How to choose the one

And then, him

As the UCLA sign comes into view I feel the atmosphere in the bus buzzing. It's a mixed bag of emotions filling the small air space of the bus. My own mind is filled with anxiety and fear but most of all, exhilaration. This has been my dream for so long and it felt as though it may never actually come to fruition. And yet here I am, driving through the gates to my new reality. I'm so freaking excited.

Candice lets out a small squeal next to me and I feel like she has just outwardly expressed what I am internalising. Her eyes glaze over as we drive through the entrance. There are cars and people everywhere, it's a hive of activity.

We round a few corners and pull up behind a huge line of cars and busloads of people un loading and un packing. One by excited one, we exit the bus and wait for the still- bored looking driver to throw our bags and boxes onto the curb.

A shrill whistle sounds from behind us, making Candice and I jump. We spin around to face the whistle maker and a small red headed girl stands in front of us, smiling from ear to ear. Her freckles shine in the sunlight.

"Welcome everyone! I'm Larissa, your guide and offical welcome wagon."

She waves and waits, clearly expecting some sort of response. All she received is a few grunts and frowns from the guys who are still wrestling bags from grumpy the driver.

She clears her throat loudly and continues;

"Ah, ok. Well, as I was saying, I'm here to welcome you to UCLA and to pass out your dorm assignments. Girls, please step forward and tell me your names?"

Candice and I make a move towards her and she grins at us. Her eyes rake Candice up and down and her smile turns to a smart smirk.

"Cheerleader huh? More of you, just what we need around here. I can feel the GPA dropping already. Lovely."

Clearly not a cheer fan then. Not a complete surprise. She screams preppy do- gooder to me. The tucked in collared blouse and beige knee length skirt could have told me that. I'm about to retort but someone beats me to it;

"Easy there Larry, just because you detest short skirts and make up and anything fashionable, doesn't mean these girls are not nice people or intelligent for that matter. Now, instead of being a bitch, how about you give them their room assignment and piss off?"

Surfer boy steps up to the plate. It's maybe a bit harsh but they clearly seem to have history that is none of my business. He winks at me and grabs his ruck sack from the curb and stalks off in the direction of the building to our left.

Not that I care where is he going.

Larissa is clearly pissed though and taps her foot aggressively on the curb, staring after surfer boy with fire in her eyes.

"That's Larissa Gerbal, you, you.... jerk!"

He continues walking but lifts a hand and waves backwards at her.

What kind of name is Gerbal?!

"Names?" Larissa grunts and pushed her red curl from her face. He definitely got to her. I wonder if there is some sort of romantic history between the two? Though it occurs to me that they are very different types of people, but it still makes me feel a little strange for some reason.

Larissa taps her honey white finger on my forehead.

"Hello? Any brains in there? What is your name?!"