Chapter 2: Chapter 2
The University wrought iron doors open up to a sprawling field that doubles up as the Soccer ground. A path surrounding the ground leads me to the Headmistress' office where I get my class schedules and of course, the dorm where I will spend the rest of my three year graduation course- No. 2612. I pull my luggage to the room, deposit them on the bed and look around.
Only another side of the room has a bed, and it is filthy. A few glass bottles are lying around, stashed under a cupboard which is half-closed. A grey t-shirt sits on the open door of the cupboard, and it doesn't look too clean. The remaining contents are obscured by it. The bed sheet needed changing two days ago, and it is littered with dried flakes of something. A gas lighter is half-hidden under the pillow, and the room smells strongly stale. I wrinkle my nose and proceed to examine my new schedule in the sunlight streaming from the window I just opened. The first block is Linguistics, I groan inwardly at my least favourite topic being the first class of first semester. Next Old English Literature is followed by Greek Mythology. I smile as I realise that the day wouldn't be as bad, since Greek Mythology is the one class I am looking forward to the most. Looking at the mirror to check myself out before heading out for class, I see a face, fair skin stretched on it with zero imperfections, two small eyes and a straight nose, ending over baby pink lips. My hair blows beside me in brown silky waves, and I stand there in my old clothes, a pink woollen sweater my mother made for me last Christmas, and simple denim jeans. I collect my backpack and books and get out of the room, sparing a look at my roommate's bed.
I'm vastly relieved to find that I'm the first one to arrive, so I'm able to choose my favourite seat. I sit exactly in front of the professor's table, so as to be able to understand the lecture better. I peruse my book to spend the time, as a few people start entering the class. None of them seem to want to sit on the first few seats, and the last row is filled one by one, and only two people are seated in the first and second row. It struck me odd, but then again, I got in here on scholarship, and many of the students look well-to-do enough to not care about education at all. A small, frail looking man enters the room and begins the lecture without any prologue. Mr. Jonas, who has taught at this college for the past twenty five years, drones on about the contributions of Saussure and Chomsky without paying the slightest attention if anyone is comprehending anything, which I am sure is deliberate, since a lot of people don't comprehend anything of Structuralism. The hour passes by in a blur, while I try to take as many notes as I can. And finally, the bell rings.
I look around at my classmates, trying to catch someone's attention, to introduce myself and probably make a friend or two, but everyone just leaves in a bustle, even before Mr. Jonas has left the room. I sigh, and sling my bag over my shoulder and follow them out.
The cafeteria is almost empty, except a few students here and there. In the centre, three small tables have been put together to form one big table where sit some of the most rowdy and loud students I have seen in my entire life. Some of them were in my class I think, but most of them look to old to be studying in a college. They cheer, jeer and laugh loudly at their own jokes, except for one girl sitting in the middle. She sits there, silent, concentrating on her food, and ignoring the ones around her. I look around and see another table in the farthest end of the room, with three seedy looking teenagers who were fidgeting nervously at the sight of the other group. I walk up to them with my food tray, and prepare to introduce myself. I give a small cough to catch their attention, and the tall, thin guy with wiry hair in the middle looks up in alarm, and upsets his bowl of soup.
The solid faced girl with dark curls to his right looks up and gives a small laugh.
"It's alright, Ayush. She's not going to eat you."
She stands up and puts up her hand to me. "Mriganka Pillai. You can call me Meg if you can't pronounce my name."
"Nice to meet you, Mriganka." She flashes a big smile unlike the one she has been giving me all this while. "I am Samara Dalton. Can I join you?"
The round faced boy with the glasses on the other side of Ayush moves to make place for me and smiles encouragingly. I take my place near him. He has a bright bubbly face and he looks not a day older than ten.
"Faheem Chaudhary. I think I have seen you before. Do you reside on the Hundred Pines Avenue?"
"I was staying there with a family. But I moved to the Dormitory this morning." I tell him.
"Cool! I stay there as well. Which room are you in?" Mriganka chimes in.
"2612"
Ayush trembles again as his spoon falls from his hand and knocks over the bowl. Thankfully it is almost empty by now.
"What's wrong with you, moron?" Mriganka shouts.
Ayush, who hasn't said a word yet, goggles at me with his mouth open, he doesn't seem to have realised that his tray was a mess.
"You're staying with Samantha Sammons?" He looks at me with a mixture of awe and fright.
All three of them looks at me like I have lost my mind, or they have. They look at me and then look at the rowdy table. I turn to look at them and then I see Mriganka shaking her head and miming something to Ayush. She stops the moment she notices me watching her.
"I don't know who my roommate is, actually. When I went to the room, she must have left it, and I haven't met her yet. Why? Who is she?" I ask, curious.
"Oh, you'll know soon enough. What class have you got after this?"
"Old English Literature. What about you?"
"Applied Mathematics. Ayush and I both have the same classes. Faheem is due for C++ Beginners. And there's the bell! See you, Samara."
She waves and runs off with the other two.
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