My life goes to hell in early September.
Two weeks before I begin my third year in Swan University, I get an innocent looking envelope in the mail with George Ross written on it. I wrinkle my nose in disapproval but open it as I realise it's from the foundation that gives me my scholarship. They probably want to wish me a happy new academic year.
Except that they don't.
I stand in the bedroom/living room of my small attic flat with the letter in my sweating hands. This is why I never answer my phone either: it's only bad news.
The letter is short, blunt and to the point. My scholarship has been cancelled. The Margaret Goldberg Foundation has gone bankrupt. Just like that. Just... like... that my world comes crumbling down.
"Oh god, no," I breathe in terror.
I look up from the letter and out of the window from where I can see rooftops and, behind them in the distance, the ancient towers of the university buildings. It's a short walk to campus, but suddenly there's a vast, never-ending ocean between me and that world. I don't mean to sound melodramatic, but the truth is that I am pursuing my dream in the university of my dreams, and it's all been thanks to my scholarship. Without it...I have nothing. Swan University is one of the Ivy League universities, right there on top of the lists with Harvard and Princeton. I worked my ass off all through high school to get here. This is not a joke. This is my future.
Of course I panic. I frantically call my advisor of studies for an emergency meeting and he mumbles that he roughly has a half an hour free in the afternoon.
"Thank you so much!" I cry into the phone.
Instead of pacing around in my flat, I gather my stuff and get ready to go. I stuff my shoulder bag with pens, my diary, poetry books, and all of my other essentials. It's not cold outside yet, but winter is on its way. I put on my fingerless gloves, hat and scarf, and run out of the door. My heart is beating fast as I try to distract myself with the music coming from my mp3 player.
I can't calm down.
The campus is located on the edge of town, slightly isolated as if it is a world of its own. The town itself is not big enough to be a city, just a large town in New Jersey. It's vibrant thanks to the considerable student population. I have the letter from the foundation with me, and during the short walk to campus, I reread the letter five times.
I study English Literature and Creative Writing, and I spent my summer holiday tutoring the snobby, rich kids of the local families. I spent my free time in the university library and got used to the quiet and tranquil nature of the campus area. Now as I make my way between the old buildings, I am startled to find students everywhere. It's only then I realise that it's Fresher's Week, and I take in the new students, walking around with campus maps and confusion on their faces. On a normal day, I would be amused but not today. Not when my life is falling apart.
I get a few strange looks, and it makes me even bitchier. Yes, I'm a guy, and yes, I'm wearing eyeliner. Deal with it.
The campus itself is a mix of greenery, old faculty buildings with offices and lecture theatres, buildings for cafés and bookshops. At the very heart of everything is a square with four large buildings on each side and a patch of grass in the middle. One of the buildings is the university main building, one of them the massive university library, one of them the student union with a bookshop, café and bar all combined, and the last one is the fraternity house. All four buildings are buzzing with life as I head for the Darwin Café to kill time until the meeting with my advisor.
Stupid Fresher's Week. It's Monday, and so the whole idiocy of drinking and fucking for a week has just begun. Luckily, I don't have to have anything to do with it. When I had my own fresher's week, I stayed in with my new course books. Last year, I crashed a fresher's party after having too many beers. I remember making out with a guy, then I threw up on myself and on him a little too and spent the rest of the week in hiding.
