When In Rome ► Timothée Chalamet

4 | First Day

Y/N

_

"Are you going to the Orientation?"

I was shoving things into my backpack, but I looked up at the sound of Elliot's voice. We called the front desk last night, but they told us there was no other room available to accommodate us. Besides, George apparently never showed up. It was strange figuring out how to live with a guy I've never met before, but I was grateful he was well-kept and nice.

"I wish," I said, shaking my head, "language students have a first period class, so I can't make it."

"Total bummer," he laughed, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, "I'll pick up some free stuff for you."

"Thanks, what are you doing after classes?"

"Probably just chilling, why?"

"It's not a necessity," I shrugged, zipping up my bag, "but I kind of wanted to go dorm room shopping."

"We already have a dorm room, why do you need to buy a new one?" he joked.

"Ah, you know what I mean."

"Just messing with you," he smiled, "I'd be down for that."

"Perfect, I'm in the Manzoni building, room 244 if you want to meet me there."

"My locker's outside that classroom," he commented, setting his bowl down, "I dropped my stuff off yesterday afteroon."

"Oh, look at you being prepared!"

"Ahh, grazie signora."

I smiled, and made a beeline for the door. Waving the boy a quick goodbye, I popped open the door and walked towards the hallway. My backpack was weighing me down a little bit, and I debated whether or not packing my entire roman history textbook was a good idea. I shook that thought away, coming to the conclusion that I needed to bring everything on the first day.

I was excited to get to the campus, but I was more excited to go dorm decorating afterwards with Elliot. I guess you could say he was my first real friend here in Italy!

My mind flashed back to the boy on the train. What was his name again? I shook my head again, as I pressed the elevator button. I couldn't really call him a friend, since I had only ever met him once.

The elevator ride went smoothly, I usually have a fear it would break down on me, but I suppose it's because I'm in a different place. Everything feels more perfect then back home; like the ideal place to be. Since the campus was a couple blocks away, I made it there on foot, and hurried inside the building. A crowd was gathering outside for the orientation, but I knew I couldn't linger any longer.

"Two-hundred twenty four," I muttered to myself, scanning the classroom numbers as I walked down the hallway.

There were a few people stuffing things in thier locker, but everyone seemed to be heading to the orientation. I bit my lip, questioning if I should ditch the first period to go.

Nope, first impressions matter. You're in college now.

Highschool is over.

_

I don't know how to make friends.

And no, I'm not pulling that, I'm not like other girls' nonsense, I just legitimately don't know how to start a conversation with a classroom of all boys. No, I didn't say that wrong, the whole class is male. I don't know what it was that possessed only men to take the language course, because I assumed more women would be interested in the Italian language.