Trevor
The sun shone brightly, heating up the hallway as if it was a greenhouse. The damaged wheel on my suitcase made it difficult to get it past the throng of sweating students that was filling up the corridor but I stubbornly kept going and readjusted the bag on my shoulder.
My dad asked me to transfer to Fall Boarding School only a month into the semester. The official reason was that the school had a very good reputation, but the real reason was that I had had a falling out with his wife and could no longer live in a house with her.
So here I was, lost inside a new school, and already exhausted. The walk from the train station was much longer and hotter than it had any right to be in the beginning of October.
I finally got clear of the mass of students and thought myself free at last, when a boy came running straight into me and knocked the bag off my shoulder, making me drop my suitcase from the sudden shock. I muttered a fair number of French swearwords, but the boy didn't even turn his head to say sorry.
"Please forgive him," a calm voice called from above. "Here." I straightened, having picked up my suitcase, and took my bag from the stranger's hand.
"Thank you," I said to the chest in front of me.
The boy snapped his fingers in front of me and said, "my eyes are up here." I looked up at the tall boy's face and smiled.
"Sorry," I said sheepishly. He winked back.
"You're welcome." The boy started to walk away.
"Hey, you!" I called, "I'm kind of new here and not quite sure where to go, could you -"
"Of course! Sorry, I should have known. I'm Raymond Nichols."
"Trevor Jaxon," I replied and shook his hand.
"Yes, I know - You're my brother's new roommate." As he said it, four boys clad in football gear were coming towards us, running down the corridor.
"Coming?" one of them asked, giving the boy beside me a lingering look.
"In a bit, I have to help this one first."
"So you're on the football team then?" I asked as I followed behind Raymond.
"Eh, no, I'll just be watching the practice. I'm in high hopes that the captain will be taking off his shirt due to the nice weather," he said.
"Oh..."
We turned right, and Raymond led me straight into an office without knocking on the door first.
"Good day headmaster!" he said cheerfully.
"Mr Nichols, how many times do I have to tell you to knock on my door?" the grey man behind the desk looked at Raymond sternly, but the boy didn't even flinch.
"At least one more time, sir, as always." There was a brief pause. "Here is Trevor Jaxon for you, sir. Just give him his papers and we'll be off." A muscle in the headmaster's face twitched, and it was not the one used for smiling. Even though he obviously didn't like Raymond's commanding tone, he welcomed me, handed me some papers and a key card, and ushered us out of the room.
"You're in 225, a couple of doors away from me, in 219." I nodded and followed the brisk pace of the other boy with some struggle.
Soon enough we were outside my new home, and Raymond turned to look at me with an expression that was suddenly very serious.
"My brother is a very special person..." he started. "Things have been difficult for him, and I just want to ask you to be patient with him. Most people don't like him – actually they dislike him to some extent. I'm not asking you to like him, just to not give him a hard time. He is an absolute arsehole, but maybe you can ignore him, and mind your own business. It's nothing personal from his side, it's just how he is." I didn't know what to say to that, but after an affirmative nod of the head, Raymond left me outside room 225.
"By the way, football practice is at eight in the morning tomorrow!" Raymond yelled over his shoulder.
* * *
Charlie
The beeping sound of an accepted key card pulled me out of my thoughts.
"May I come in?" Trevor Jaxon asked.
"You already have," I said without lifting my eyes. He hadn't moved from the door. "How did you like France this summer?" I asked after a quick look at him.
"How did you know...?" He stared at me stupidly.
"From your tan line and your middle name. It doesn't really get more French than Alexandre. Either you visited your mother, or you went with her, depending on whether she moved back after divorcing your father." I sprang up and took the bag off his shoulder.
He had a perplexed look on his face and blinked a couple of times before following my example and put his suitcase down by his bed.
"So... you're like Sherlock Holmes or something?" he asked.
"Who is that?"
"A genius."
"Oh. Then no, I just put two and two together. I got a paper with the names of your parents, including that of your father's new wife. It would be logical that you spent your summer with your mum as you live with your dad, and also that you went to France as half of your family is there. Your obvious tan was enough proof that you've indeed been abroad."
"Oh."
"See, not a genius." Trevor obviously didn't know what to say to that.
"Anyway, I'm Trevor Jaxon." He sighed. "But you already knew that. Hi!"
"Charlie Nichols." I grabbed his hand and shook it. "Have a seat, you look exhausted." He smiled gratefully and fell onto his bed, leaning back against the pillows.
"So, you're Raymond's brother?" Trevor asked as I picked my book back up.
"Twin, younger by five minutes."
"Oh, I thought he was a year older." I didn't answer, but concentrated on the advanced physics I was trying to decipher.
"I'm so anxious to start on Monday!" He blurted out. "It's strange, usually I'm very confident, but now... I don't know what to do! I don't know anybody, I haven't -"
"Stop whining. People like you have no problem getting accepted," I said rather sternly.
"What do you mean 'people like me'?"
"You're a handsome, extroverted football player - people don't need more than that to like a person," I huffed.
"How does everybody know that I'm a football player?!" he asked rather loudly.
"Your shin guard is halfway out of your bag, you moron!"
"Oh." Trevor blushed from embarrassment. "So you think I'm handsome?" He smiled sheepishly. I took in his appearance properly for the first time. His hair was dark brown, and if it was longer it would have been curly. He wasn't very tall, but he was muscular enough, with unusually broad shoulders. His eyes were kind and his features symmetrical.
"I think you can be called attractive, yes, but that really isn't my area of expertise."
"You're not like your brother, then?" he asked and shifted awkwardly.
"I'm very much like my brother, but not in every respect. Are you thinking of something in particular?"
"He said something about watching football practice, and players who would take off their shirts..." Trevor looked away from me, obviously embarrassed.
"Ah yes, Raymond is together with the team captain. They're something of an item here."
"So you're not?"
"No, I am not together with my brother's boyfriend," I said in a casual tone.
"You know that's not what I meant!" He sighed loudly when I didn't say anything. "Are you, then? It's all right, I don't mind." I rolled my eyes, not caring much for the conversation. I looked pointedly at my book and pretended to zip my mouth shut.
"What?"
"Shut up, I'm reading!" People talking, especially when they interrupted my studies, was one of the things that I hated the most, and this one specimen seemed like he would be talking a lot.
* * *
Trevor
Rolling my eyes at Charlie Nichols, I slid to the floor and started unpacking my things. Each of us had a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. There were two chairs and a big desk to share. We also had a bathroom, including a shower that was just for the two of us.
While I filled the dresser, I studied Charlie, who sat on his bed reading.
He had slender and, I admit, oddly beautiful hands. His keen eyes were a light brown, and as he concentrated on the book in his lap his gaze was hard and unforgiving. He was nicely dressed in slacks and a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the colour fitting his withe-blond, tousled hair. He wasn't as tall as his brother, but a bit more muscled.
At seven thirty, Charlie took me to the canteen for dinner, and we sat down beside Raymond and the football player he'd talked to earlier.
The brothers started bickering about some thing or another the moment we sat down, and I was left with the stranger.
"So you're Trevor!" he said in a thick, barely understandable accent. "My name's Matthew, but you can call me Matt." He offered his hand over the table and I shook it tight while trying to not show my amusement.
"Yes, nice to meet you."
"I hear you're going to join my team tomorrow," he said and grinned.
"That was the plan," I answered.
"Good! We're pretty great - you're going to have a hard time following," he smirked.
"Oh, I don't think so. I used to be captain on my old team, so you'll have to do your best, I like some competition!" The conversation went on in that fashion, and when I'd finished my food I licked the plate clean. Charlie, who'd barely touched his own food, looked at me with disgust.
We returned to our rooms shortly after, and I spent the evening writing a long email to my mother.
I didn't talk much to my new roommate before I stripped to pants and bid him good night, wondering how this was going to play out.
***
A/N
Alright! First chapter is up!
I know it wasn't very eventful, but it'll get more interesting!
Thank you for reading, please vote and comment, it would make me very happy!
Yours,
Miss Thomassen