I had never really been sold on the idea of dorm rooms. Being thrown together with someone you had never met, forced to share a room with this mysterious person for a couple of years; it seemed like an incredibly stupid idea. I had always been a bit protective of my things. When I was younger, I was definitely one of those dickish little kids that never shared his toys. Years of maturity had brought me some control, but it was only going to go so far. Still, I was determined not to be that roommate, the kind that divided the room in two with duct tape. I wasn't looking forward to the coming years at all.
I stood in front of the door, probably looking like a complete idiot to the people buzzing past me in the hallway. I had dragged my bag closer to the wall so that people could pass, but I was having a hard time just opening the door. I was late, which meant that my roommate was likely already inside and settling in. I wasn't sure, but occasionally it sounded like there was movement inside. That was enough to confirm my suspicions. I looked down at the paper in my hand, held out between me and the door: Isaac Crawford, Room 317. I looked back up at the door. 317. Yeah, it was the right place.
Once again, I was back at my original dilemma: to knock, or just to barge in. Technically it was half my room, which gave me enough right, in my mind, to just open the door and enter. Still, it wasn't all my room, and the other half of which belonged to a person I had never met before. Who knew how exactly that would look to my new acquaintance. He could have been anybody, some muscled asshole with a serious desire to cause me some hurt just for existing. The kind of person that existed in TV just to make things infinitely more interesting and create drama. I hadn't had the good graces to meet up with that kind of person prior, which only seemed to suggest that I was well past due.
Random Blonde Student Passing By: "Dude, just go in the damn room."
I turned to look at the guy who had addressed me. He simply rolled his eyes at my gaze and dragged his own bag down the hall, having the kind of determination that I only wished I had. He seemed to know exactly where his room was, suddenly turning into one of the doors with no hesitation. He wasn't much farther down the hall from my room, three doors door and on the opposing wall. Whether I wanted it or not, I'd be sure to bump into him a good few times in the coming years.
I decided to take his advice to heart and just open the door. I knew what to expect from the dorm rooms already, considering I had taken a tour just like everybody else when deciding on the school. It was nicer than most of the rooms at the other universities I had been considering. Then again, Dellafest University was also smaller than most of the other universities, so it made sense: less rooms equals better rooms. At least, that's what I was thinking. Besides, Dellafest apparently had some very wealthy benefactors.
The room was large, but also notably empty. I turned to my left, where the bathroom was, and noticed the door shut and light pooling out from underneath the door. Okay, my roommate was there. I desperately wished I had written down his name, but I was sure that I was going to remember it. My memory was pretty solid most of the time, but with all the excitement it his name had just been lost in the shuffle. I remembered his last name, though: Langdon. That didn't exactly do me very much good. I imagined putting on a little smirk and greeting him by referring to him as "Mr. Langdon" but it just ended up looking stupid in my mind. Something somebody suave could pull off, and that was definitely not me.
Right across the way from the bathroom was the kitchen, decked out with all the necessities: fridge, stove, microwave, coffee maker, dishwasher, and loads and loads of cupboards. Everything was provided by the school, all included in the price of the room. I noticed that my roommate seemed to already be stocking things up, but didn't really bother paying too much attention. I was still stuck on his name. It was short, four letters or so. Also fairly common, which actually was making it harder to remember because it was just getting jumbled with all of the other names that came to mind. I desperately wanted to remember before he walked out of the bathroom. He probably knew my name. He probably had realized that it was an important enough thing to pay attention to.
Right past the bathroom was the small little dining room. Nothing too impressive, and even calling it a "room" was being generous. Mostly it was just a table and chairs, with enough room off in the corner to set up something. I had every intention of throwing a TV back there if my roommate didn't mind. I just ignored the name thing and attempted to focus more on getting to my bed, a part of the room that I could officially consider my own.
Past the kitchen and dining room there was the actual bedroom section, with two beds on either wall, each with its own dresser and plenty of space around it for whatever the person needed. All in all, the room managed to never feel small, which was a nice feeling. The bed on the right was already covered with some clothes and other such things, leading me to believe that it had already been chosen by Young Master Langdon as his place of rest. I really didn't have any preference on the matter, and just threw my bag down on the remaining bed, claiming it as my own. I suddenly remembered that I hadn't closed my door. A few long strides got me back over to it and I pulled it shut a bit harder than I had intended.
"Hello?"
The muffled voice came from the bathroom door right next to me. I jumped a bit at the sudden speaking going on. It took me a few seconds before I was able to choke out a "Hi" of my own. There was a moment before the voice spoke up again making sure I knew that he would "be out in just a moment." It felt like a pointless statement; I assumed he would be coming out, and it wasn't like I was suddenly going to bolt from the room. I answered him with a simple uh huh and made my way back over to my bed. I realized that I was basically trapped now. I couldn't sneak out without being rude, and he was going to be popping out between me and the only way to freedom. I knew I needed to meet him, but I imagined a perfect scenario in which one of us was always away while the other was here. No choice. I was terrible at meeting people, and never really looked forward to it.
I heard the sounds of flushing, followed shortly after by the sound of running water. Thank goodness he was hygienic, or at least kind enough to meet me while his hands were clean. Not long after, I watched the door open. Out stepped a guy my age, looking a bit different than I had been expecting. He was the kind of person you crossed by on the street without really noticing. Then again, so was I. His black hair was in desperate need of a haircut, being jumbled up in a giant mess of curls that was basically shooting off in every direction possible. There was pure chaos going on up there. I couldn't tell what color his eyes were, but they were definitely a darker shade. He was about my height, right around 6 feet exactly, and had the tiniest bit of pudge on him. He was wearing just a basic pair of jeans and a plain black shirt. Seriously, nothing about him stood out physically at all.
"Hey. Nice to meet you. I'm Eric Langdon."
Eric! I felt like smacking myself, but that probably wouldn't have been the best first impression. He took a few steps to close the gap between us and offered his hand for a handshake. I looked down at it for a moment before glancing back up at Eric's face. I might have been just staring for a bit long, though, because he soon started saying "If you're worried, I, um, washed my –"
"I heard. Sorry. Isaac. Crawford. Isaac Crawford. So yeah, nice to meet you too."
I hadn't exactly meant to interrupt him, and felt like every word that came out of my mouth made me sound like a complete idiot. Not like it really mattered what he thought of me or anything, we were only going to be sharing this room. Not like we'd ever have to interact. I actually did feel tempted to smack myself, but simply decided against to save face as well as I could. I decided that best thing to do was just come clean.
"Look, sorry. I'm just terrible at meeting people. Nervous. There's kinda a lot going on here today, and my minds everywhere."
Eric just nodded understandingly.
"I understand."
I had gathered that much by the nod.
"Anyway, I'm sure we'll get along. I'm pretty easygoing, so just, you know, do whatever. I don't really care, I guess. No weird stuff, though."
I wasn't exactly sure what he meant by weird stuff, but was fairly certain that nothing I planned on doing in his presence would be even the slightest bit interpreted as such. Eric seemed to have had enough of making me the center of his focus and returned to unpacking. He just was grabbing clothes out from a bag and throwing them on the bed. He kept them folded up, but it just felt the slightest bit disorganized. I realized I was just watching him, and decided that unpacking my own bag wasn't such a terrible idea. I had pulled out my first shirt when Eric spoke up again.
"These rooms are pretty nice."
Small talk. I hated small talk. Nothing you said mattered, and it only was really used to just eliminate the awkward quiet from a room. Then again, silence was only awkward if you let it be awkward, something I had learned long ago to never do. Eric hadn't been taught that himself. Ignoring him, though, wasn't an option. I answered in about the most generic way possible.
The small talk continued for the better part of half an hour as we emptied our bags of clothes and started filling the dressers. I had finished before him, skipping the entire inefficient step of using the bed as a display. He was pretty easy to talk to, all things considered. By the end I wasn't feeling too incredibly awkward, and unfortunately my true nature started shining out.
"Where are the rest of your bags?"
It was a normal question, but I knew myself. Normal questions were a gateway drug. Eric didn't take long to answer.
"My home's back in Portland. I'm heading off there this weekend to pick up the rest of my stuff. How about you? That can't be all of your stuff."
He was right, of course. "My parents are sending the rest of my things soon. I just brought enough to get me through the week."
I did my best to try and hold it back. People always hated it. It made them uncomfortable. Still, there was nothing I could do. It always drove me mad if I didn't just let go. And so I did. I let go full stop.
"Tell me about yourself, Eric. Considering we're going to be rooming together for a while, it only makes sense."
He hesitated. I wasn't surprised. I just did my best to salvage what I could from the situation.
"Sorry. I'm just nosy. Curious from a young age. It's a curse. Just forget I said anything. Please. Curiosity killed the cat, and all that."
Eric laughed a bit, which surprised me, to say the least. I watched him throw one last pair of jeans into the dresser before turning to look at me. I felt like an idiot. I had just met him and had taken no time before trying to ease my way into learning everything there was to know about him. He didn't seem too taken aback, though.
"But satisfaction brought it back."
I was silent for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what he meant by that.
"Come on. You know. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. What, you never heard that one? You know, it means basically means that because I don't care, it's not a problem."
I wanted to hold my tongue, but just couldn't.
"That's not what that means."
Eric's right eyebrow rose to attention. I almost laughed. He looked like he himself was rising to some ridiculous challenge or something.
"Oh really. What's it mean then?"
"It means that being satisfied with your current situation, not being curious, is what keeps you alive. Or whatever."
Eric just shook his head. Okay, it was on. His explanation didn't even make sense. I mean, come on. Still, he just stood there with a smug smile on his face, shaking his head as if he was disappointed in me or something. It was all in jest, of course, but I suddenly felt like stepping up to play ball too. I couldn't wait to hear what he was going to retort with. I didn't wait long.
"See, that just doesn't make any sense. Explain to me now why the cat would need to be brought back to life if he hadn't been killed by curiosity in the first place. See, my way makes sense, because you're dead, but then you're brought back. You, you just completely ignore the whole point."
I actually just full-out laughed. I didn't really say anything, though. I was just enjoying the show at that point. And besides, I had to admit that Eric had a point.
"Hey, laugh it up. Until you have proof that you're right somehow, I'll just sleep well knowing that I'm just a bit savvier about these kinds of things. Don't take it personally, Isaac. I'm just an impressive guy."
I leaned back until I was staring at the ceiling. The bed was comfortable. I took one last look at Eric, who looked awfully pleased with himself. I simply smiled. Still, I just couldn't get something out of my mind, a small voice that had been whispering to me all day. Finally stopping, it was starting to come in crystal clear: leave. Some part of me just didn't feel safe here. My head turned to the window nearest me, facing out to the quad. I couldn't see anything but the sky from my angle, but that was all I needed. I simply decided to ignore the voice. It was just nervousness, the jitters. I realized that Eric was about to talk and just chose to listen, abandoning all worry for the moment.
"Okay, then where to start. Well, I was born in Salem 19 years ago…"
Okie dokie now. Here we are. For new readers, I'm Zake. I'm just a guy who loves to write. For old readers, hey there! It's been a while since I started working on a full novel and putting it up on fictionpress. For the people in the know, I'm still working on Path of Ruin, harder than ever in fact. I just decided to come up with a story that I had no intention of publishing and putting it up here. It's fun having people read my work, and I'm pretty sure you guys will like where this story ends up going. I know it starts pretty slow, but trust me when I say that things pick up awfully quick. Poor Isaac, he has no idea what he's gotten himself into. I plan on updating this story according to my old Path of Ruin schedule, which means twice a week, preferably Mondays and Fridays, though don't expect one tomorrow. Also, please review. Do I NEED the reviews... maybe. Do I WANT them... you know it. Reviews make people better writers. I appreciate anyone who's willing to take 5 minutes out of their day grace me with their opinion. Okay then, please read, review, enjoy, and do the macarena, mostly just because you look like an idiot when doing it. Don't worry, I'll join in too.