| university | d.h

| eight |

// Dan //

"Hey Buddy, where were you last night? Got back and you weren't here."
Phil's voice booms from behind the closed bathroom door the moment that I enter the dorm, and I walk straight past the hall and into the main area of the room, throwing myself into my spot on the couch.
"How many times have I told you that I will not converse with you while you're on the toilet, Lester!"
I yell, leaning my head back against the couch and closing my eyes for a few brief minutes of peace before Phil inevitably unleashes his manic upon me. Phil has always had a bad habit of absolutely fucking interrogating me after I have participated in any sort of activity that he wasn't invited to, like perhaps I won the lottery or ran into Gerard Way on the street while he was gone.
Eventually, the sound of the bathroom door flying open is accompanied by the toilet flushing and Phil's light footsteps padding down the hallway. I brace myself and flick on the television, scrolling through the guide quickly in search of an episode of Donut Showdown or Chopped to watch while I pretend to listen to Phil's commentary on his date with Blondie.
"So,"
I say, turning up the volume on a showing of Toy Story before setting the remote down on the couch beside me and folding my hands in my lap.
"How was your date?"
Phil lays down on the couch and starts running his mouth about Tillie and how cute she is and blah blah blah.
"I really like her, Dan. And she's so sure of herself. I can't believe she's still hanging out with me."
I laugh.
"I can't believe it either, you're a massive dork. What was she thinking?"
Phil reaches over and punches my leg halfheartedly, closing his eyes.
"I think I want to date her. Y'know, like actually date her."
"Do it then."
I reply with a shrug. I've never been the best with words, Phil knows that. He's not expecting me to initiate a long, heartfelt conversation about girls and love and romance, but sometimes I wish I could find something better to say to him. Words just don't come easily to me, especially the ones involving love, and even more so when I have to say them out loud. Phil smiles and opens his eyes after a few minutes of quiet.
"I think I will."
He stands up and makes his way to the front door, pulling on a coat.
"I'll see you later, yeah?"
I nod, leaning my head back against the couch again. The door closes with a click and he's gone.
I try my best not to close my eyes and take a nap, seeing as my first class of the day starts in half an hour.
Do you have the time, to listen to me whine? About nothing and everything all at once,
My phone goes off from across the room and I groan, brainstorming for a way that'll get me across the floor to reach it without moving from the couch or putting in to much effort. I consider not answering it.
I am one of those melodramatic fools-
I push the answer button to cut off the song, which is all of a sudden much more annoying than it was when I downloaded it for my ringtone. I don't bother standing up from my new position sprawled out on the carpet between the coffee table and the couch, and lean my head back against the fluffy rug, holding the phone to my ear.
"Hello? Dan? Oh my God, can you hear me?"
I pull my cell away from my head, cringing at the loud voice of the person on the other line. Holy fuck. I check the screen; unknown number.
"Yeah, yeah hey, who is this?"
The girl on the other side laughs, as though this is a silly question. I recognize the sound.
"Tillie, it's Tillie."
Blondie. That would explain the loud, obnoxious voice.
"Oh, hey, Tillie. What's up?"
I try to sound involved, even though all of my interest in the conversation ended when I found out who the caller was.
"I was wondering if you've seen Alex. I can't find her anywhere."
I let out a sigh and tell her no before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. I haven't seen Alex, or talked to her, for that matter, since I dropped her off last night. It's odd that Tillie would assume she was with me, seeing as she doesn't even seem to like me very much. I ignore the off feeling in my gut, and the fact that I have no idea where Blondie even got my number in the first place, and regretfully rise from the ground to get ready for class.
After brushing my teeth and changing into a clean black T-shirt, I slide my phone into the back pocket of my jeans and leave the dorm, actually locking the door behind me for the first time ever. It goes without saying that I should probably be more careful now that I have a new roommate that isn't Phil. After all, my dorm did get broken into last year, it might not be a bad idea to start fucking locking it.
As for my new roommate, I haven't seen him once since I got here five days ago. Not once. I don't know where the Hell he goes or how he manages to always be gone while I'm home, but I've chosen not to question it because he's fucking creepy anyway. The arrangement is working damn well for me.
My English Lit class is on the top floor in auditorium 4, one I've never been to before. It takes a few minutes to find the new room, and when I do I'm late by three minutes. I slip silently to the back row and take a seat in the podium, lazily dragging my finger over the carvings in the old wooden bench.
My eyes flash over the room, settling on every head individually, looking for someone that I know well. I'm acquainted with almost everyone, or anyone who's anyone, as Dalton puts it, but there doesn't seem to be any of my close friends in this class. My gaze rests on a head of curly, dark hair and my spirits lift instantly.
"Alex, psst... Hey,"
I whisper, stretching to kick Alex, who is a few rows down from me, with the toe of my converse. She turns around quickly, confused, staring at me for a second before breaking into a smile.
"Hey, Dan."
She passes her books to me and I set them on the podium beside me, helping her climb up to my row.
She looks beautiful today, and she's wearing a pink floral dress with flip flops and pins with diamonds on them in her hair, the complete opposite of what she looked like when I met her. Now that I think about it, I realize that I've never seen Alex in anything but a band t-shirt or her pyjamas. It's a nice change, and it makes me wonder how she can be so many different things at once. It makes me wish I could be like her, different and special and open to change.
I had learned a lot about her last night after the movie. She let me buy her that coffee that we missed out on, and she told me all about her mom and her grandma, Rosa, and her hometown and what Tillie was like when they were younger and what she was like when they were younger. I asked a lot of questions, which was surprising for me, and I avoided talking about myself because I was to interested in talking about her. I could never tell any of my friends that, expect for Phil, because he's a big ball of fucking mush when it comes to girls. I am not. Usually, anyway. But something about Alex interests me to no end and I always want to know more about her. I wonder what Dalton would say if he could hear my thoughts. Probably something along the lines of 'You're such a fucking pussy, Dan.'
"Dan, you awake?"
Alex says, nudging my shoulder with her own. I tear my eyes away from the pale skin there, dotted with freckles, and the soft ridges of her collarbones, mentally hitting myself for being so weird.
"Yes, present."
I realize that she has notes out, and that the professor has started talking. Shit. I pull out my tape recorder quickly and start it, setting it on the bench beside me and tuning into the professors words.
"So, are you taking this class out of actual interest or are you only here because it's required?"
I have to think about my response for a few moments. I don't want to lie, but I don't want to sound like a huge fucking nerd, either.
"I need it for my degree, but I've always liked English."
I say, hoping that I don't sound to lame.
"Really, I didn't see you as much of an arts junkie."
"No one does at first."
It's quiet for a few minutes while she furiously scratches notes onto her pad of paper and I pretend to listen to the professor, but instead doodle on the bench of the podium.
"What are you studying, anyway?"
I ask to break the silence. Even though we met at school, we've never asked each other what we are here for, which is definitely odd.
"I'm here for my bachelor's in Bio, for now, I'm going to be a vet."
Alex answers with a goofy smile on her face, and I am once again blown the fuck away. That is one of the last things I'd imagine her as, and it boggles my mind how she can keep surprising me like this.
"And you?"
"Law, eventually."
I reply nervously, stuffing my hands into my hoodie pocket to hide the fact that their clammy as Hell. I fucking hate feeling nervous, but I'm very used to being told that I don't fit as a lawyer and that something about the idea seems weird, and by now my natural response after telling someone my career choice is to prepare a speech to defend myself after they criticize me. But I can't think of a clear argument, to be perfectly honest, I don't even know if it's the career for me. I could be wasting years of my life right now and I wouldn't fucking know it because I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.
"I can see you as a lawyer, you'd be good at it."
Alex says quietly, and I feel something bubbling in my stomach that I haven't felt for a long time. Confidence, maybe. A different kind of confidence that comes from compliments, not the kind that I'm already full of. I push it down, Christ knows I'm already to cocky for my own good.
"Thanks,"
I say just as quietly, and we work in silence for the rest of the class; Alex scribbling down her notes and me recording the lesson and pretending to listen. When it's over, we walk together to the doors, and I remember that I have no classes until one o'clock and breath a huge sigh of relief.
"Do you have anything right now?"
I ask, giddy. Ideas flash in my mind of where we could go. She's American, after all. There's gotta be something around here that I can give her a tour of.
"No, not till three,"
Alex says, and then she meets my eyes and her expression turns flat.
"But I've got to go meet up with Tillie, she's probably wondering where I am."
I can feel my face fall. I nod and say goodbye and turn on my heel to leave, feeling fucking stupid. It's obvious that she made up plans, as if she knew beforehand that I was going to ask her to hang out. I brush off the feeling. She was messing with me anyway; this isn't how I usually act. The sooner I can stop having mushy gushy romance thoughts, the sooner I'm back to how I was last week. The stupid girl was making me weak for no reason whatsoever. It not like I know her anyway.
Maybe I just need to get laid.

a/n: heyyyooooo
filler!!!! sorry i've been gone so long, but on the bright side, i always write when i'm stressed and its finals week soon, so you'll probably be seeing a lot more of me.
also, i'm writing a new fic soon and i'm looking for people to base a few of the characters off of'!!! there will be a detailed list of the positions that i need sometime soon, so drop a comment if you are possibly interested in being a character!!
and also I HIT 100 VOTES. that may not be a lot for some people, but it's a HUGE accomplishment for me. so THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU SO SO SO SO MUCH. i love you guys to death. like seriously.
that's all, so please vote and comment and all that good stuff. reading your comments absolutely makes my day, so do that for sure.
and thank you again 💕💕