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Post by Fitzy Patricks on Mar 11, 2011 4:37:11 GMT
Once upon a time when I was very little (twelve) I started at Chester Academy and received my very own room. I also received, should I want to use them, reusable stickers in all letters of the alphabet; a markerboard for messages, and helpful advice on creating a mailbox.
But even at the tender age of twelve, I knew I wouldn’t want to advertise my presence or personality to anyone who walked down the hall, and so I kept my door blank.
I’m not, of course, the only one to do this. Maybe ten percent of my classmates are the same, choosing to blend into the background, fade into obscurity. Anonymous. You’d have to knock on every single one of our doors to find us, and most of us are not the sort to open up without a password. So, all in all, my long-ago decision not to decorate my door has proven to be the right one.
Occasionally, though, there are disadvantages. Like when some utter idiot has a package or present to deliver to somebody else, can’t find a name to match it up to, and decides that any old blank door will do to dump it in front of.
I’ve spent afternoons trying to track down the owner of a mayday basket with no name, only to find that the insane 14-year-old who made the thing is affronted ‘cause I don’t want to keep it. I’ve come back from a walk to find a furiously blushing 7th-grader outside my door, having accidentally slipped me a coloring book instead of giving it to her new friend down the hall.
The last thing that I want to do today is have another conversation with a stranger about why in the hell someone who loves them enough to give presents can’t figure out where they live, for chrissake.
At least this one has a name on, however. I can’t make out a thing except a y at the end and what might be an l or a t, but at least there’s something. I’ve managed to eliminate anyone who doesn’t have a y in their name, for example. I’ll take what I can get.
So. Next stop. It’s a double, with a markerboard outside covered in untidy scrawl. Almost as hard to make out as the tag on this gift, but I could swear that one name, at least, ends in a y. Here goes nothing.
I rap on the door, tensing up self-consciously and bracing myself for the inevitable jokes brought on by a guy with a rose in his hand visiting another guy’s dorm room. I’ve only been at this ten minutes, and already they’re getting quite old. Can’t wait ‘til I get to the girls’ floor.
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Post by Riley Pearson on Mar 11, 2011 5:10:01 GMT
Riley couldn't express how happy he was that he was finally alone. Even after having a roommate for as long as he did, he couldn't stand having to share such a small space with someone- who, coincidentally had little to nothing in common with him. He wondered if the school did that on purpose; he could think of maybe one person who actually had a roommate they liked. Normally, he didn't have issues getting along with people, but there's something about having another guy's underwear on the floor and getting locked out when he had a girl over that picked at one of his nerves. Riley definitely appreciated it whenever he got to have space to himself.
And with his newly appreciated time to himself, he spent it sittingo n his bed reading a book. Not the book he had to read for homework, of course- God forbid he was to do something productive in his free time. Just as he was getting to the end of the chapter, there was a knock on the door. Riley pulled his eyes away from the line he was reading and looked up- for a second he thought it might be his roommate having forgot his key again and he contemplated not answering the door- but it was only for a second. Despite wanting the room to himself, he would have to admit that he was feel awful if he did that to him.
Making a mental note of the page he was on, he set the book down and got off of his bed walking over to the door and opening it a moment later.
The site he saw though was not at all what he had been expecting. He didn't even know the guy that was standing in front of him. Riley's eyes moved down to the rose he was carrying before back up to the guy's face- being slightly confused why he was standing there with a flower. He had no problem with guys being gay, but he had a feeling it would be awkward to be recieving a flower from a guy.. in the middle of his dorm.
"Can I help you?" Riley asked as he stood in his doorway, waiting for the guy to speak.
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Post by Fitzy Patricks on Mar 11, 2011 5:23:20 GMT
"Is this your flower?" I ask through partly clenched teeth, closing my eyes wearily and thrusting out the rose the second the door opens. It's only after I've asked that I realize he said something, too, but I'm going to assume that my question can act as an answer, because I really just want to get this over with as quickly as possible.
Although, come to think of it, I maybe should've glanced at the guy before asking - seen if I recognize him. I hardly want to go about irritating any fellow Chosi. But I take a quick glance and... no. No way this guy is a Chosi. Squeaky clean puppy sort of look... kind of like Jake. He's harmless.
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Post by Riley Pearson on Mar 11, 2011 5:34:30 GMT
He asked if the flower was his and looked at it again, shaking his head slightly, "Not that I know of- why do you ask?" Riley asked, wondering why in the world he would bring a flower to him and ask him if it was his. Maybe it would make sense after he heard the whole story- if there was one. He looked at the flower again and tilted his head, squinting slightly at the tag on it. ".. Is that my name?" Why in the world would someone send him a flower? And better yet, why did they give it to this guy first?
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Post by Fitzy Patricks on Mar 11, 2011 5:45:26 GMT
"I have no fucking clue if it's yours," I say, not letting up on the scorn. "That's why I asked. Because there's there's no way in hell it's for me, but it was outside my door and all I can make out on the goddamn tag is a y. Does your name end in a y?"
I should have this speech memorized by now, except I keep alternately rambling on / shortening it, and also adding more curse words. By the time I get through with this floor it's likely to be, 'Take the fucking flower, for fuck's sake, before I fucking shoot you.' That'll be charming.
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Post by Riley Pearson on Mar 11, 2011 5:54:07 GMT
"Are you sure that it's not yours?" He asked hearing that he found it outside of his door. Then again, he also didn't know if his name ended in a y- and Riley's definitely did. "But yeah, my name's Riley." He glanced over to the door to see that the boards that had his name written on it also had a bunch of other scribbles that he could have sworn weren't there earlier. "I just don't know why anyone would give me a flower." Riley wasn't sure if he should take it or not, but he could imagine that whoever this guy was, he didn't want to be holding it anymore- which is why he took it from him so he could look more closely at the tag.
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Post by Fitzy Patricks on Mar 11, 2011 6:01:01 GMT
"You want it anyway?" I ask, rolling my eyes upward even as he takes it and I can cross my arms now. "There's no way in hell that anyone... well, anyone not deranged... would've given me a flower, so it's a lot more likely for you than me."
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Post by Riley Pearson on Mar 11, 2011 6:10:28 GMT
"Not so much- but I'll take it off your hands if you really don't want it." He crossed his arms and then shrugged at what he said about not anyone wanting to give him a flower. "Does your name end in y?" Riley asked a moment later. "Maybe someone did leave it for you.."
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Post by Fitzy Patricks on Mar 11, 2011 6:18:04 GMT
"Not bloody likely," I mutter, then raise my eyebrows. "Hell you've known me five minutes, but would you want to leave me a flower?"
I don't yet answer the first (implied) question, as I'm debating whether I should just let him keep it or actually track down the owner. Is it really so likely that it matters whether some stranger gets a rose today? Why do I feel this need to set such things to rights instead of throwing it away?
I also don't answer the other question, on the grounds that's too much to reply to all at once and he can assume whatever he wants.
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Post by Riley Pearson on Mar 11, 2011 8:27:46 GMT
He didn't answer his question about whether his name ended in y, but he did go on to ask him a question in return instead. "Can't say that I would.." Riley replied- his answer being no because of a few reasons- One, he was a guy; two, he wasn't exactly a bucket of sunshine; and three, he didn't even know his name and just met him. Though he could say that he looked sort of familiar; but that could be due to the fact that they seemed to live in the same building. "Look, either leave the flower or don't- I don't really care." Except that he did sort of care- he wanted to know who sent the flower in the first place- especially if the flower was for him. He was curious.
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Post by Fitzy Patricks on Mar 11, 2011 21:34:50 GMT
"There you go then," I mutter, pleased to have made my made. I eye the damned rose warily after that, before finally sighing. "Screw it. I may as well finish my quest. But you're sure that you haven't got a girlfriend or something who'd decide you need a rose? Or know anybody who might?"
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Post by Riley Pearson on Mar 11, 2011 23:55:42 GMT
"Go right ahead," Riley replied, handing the flower back to him a moment or so later. Hearing him ask if he was sure he didn't have a girlfriend or someone who would give him a rose, he shrugged, "I don't have a girlfriend- so unless someone.. likes me, or something- I have no idea."
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Post by Fitzy Patricks on Mar 12, 2011 0:00:58 GMT
"Hm...." I grimace faintly. "Well, that's a lot of help. You know anybody whose name ends in y?"
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Post by Riley Pearson on Mar 12, 2011 2:54:48 GMT
"And anyway, my name's on the door- so I don't know why they wouldn't have just left it here if it were for me." Though he could admit that the board where his name was located was a bit crowded... but still. He would also hope that if he did have a girlfriend she would know where his dorm was- or possibly just gave him the flower in person. Hearing the question he paused a moment in thought, "I know a Danny- the rest of the names I can think of are all girls." Which would be completely irrelevant- unless one of them left the flower.
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Post by Fitzy Patricks on Mar 15, 2011 2:25:16 GMT
"Well, girls can get flowers too," I shrug. "Also, our classmates are idiots. I'm not sure how long you've been there, but you out to've figured that out." I shrug again. I don't know why I'm even still talking to this guy - though it is quite refreshing not to hear the same tired jokes. And he reminds me of Jake, so I guess I don't want to be rude.
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