced it first hand, but I seemed to be good moral support, Jamia certainly managed it very well. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel like I was the same as everyone else and for him to be unhappy, I was happy to try to help him, or just be a friend, unless of course he like me just wanted to keep a low profile, maybe he just didn't want friends at all.
Knocking gently on the door, rather than just bursting in - I didn't want to make a rude first impression - I waited several moments before knocking a little harder, not getting an answer then either. Assuming there was nobody in there I slid my key into the door, seeming not to need it anyway, but letting the door quietly open slightly, giving me the opportunity to slip in carefully, pulling my bags too before closing the door. The room was almost pitch black, meaning I couldn't actually see very much of the place at all, there was just a little light coming from either side of the curtain and through the middle, as well as the bathroom light seeming to be on. Maybe the boy liked to be in the dark, maybe he hated being normal or just hated everything, people possibly included, I wasn't quite sure what, but the room was incredibly dimly lit and it made me wonder about him.
The room seemed to be reasonably sized, with two beds, each with a bedside table, desk and wardrobe each, but only one window and obviously a shared bathroom, but I wasn't even sure we would have a bathroom at all, in Harry Potter they didn't. From the door, it looked as though the room had been almost split in half, the bathroom illustrating the centre line, one half having the door the other having the window. On the left were two single beds, about two meters apart from each other, with another meter between each and the wall to the other side, there was a fair width between the beds and the furniture on the other side of the room. On the right side, there was a wardrobe, then a desk and then a large gap, filled by somebody's bag and some files and books, followed by the bathroom door, which was half open. The other side of the bathroom door was symmetrical to the first, an empty space filled with a bag, a cluttered desk and a wardrobe, which had a suitcase on top.
Standing still in the doorway, I looked between the two sides of the room again, both sides filled with stuff, look very much in use, neither looking like I was supposed to be there, one side tidy, one side...not. Desk nearest the door, had the wardrobe closed and neatly, the desk neatly organised, well laid out and tidy, like you would expect from a perfectionist or someone with OCD, I would personally assume intelligence of some form, the stuff on the floor, was a black rucksack, neatly ordered subject folders, in alphabetical order and height order and then some books. However the window side of the room, that was a whole different story, it definitely was occupied and looked like somebody had been throwing things around frantically, ransacking the room, the desk scattered with papers, bags and folders just dropped carelessly and clothes hanging out of one of the drawers, maybe someone had been in a hurry to get something.
One thing was for sure, I felt very awkward, I had definitely been told room thirteen, the receptionist had double checked and neither Dan nor Phil had questioned it. What made it all the more awkward was the boy sat on the bed nearest the door, he hadn't even seemed to notice me, he had earphones in and was staring down at a book reading intently, I was unsure of whether disturbing him was a good idea or not. Honestly my body was just telling me to get the fuck out of the room, not because I was scared per se, more that the room was clearly occupied and the boy didn't look particularly eager or expectant of a roommate.
Convincing myself not to chicken out, telling myself I never was and never would be a pussy, I scratched the back of my head awkwardly stepping back until I was right up against the door again, we could be friends after all, but not if I never spoke to him. There was nothing wrong with him, not that I was aware of yet, I was judging by his attitude and looks and that was wrong, I was also be stereotypical, which was also wrong and strangely unlike me.
I was completely under the impression he had no idea I was here, that he hadn't heard me, nor had he seen me, although apparently I was very wrong, I was certainly very shocked, when he yanked his earphones out and stared up at me very annoyed. He glanced down at his watch, before looking back up at me and spoke, "You've been stood there ten minutes, what the fuck do you want?" He growled, I may have been being stereotypical and judgemental, but I was getting the impression my stereotyping and judging was very good, as well as the impression we weren't going to be very close.
"Uh," I hummed slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat and straightening up making sure I wasn't cowering away or looking as well...fearful as I was. "Uh, I'm Frank a-"
"Oh, right you." He said looking down his nose and through his glasses at his book again, he said it with such venom, like he was spitting 'me' out of his mouth having chewed me and got a sour taste, he sounded so unimpressed and frankly disgusted.
"Yeah, I'm Frank and-"
"I don't care." He shook his head, not even sparing me a glance as he spoke, he didn't care enough to even look at me, simply looking down on me like I was a flea, it was a horrible feeling but I'd cope, I didn't care much for him if he wanted to be like that, Dan and Phil seemed nice, seemed like I had made friends.
Sighing heavily, a little apprehensive of saying anything about us rooming together, I had a hunch that he already knee, that that was why he had said 'you' so rudely, with such disgust and displeasure, but I wasn't positive. If we were in fact rooming together I could tell I was in for a hell of a year, because he really seemed to have an immediate hate for me, a real distaste even though I had only been in his presence fifteen minutes, it was shocking and a little offensive actually. In the simplest way, I was not looking forward to the tenseness, the awkwardness and undoubtedly the unfriendly environment, I assumed I was going to be spending my time in the next year of my life, I wasn't even sure why he was this way.
What had caused him to so immediately hate me was what I was asking myself, I wanted to believe that maybe I could change it, that he and I could be friends, but something made me think that wasn't going to happen. The best I could imagine for the most part was that maybe he was bullied, maybe he hated his life and just didn't like people, it would explain the words on the door, the way he ignored me when I can in and how Dan and Phil seemed a little...worried about me rooming with him. However the only explanation for bullying I could see so far was his attitude, the way he behaved so venomously and defensively towards me, if that was caused by bullying, how could it be the cause of bullying? He wasn't even unattractive; in fact he was in some ways rather attractive under his hidden attire, his glasses and his very original hair.
His face was rather defined, strong cheek bones and a fairly long thin nose, which his glasses sat at the very end of, he seemed to hold his head high and look down his nose to see through his glasses, not bother pushing them up or anything. He seemed to be fairly dark person, whether that was just a color he liked or he was a dark person in every way, I didn't know, but he had a black shirt, black hoddie and grey jeans and he had the room fairly dark. What did I know of course; maybe he just hadn't bothered opening them yet, after all he was reading - an interesting sounding book, Ecstasy: Three Tales of Chemical Romance. How he could read with his hair styled the way it was though, I didn't know, it was like he had some form of gel and had drowned it in gel, gluing it to his face, two spikes almost in front of each ear and one going down his forehead to the top of his nose, cool but...different.
"Um." I bit my lip hard, letting my bag fall to the floor, looking fearfully between the boy on the bed and the other side of the room, I was fairly uncertain about this, about how to approach it and whether or not that was his stuff or not, although it looked strangely girl like for his dress style. "Look I, uh, is this the right room, because I-"
"Jesus Christ, are you the new kid? The idiot who decided to start upper school at year eleven from the US?" He snapped slamming his book down on his lap, looking up at me momentarily, before rolling his eyes back in his skull and pursing his lips looking down at his book again. I noticed from the way he was talking he seemed to be American too, he certainly didn't sound English, he wasn't European he was either Canadian or American. I mumbled a quiet yes, gathering that he really didn't like me and was either angry at me, or just a generally angry person, I didn't really want to make any noise, I wasn't a scared person, not at all, I just didn't like to make enemies, or cause trouble. "Then yes." He nodded keeping a strong front but sounding morbid and unhappy about it, I wasn't surprised really as he seemed to take a certain hatred to me, but it seemed like something lay under the strong front, something about his dismay to me being here, like he missed someone, maybe his previous roommate.
"Um, I-I'm really sorry," I said lofting my bag and making my way further into the room, I put it down again on the chest at the end of the bed, looking around at the space, every surface seeming to have stuff on it, making me feel uncomfortable and confused, because it was so unlike all his stuff. Looking back up at him again, I spoke again timidly, looking between him and all the stuff, "Is this yo-"
"Don't touch it!" He exclaimed almost angrily but definitely frantically like it was the most important thing to him, ever, if that was the case I was really puzzled as the why it was over this side of the room, the side that wasn't really his. Opening my mouth to speak again, I shut it immediately when he spoke again, shyer, more sad that before. "It's hers don't touch any of it." He demanded it was a little unreasonable that I had to suffer all of my space for someone who wasn't here, more to the point this was a boys room and "her" is a girl.
"Uh," I took a deep breath confused and a little annoyed, looking at him again to see him staring at the pictures and posters on the wall behind me below the window. "I have to uh, put my stuff some-"
"I said you can't fucking touch it," he cried throwing his book onto his nightstand in a state of annoyance, before he walked over the opposite side of my bed, facing me, "I don't know who you think you are, but this will always be her bed, her stuff. Don't, fucking, touch it!" He hissed staring at me angrily, with force and speaking harshly, but his eyes glistening with tears, a look of fear and upset in his eyes as he spoke, before he brushed past me and into the bathroom, swinging the door shut behind him.
Feeling completely and utterly out of place and actually a little hurt, I sat on the edge of the bed my few bags by my feet, my hands in my lap and my eyes wondering aimlessly around the room. My head was struggling to get round this place and I hadn't even been here for an hour, I already had someone who hated me and an uncomfortable living space and a confusing struggle thrown over me. Because my head was begging the question, why the fuck was someone else's stuff in here if this was in fact my room, my unnamed roommate had in fact confirmed this was my room and I was in the right place, only he had told me I wasn't to touch anything, anything in the space that was supposed to be mine?!
Making me even more confused and uncomfortable was the one small thing I noticed in the serious demand he made, 'this will always be her bed, her stuff.' Her? Did he mean his, or was there really a women in here, I was genuinely very confused, I would understand if this was a unisex dorm corridor, but I knew it wasn't, this was a boys dorm corridor and a boys room. In fact I had been specifically told by the receptionist that was strictly forbidden for a boy to be in the girl's dorms, or a girl to be in the boy's dorms. If my acquaintance did in fact mean a girl, not a boy, then I wondered what the fuck her stuff was doing in the boy's dorm rooms, on my bed, because not only should it not be here but she couldn't even come to get it.
Standing up, leaving my bags where they were, and opening the curtains a little so I could actually see properly, I walked over to the desk, staring down at the papers and books strewn across it. Some of the papers were just plain pieces, some drawings - not amazing, mostly messy and unable to be understood - some pages with writing on, only a few were named, all of the named ones were unsent letters. Some of the books were reading books, or revision books, or text books but a few were work books, an English book, a math book, a science book and a history book, all with the same name, female name -Lucy.
Suddenly, scaring the shit out of me and making me jump, the bathroom door flew open and the unhappy looking boy walked out of it, staring at me angrily, his face pink with anger, I could've sworn I saw smoke coming from his ears. "I told you not to fucking touch anything." He yelled at the top of his voice, pushing me out of the way and standing before the desk, looking down at it like I had been.
"I didn't I promise, honest I was ju-" I cut myself off, finishing my sentence but under my breath because I knew he wasn't listening to me, he didn't care, he was just worried about his precious friend's stuff.
"Don't touch her fucking stuff," he said again, weaker and less angry, but clearly still very annoyed. "Ever!" He continued spinning around to face me, staring at me with harsh, angry eyes as he looked down his nose at me.
"Y-yes, sorry." I nodded timidly, staring down at my feet and shoving my hands into my pockets, I swallowed the nagging feeling of homesickness, my stomach with flipping like fucking pancakes on pancake day, but I had no chance of going home now, the only way I was going home early was if I went home in a casket. Coming here was effectively my smart idea and it cost my parents a lot of money, there was no way I was going home, I knew that, the first chance I was getting to go home was Christmas, I wasn't even allowed home for thanksgiving, I was stuck here, where I didn't want to be, rooming with a guy who clearly hated me and a room I could barely even use. "W-why didn't she take her stuff?" I asked, screwing my eyes shut and biting my lip the second I had asked, through fear of him punching me in the face for merely asking, I certainly got the impression that he would happily take an opportunity to punch me.
"Because she fucking couldn't, don't fucking touch it Jesus fucking Christ." He yelled on a real state of obscene anger, gathering all the papers and books in a pile and carrying them over to his desk, sitting them neatly in the corner.
"I- please don't take this personally, or- well I mean- I don't have a problem, I'm just-just asking, i-isn't this a boys dorm?" I asked backing against the wall a little, I really badly didn't want to offend him, upset him or anger him, but something was telling me that that probably would upset him, a lot and I was already regretting asking.
"Y'know," he said calmly and controlled, looking at me with a thoughtful look on his face, "I really fucking hate you, Francesco or whatever the fuck your name is." He growled, sitting on his bed again, just staring down at his book a look of pure disgust on his face. "Close the fucking curtains." He demanded opening his book again and looking down his nose and through his glasses at it, we were certainly not going to be friends that much was clear.
No longer wanting to even risk talking to him, in case he got angry at me, I just nodded timidly, stepping back to the curtains and pulling them closed, sighing and resting my hand on the window frame, just staring for a moment at the black curtains, because I knew I was going to really really regret ever wanting to come here. Really it begged the question; why did I ever want to come here in the first place? The films clearly only ever showed the good part of English boarding schools, not the bad side, the side where actually people are as rude and bitchy as in any school ever. Worst part of this entire thing, was I shared a room with the person who I was happy to assume hated me as much as anyone could hate a person, I could handle people not liking me, or being a little nasty, but I was so clearly never going to be comfortable in this room and that made life real hard.
At the end of the day, I just wanted to go home, home to New Jersey, with my Mom, my Dad, Jamia and my friends, because I already felt unwanted and I hadn't even been here two hours.
Turning away from the window, I bent down to pick my bags up off the floor, I almost put them on the bed, but immediately stopped when the boy, leaped off his bed, demanding me not to again. It was really hard not to be pissed off at him, I was trying so hard not to yell at him back, about the fact that this was my assigned dorm and he couldn't tell me what to do and this wasn't 'her' room anymore, but I couldn't bring myself too. For two reasons, I was actually really not wanting to cause any problems and angering him would just make this entire thing worse, and if he really was so protective over her stuff, when she couldn't come and get it, just maybe, he was grieving for her and if that was the case I really wouldn't want to make it worse.
"Change the sheets." He whispered hoarsely like he was about the cry, as he began to strip the bed, apparently she hadn't even changed the sheets since she went, or more he hadn't, she really must have been and important person to him. I merely nodded and attempted to help him, but he just pushed me away, "Go to the laundry room, they'll have some bed sheets for you." He pointed to the door, waiting for me to leave, which I soon did, slipping out into the corridor, keeping my head down and trying to ignore my head telling me that I was in hell, because I wasn't quite, hell would have millions of spiders following me everywhere too.
Running a hand through my hair I stared at my scruffy shoes as I headed down the corridor and through the double doors leading me to the stairs, with three possible endings; down in the hallway by reception again, across to the other landing to the girls dorms, or back into the boys dorms. Well the laundry room wasn't back in the boys dorm, at the end of that corridor was the boys dorm lounge – which I would probably be steering clear of – and I assumed that was the same for the girls. There was only other option; down to main reception. From the main hallway there were several other doors, to the medical room, to the headmistress's office, the cafeteria, into the main school and one final door which I hadn't originally noticed next to the medical room. Luckily, next to the medical room was a door clearly labelled 'LAUNDRY ROOM', that was where Mikey had sent me, that was where I would go. In fact I got the impression I would be going wherever he told me, simply so I wasn't in the room, something told me I'd be doing what he asked and staying out of the room whenever possible actually, I didn't really want to cause a problem with him.
Sighing and biting my lip, scared to meet anyone else or have to interact with anyone else, I slipped quietly into the room, turning around suddenly when I backed into the wall. Blushing awkwardly and straightening myself out, I ignored the boy stood by the washing machine, just looking around the room in the hopes I would find what I was looking for, although I wasn't having much luck. The whole room was just full of clothing and machines and a table with baskets. Along one wall there were five washing machines, about hip height, one was on and another was being filled by the boy, along the other wall were three more, two driers and then five more driers above. Across the back were a selection of contraptions almost like indoor washing lines and the table, on the drying rails there was a lot of uniform, lots of checker skirts and long songs with white bands – for the girls – and then lines of ties were spread across the table. It made sense actually, that everyone's uniforms were washed together and then collected, but mine was already upstairs so at least I didn't have to worry about that.
That was something I had noticed though, how much scruffier I was dressed than everyone else, my tatty converse and ripped jeans, whilst everyone else I had seen had neat jeans and clean polished shoes. Although maybe that was just because I had only met neat people, or maybe I was just self-conscious, or they had just been to somewhere neat, not that it mattered really, I would be in uniform when I saw most people, nobody would care.
"Can I help you?" The boy asked lifting his empty basket on top of the washing machine, leaving the door open as he turned around to offer me a sweet smile, his long black hair falling in front of his face, which strangely didn't seem to bother him as he leaned against the washer and faced me. I was already a little more confident when I heard his voice, as unlike everyone else – except my roommate – he seemed to be American, I wasn't alone with my accent, because that was one thing which scare me most
"I-I uh-" I started, timid and scared as I was a) new, b) American unlike everyone else and c) socially awkward.
"Oh my God, you're the American boy." He smiled flicking his hair out of his face as his thin smile lit up the room again.
"Yeah, I-I seem to have a bit of a reputation already." I joked light-heartedly, but luckily he actually seemed to find me funny and he did actually laugh along with me, unlike I was expecting.
"Well there are only two others, so it's a new thing to have Americans I guess." He chuckled shrugging, his accent actually making me smile again, he had a rather adorable voice actually, definitely American and definitely something calm and nice to the ears. "So what can I help you with?" He asked his face smiling again when he remembered that he had been asking me if I needed a hand.
"Oh," I bit my lip looking around again, "M-my roommate said I could get bed sheets here?" I asked, relieved when he smiled and nodded, going behind the table, to a basket I hadn't even noticed, rummaging, before standing up and handing me a bed sheet, duvet cover and two pillow cases.
"That okay?" He asked and I smiled widely nodding and taking them from him, blushing awkwardly when I accidentally touched his hand rather than the sheet.
"S-sorry," I mumbled, "Thank you so so much." I smiled awkwardly, backing into the door as I attempted to leave.
Laughing and watching me as he leaned into the washer, finding me amusing, he spoke, "No problem, uh..." He dragged his words out, waiting for me to tell him my name.
"Oh, Frank." I smiled widely again, happy I had actually met someone so genuinely nice, who spoke to me by choice and was seemingly happy about it, he seemed so nice, like Dan and Phil, maybe not so much Mikey, but still.
"Gerard," He smiled back as I turned to actually open the door so I could go back to my dorm and my hormonal roommate, "Hey Frank!" He called at me before I could leave, making me turn back to him curiously. "You uh, you don't have any black you need washing do you? Only my wash isn't full and I don't have any other blacks." He sighed staring down at the half filled washing machine as I smiled sadly and shook my head apologetically, "Don't worry then." He smiled letting me slip of into the empty hall again, I had met three nice people, which was better than none, even if my roommate didn't really like me, like at all.
All I had to tell myself was, Dan and Phil seemed nice, they seemed to like me, I would just stick with them, it wasn't hard, I would stay out if my dorm, do my work and revision in the library, all I needed my room for was sleeping. Mikey may have just shown me a very good reason to keep my head down, because if everyone was anything like him, I really didn't want friends, not to mention I had a single year in private school, then I could go home, a year without friends would be fine. In fact maybe it was even a good thing, to keep my head down, stay in the library do really well in school go home with great grades and everything would be awesome.