Misconstrue

FIRST Impressions...

"...last, so no matter the occasion, always look your best; iron your clothes, clean your shoes, and comb that nappy head."

I repeat the mantra as I make my way from my bedroom to the kitchen, being so caught-up in my uttering, I fail to acknowledge my roommate. Ben and I have been living together for over a year now, he's one of the few friends I managed to make since I left my home country to study here five years ago.

"First impressions-"

"Jesus, how many times must I hear this again?"

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly as I fix a bowl of cereal for myself, as I join Ben by the granite counter top island, I do a mental check to see if I'm ready for the day ahead. Ben sighs, I try my best to ignore the sound but I find myself looking up at him. 

The red polo shirt he's wearing compliments his tanned skin, it's as if this specific shirt was made for him. His dark curly hair rests over his forehead and I can immediately tell that he didn't run a comb through his tresses when he woke up his morning.  

I ignore the look on his face as my eyes meet his dark ones, the bags underneath his eyes are dark and deep, a sign that he's still struggling with his sleep schedule. I continue to chew on my cereal, counting silently in my head before swallowing.

I tilt my head to right, my eyes focus on the microwave, the digital clock displays the time, my leg begins to bounce uncontrollably as I remind myself of the journey I have to make in a few minutes. "Your anxiety is giving my anxiety panic attacks."

I furrow my eyebrows as I glare at the man before me, "that sounds like a total meltdown," I frown at him, "are you self-diagnosing yourself now?"

He chuckles softly, "maybe I should be diagnosing you. Why are you so nervous?"

My spoon hits the ceramic bowl with a loud clank as my grip on the utensil loosens, "I'm not nervous."

I stand from my seat with the bowl of half-eaten cereal in hand, I don't need visual confirmation to know that Ben's shaking his head at me. The bond we have runs deep enough for me to know his small quirks and reactions without even looking at him.

"Can you at least get off your ass and buy us some food?" I turn to face him. "Do you think I studied myself out of a social life so I could feed on cereal? There's no way I'm going through my foundation training without a proper diet."

He sighs yet again at my mini rant. "And now she's losing it." 

I chew on my bottom lip as I let the anxiety sink in, my stomach bubbles uncontrollably and so I flash my dear friend a look. "I am, aren't I?" 

He nods his head and I hang my own with a dejected sigh. "It took everything to get into the university of my dreams, and now that I'm almost where I want to be, I won't be distracted."

Ben exhales loudly then gets off the stool, a small pout forms on my lips as he approaches and engulfs me in a hug. I close my eyes momentarily as I bask in the warmth of his arms, in the eyes of outsiders, Ben and I's friendship does seem a bit weird as our personalities and interests do not match. What we have just works well enough for the both of us.

He pulls away then places both hands on my shoulder, my pout morphs into a small smile as I sense an impending pep talk. "Royals."

I blink at him as I immediately grow confused. I expected much more than one cryptic word from his lips. "Is that a code for something?"

He smiles widely. "You know, the people who own old castles in the countryside, and run this country - their off-springs were all born there." I push him away as he cackles like one of those hens I used to chase around the yard when I was a child. "Not to mention it's one of the oldest trauma centres in the world."