College will be different my mom said. All I see are a bunch of kids lugging backpacks, some one strapping others two, hustling to their proper building. You can tell which class someone's in by how fast they walk. Some actually run. It's my freshman year of college, not high school. It looks like high school. I like to walk at a medium pace. Maybe I'll blend in this way. Either way, no one is even looking at me so I'm off to a good start. I can't help my smile.
I fell in love with this campus while researching at the last minute my senior year. And, by last minute, I mean I waited til mid-summer to decide. My mom wasn't too happy with me, but helped me out nonetheless with ordering my transcripts and setting up a meeting with the school's counselor and all that jazz. Except she isn't called a counselor. She's called an advisor, and her office is located in the student services building. Super nice lady who managed to really solidify my choice. And I had choices. I scored a 30 on my ACT. Most people drop their jaw when they hear that and some don't believe me. And here's the thing. The ones who don't believe me are the smart ones. Me scoring a 30 was a total and complete fluke. I'm not even that smart. I'm a normie. That's what the counselors at my high school call average people.
So, how I actually managed to obtain my 30 was due to a few reasons. First of all, I did study my buns off for this test don't get me wrong. First time I took a practice run I was in eighth grade. I bombed it. So, my mom bought me a ton of ACT guides, I watched YouTube videos and attended webinars. Some of that stuff helped me, but mostly it didn't. What did help was more like a person. My brainiac cousin. He taught me how to take the test. I used his tips, but there was one secret weapon that actually helped me the most. It was something I made up all on my own...guessing. I would calculate that fifty percent of my ACT results were from me simply guessing in a panic as the minutes were ticking by. See. Fluke. This doesn't happen. At least not to anyone I know. The odds of winning the lottery are better than scoring high on an ACT by guessing. I'm pretty sure.
Anyway, I ended up picking Carol College. An old private college in a sleepy little town that my mom was rooting for. I fell in love with the small atmosphere of it. Yeah buildings are spread out and it's gonna suck in winter, but I like it. Hopefully, I'll be able to keep up with the work. I want to be a paralegal. My mom is a lawyer. I've spent many summers helping her with cases so I'm already familiar with law. Well, at least family law. My father doesn't understand why I don't want to become a lawyer and chose something of lesser value, according to him. But I like the grunt work. It's fun, earns a decent living and I won't have to be a slave to the job. I think.
Anyway, I lucked out and am able to room with my best friend. Her name is Kiki. She loved her name up until that song came out and everyone kept asking her if she loved them. I'm so glad that craze is done with. So annoying. Kiki is too tough to love just anybody anyways. She's your typical bad girl. Not to be confused with a baddie. You know, those hot chicks with perfect bodies that wear skin tight clothes and look like an Instagram model without even trying? Yeah, she's not that. Kiki is kinda like an E girl. A little emo, but tougher. As in, she'll kick your ass if you mess with her. You don't want to mess with her. Besides being a blonde bombshell, she looks bad ass and is bad ass. I'm soo glad she's my bestie. Besties since birth. No one is breaking us up. Besides, she protects me or so she says.
I'm the direct opposite of tough. I can't fight to save my life. So she claims to be my bodyguard. According to her, I'm gorgeous. Pff. I'm not gorgeous. But one of her favorite things to do is walk with me. Her long, platinum blonde hair contrasts well with my long, inky black hair. She loves that. I just think it makes us look kinda like a skunk if we stand too close to one another. I shrug with my thoughts. Who knows. Maybe we do look cool? My style isn't like her biker fare. I'm a girly girl. I love pink and lace and ruffles...okay not ruffles. I only like ruffles in my potato chips.
Where is she anyway? When she left our room she said she was going to head to the coffee shop to get a coffee. Did she mean the school's coffee shop or the Starbys on the corner? I pull my backpack onto my other shoulder deciding this one strap idea isn't working. Better two strap it. I struggle to pull the second strap on not realizing the show I've just given. That is until I notice a boy staring straight at my chest. I can feel my double Ds swaying as I settle my back pack fully onto my back and roll my eyes. Yup. This is definitely going to be just like high school.
Just as I settle myself, I see Kiki in the distance and wave. She hoists two cups of coffee into the air. I should have known. She went to Starbucks. She wasn't taking any chances with the school's coffee shop.
"Got Starbys, girlfriend!"
"Thanks, girl."
"Ye."
"I'm so glad our first class is together. History!" I sing before sipping my drink and burning my tongue instantly erasing my happiness. "Ah!"
"Gotta blow at it, man," Kiki smirks.
Running my tongue over my injured lip a few times seems to ease the weird burning sensation. "Do you think our teacher will be nice?"
"Probs. Her name is Mrs. Minty. She has to be."
"At the most she'll be fresh," I laugh at my own lame joke while Kiki busts out with a belly laugh of her own. I know she's laughing at how dumb I am rather than the joke. I love saying stupid crap like that just to hear her laugh. It's infectious. Watching try-not-to-laugh videos are the best. The moment I click on a video, her high cheekbones raise even higher cracking a huge smile and instantly failing with rolling laughter. It's all we do when we're together. Laugh that is. We've earned plenty of detentions just from laughing.
I'm really hopeful there are no detentions in college. I highly doubt it. But she needs to be on her best behavior, and I have to do my best not to look at her. The moment I do, it's game over. She senses me, and her giant blue eyes and impossibly long lashes turn to me and we bust out laughing. Don't ask me why. So, I gotta keep it together. No laughing or being disruptive. I'm eighteen years old. An adult. It's time to start adulting or whatever. That's what my mom says. I don't know how to adult. Kiki refuses. She's hanging on to her youth with both hands. Yeah she's bad ass, she even has a motorcycle. A Doohickey or something like that.
"Kiki, is your bike called a Doohickey?"
Warm coffee sprays my entire face. "Whaaaat? A Doohickey?!" Laughter rumbles out of her to the point she's crouching over while I sling my bag off and pull out tissues. The girl is lucky I don't have my glam on. I'm only wearing waterproof mascara and lip gloss today. Otherwise, I'd kill her. Ugh! Great. Now I'm gonna smell like coffee. I sigh. So much for first impressions.
I manage to clean myself up and toss the pathetically soaked tissues into a nearby garbage can and wipe the remainder coffee that wants to cling to my hands all over her butt. She only wears black jeans so it's all good, plus she doesn't care. She's the biggest guys girl that's ever lived. She once grabbed a pair of my dirty socks off the floor and threw them on because she was running late citing I was cleaner than anyone she'd ever met.
"Thanks a lot, Kiki."
"Oh my god. That was sooo funny. Doohickey," She sobers for a moment. "It's a Ducati," She snickers. "Why?"
I shrug. "It just popped in my head."
She nods. Anyway, she's managing to hang onto her youth by being a super huge gamer, collecting video game and anime merch and Living Dead Dolls. She brought some of her stuff and decorated our place with it even. Along with all of her art. She's a big horror artist. So, basically, I get to fall asleep to images of Michael Meyers, Jason, the Nun, It, the list goes on and on. But it's okay 'cuz I'm used to it.
You see, Kiki is a full personality. She knows herself. I admire her. I also love her like my very own sister. As for myself, well, I'm quiet. I love reading and writing. I can read for hours and hours and hours if I could get away with it. Anytime Kiki sees me she exclaims, "READING!" But I just can't help it.
My favorite genre is romance. There's nothing more exciting to me than when characters first meet. I love it. Falling in love seems so fun. I wouldn't know of course. I've never been in love. Sure I've had crushes, but nothing major. I haven't even been on a date. I know...pathetic. But, no one in my high school really appealed to me. Plus no one ever asked me out on a date. So yeah. I'm just a quiet girl who loves to stick my head into a fantasy and stay there. I'm introverted. Kiki is extroverted. We balance each other out.
"There's the social sciences building," Kiki gestures.
"Yeah. There's a ton of freshman going in."
Of course there would be. Gotta get those general subjects out of the way. I should have taken AP courses. Now I get why all of the smart kids were racing around so hard in high school trying to get as many of them out of the way as possible. Crap.
"Yo," Kiki nudges my arm. "Did ya' see that dude?"
"Where?" I crane my neck all around trying to find the source of Kiki's captivation.
"No!" She whisper yells and points. "Over yonder."
I snicker. "Over yonder!" Alluding to a place in the Kamisama Kiss anime. My absolute favorite one.
Kiki gives me a knowing wink, but then goes back to the source. "Look! Hurry! You're gonna miss him! Ugh! You missed him. Dang it."
"Crap! What did he look like?"
"Hot."
I roll my eyes and follow her into the classroom. I was expecting a lecture hall, but was met with a regular old classroom. Huh. There definitely wasn't going to be any horsing around in here.
My eyes widened spotting the teacher. Mrs. Minty. Holy crap she's dressed all in mint green. Well damn.
"Embracing it," Kiki nudges.
"I guess." I sit down, placing my bag under my desk and watch as students file in.
"So, guess what?"
"What?"
"There's a party every Friday night."
"How would you even know that already?" I whisper.
Kiki rolls her eyes. "I know everything. So? We gonna party like it's 1999?" She dances in her seat.
"Huh?"
"You know? 1999? Prince? Oh my lord," Kiki rubs her temples. "Never mind."
"Girls. This isn't high school, you know."
Mortification consumes me. Embarrassment has a look and a feel. It's red and it's hot which is the current state of my face. Kill me now. I glare at Kiki then glance around the room at the curious faces.
"Heh," She smirks daring to push the limits.
I don't want any syllables exiting her mouth. There is no way I am getting into trouble on the first day of school, I mean college. Adulting. Dammit. I'm failing already! And, I nearly do fail towards the end of class. It was so boring, Kiki has to kick me awake. I don't know how I'm gonna make it through an entire year of Mrs. Minty's monotone voice. Also, someone needs to tell her soliloquies are usually private!
The rest of the morning goes uneventful. I am on my own until lunch where I meet up with Kiki at the lunch hall. The place was bigger than the food court at the mall. This is heaven.
"Oh, man, I'm gonna get me some tacooos!" Kiki fake shoots at the taco window.
"I want a chef's salad."
Kiki abruptly stops and looks at me dumb. "Are you serious? You need meat on your bones, girl. Get some pasta or something. Not a stupid salad."
"Hey! I like chef's salads, and I'm getting it!"
"Fine. At least get some pizza to go with it."
"There's pizza? Where?"
Pizza is my absolute favorite food. Absolute. I can eat it every single day of my life. My size three jeans are not going to be in my future much longer if there's pizza here.
"Over there. Come on," Kiki pulls me over to the pizza station.
Once we grab our lunches, we sit down at an empty table. Girls approach, but then seem to do a u-turn changing their minds. Fifteen minutes go by with us being the only two sitting at an entire table alone.
"It's you." My teeth sink into the doughy goodness of my pizza, and my eyes roll with a contented sigh.
"Huh?"
I brush my hands off and shake my head. "You look too scary. No one wants to sit with us."
"Hey, ain't my fault people don't know fashion."
"True."
Kiki bites into her taco, her eyes widening. An excited grunt comes from her throat as she nods in a direction across from us. "There he is!" Except I don't hear words. It's more like a series of s.o.s. noises. I glean her meaning, and scope the area. I don't see anything.
"What am I looking for?" I itch my nose with a sniff.
"Shit! You missed him again! Dang it."
"No!"
"Yes! Ugh!"
I run my hand through my hair turning my attention back to my pizza. I guess checking this hot dude out is not in my future, at least for today. Meh. Tomorrow's another day. I shrug.
"It's on," Kiki nods at me in the affirmative as she bites into another taco. Her eyebrows lift in what I know is supposed to be seductive.
I roll my eyes. "What is?"
"It's a mission now. Imma call it...Operation Spy the Guy."
I can't help my giggle at her neck roll. "That's so lame, Kiki."
"Lame, but fun. Come on. Let's get this day over with so we can get to Friday and party."
"Party?"
"Yeah. Did you forget already? There's a party every Friday over at the Phi Gama Lama Ding Dong house."
"Phi Gama L...what?"
"Oh, I don't know what the name of it is. I suck at Greek. It's over at one of the frat houses, and we are definitely going!" Kiki brushes her hands off from all the crumbs she manages to accumulate but frowns when she realizes all her brushings ended up on her chest, then her lap. Queen of crumbs. Huh. Maybe I'll start calling her crumbles. I start to laugh.
"What's funny?" She asks as she busies herself with cleaning her pants.
"I'm gonna call you crumbles. You're always full of crumbs."
She stops her ministrations. "No way. Don't you dare call me crumbles. People will think it's cause of my panties. Ain't gonna happen. Focus, Luna. Party. Friday."
"Ugh! I hate parties. You know this. Whyyy?" I whin.
"We're going."
Kiki tosses her garbage in the can and blows me a kiss only to disappear into the crowd. Great. I don't want to go to a party. It's the first day of school for crying out loud. How is there a party scheduled already? And weren't college parties just a thing of movies and books? This is real life. These things don't really happen, do they? I would never use this language out loud but...fuck me.
-#-
Author's Note:
Hi guys! Hope you liked my first chapter of Different IRL. If so, please hit that vote button! I really appreciate it :)
Also, I just want to warn y'all ahead of time, this is a mature book and eventually I plan to have chapters with graphic sexual content. I do not plan on giving out any more warnings so that the flow of the story isn't disrupted.
Thanks again for dropping by and checking this out. See you next time!