Page 1 of This I Promise You
Easton
White Claw
I pop the trunk on my dinged-to-hell yellow hatchback. I didn’t pack a lot. There’s only so much that’ll fit in a single-room dorm beyond my roommate and me, so it’s good I’m not a clothes freak or hoarder. Around the back of the car, I pull my hands reluctantly from my hoody, instantly regretting it as the biting cold nips at my fingertips. Under one arm, I scoop up a cardboard box holding a few paperbacks from my to-read list—hardbacks are too expensive—a pair of new-to-me black tennis shoes, some pictures, and my meds. With my free hand, I drag one of my suitcases out and then start rolling up the sidewalk.
It’s not been a whole day and I already miss Boone and Denver. Hell, I want to get back in my little excuse of a car and drive back to Ahoskie. I like it here, I do, but my dorm doesn’t have the cutest little midnight-black Schnoodle, who I left whimpering as I walked out the door this morning, or a regal Belgian Malinois, who was a little more composed, though I’m sure he misses me too. Unfortunately off-campus housing is too expensive and on-campus housing means no pets, so they have to stay home with Dad.
I know they’ll be okay without me.
And if I go back I’m going to be a sophomore forever! I don’t want that. I scare my brain into believing I did the right thing. It’s never easy leaving them behind.
It can’t be warmer than forty degrees out here, which is about thirty less than I want it to be, and some skater-looking dude is still wearing shorts. The wind whips against my thick hunter-green UNC Charlotte hoodie and two layers of sweatpants. A shiver climbs through my bones as I walk past the Resident Life building, a few sort of familiar faces with their hands smartly tucked in their pockets, and across an open courtyard to my home for the next five months, Sandford Hall.
It doesn’t matter if it’s a move-in day like today or just a regular school day, my eleven-story monolith of a dorm has always given me mixed vibes since my cinnamon-intolerant roommate and I first lived here last semester. It’s sort of like a mix between a modern minimalist high-rise and an extra-large bomb shelter. I think it’s the white-painted cinder block walls inside that really screamrun for cover.
Inside, a wall of warmth greets my face and I see Taylor down the hall. She’s our overzealous and much too talkative RA, so I duck into the elevator and start tapping the sixth floor button repeatedly. My name whistles between the doors just as they shut, and my face morphs into a skewed victorious grin. When they open I find my way to room 617 and prop my suitcase against the wall. I stop to press my fingers against my temple. My eyes are still tingling. Whatever. I turn the key and push inside.
“What the…” Aidan yells, hands flailing. Something flies into the air and thuds against the wall. “Dammit. It’s just you.”
“Would you like me to go back out and knock?” I laugh.
“No,” Aidan huffs, his hands shooting down to cover his crotch where his pants are undone. “Scared the shit out of me though.”
I eye him suspiciously as I fetch my suitcase and he puts himself away. He hurries to pick up his phone off the floor, where I now hear another voice, and it all makes so much more sense. “I’ll call you back, hun.”
“Ty?” I ask, and he nods. “Giving him a show?”
“That’s betweenus.” Aidan pooches his lips and grins, which makes his cheeks bunch up and accentuates all the little freckles across his nose and cheeks. That’s definitely ayes.
“Uh-huh.” I drop my box on the elevated bed along the left side of the room and jump onto the mattress. “I don’t want to go back to my car.”
“Then don’t go back?” Aidan shrugs his little shoulders and lies on his back.
“But the White Claws are in my other suitcase.” I drop my head.
“Oh, then get your ass out there!” Aidan jumps up, his big brown eyes even bigger than usual.
I show him my middle finger, and we both burst out laughing.
We’ve been friends for a bit over a year now. I met him in Children’s Lit last year, my first semester here at Charlotte—the class was all about horror stories and children. It was a filler class for me, but Aidan’s an up-and-coming author even if he can’t see it, so he actually wanted to take the class, which meant he made a great final project partner.
“Where’s Ty at anyway?” I change subjects. I know he was just on the phone with him, but I thought he’d be here, helping A unpack.
“He’s in Greenville,” Aidan says. “He’s moving in today too.”
That’s right. His boyfriend started at Eastern Carolina last semester. I guess the move-in dates are harder to work around over winter break.
“Gotcha.” I shrug and then pose for a selfie on my bed. The first three suck ass, but the fourth works. I don’t hate everything about the way I look, but I don’t like it either. Geeky country guy just isn’t the vibe. “He’s going to be here for your birthday tomorrow though, right? I mean you’re turning twenty.”
“Hewillbe.” Aidan sighs. “Wish he wasn’t all the way on the other side of the state though.”
“Yeah.” I shrug. Me and relationships haven’t really had a way of working out, so I don’t know what it's like to have what A and Ty have, but they’ve got it. Makes me jealous sometimes but also sort of gives me a tiny shard of hope that my too-skinny ass might have a chance one day. “Least you got me.”
“Now Ireallywant that White Claw.”
Paul
And They Were Roommates
