
Ari gripped the edges of his mobile more tightly as he sat and listened to all of the passengers in coach cough and sneeze and wriggle around in their seats. It was exactly the type of situation he hated: small space, germs floating around, and absolutely nothing to do. Already his skin was crawling, but he was determined to cope. He had had to cope. After all, coping was the driving force behind his life so far. He'd coped with the foster care system after his parents had died. He'd coped with being adopted by too people far too old to be any fun as parents. He'd coped with Asher, even when the relationship turned abusive. He could certainly cope with this god-forsaken tin death tube and its 'technical difficulty' that had them stuck on this god-forsaken tarmac for just over an hour now. He could cope. At least, thats what he continually told himself.
Just then, his phone buzzed in his hand. Its was a text from Gus, one of his closest friends and bassist in the popular local screamo band. "Lucky s**t. All those yanks'll be all over your accent. Quite a few shirtlifters to be had I'd guess. You ********." Ari chuckled under his breath and started clicking out a response.
"Look whose talking. We both know you've had any and everything with two legs in all the county. Groupie monger. Fecking closet bender, too. And don't go crying 'lucky' just yet. This fuggin sucks, man. And not in the good sense." Two weeks ago, Ari Levine's life hit a new low. Or, at least, thats the way he felt about it. He'd just gotten back home to Guildford in Surrey from a trip to Montreal to visit a few friends who's defected. He'd come back home expecting a week of leisure before getting back to boy's prep with his friends. Only to find that his 'father' had decided to oversee the new American branch of his publishing firm personally. And that they'd all be packing up and heading to New York. It was his last year before university, he and his friends were to be having the best time of their lives. And instead Ari was sitting in a plane- not two days after getting from Canada- and heading back across the pond to go to some strange new school where no one would know or understand him. His senior year just went from best to worst of his life. There was no way New York had anything to offer that would make up for the loss of his friends, or his usual way of life. Christ, he couldn't even drink in his new home. This was going to be hell.
When his cab pulled up at The Rowensbrook School, Ari nearly died. Nuns. Fecking nuns. Which meant... Clearly there was a reason his 'parents' hadn't had much to tell him about his new school. They'd know just how adamant he'd be about finding him a new place if he knew the current one was a Catholic school. Ari could only be more Jewish if he'd kept the jewfro rather than cutting it back into his current faux-hawk. And Catholic school was one of the last places he'd ever want to be. So much that he believed in and so much of his lifestyle was directly against their doctrine. Ari piled out of the cab and slung his bag over his shoulder. Well, this was certainly going to be an adventure. As he climbed the steps to his building, the teen had to smirk as he wondered just how many boys he could bring back to his dorm room before the nuns caught on and had him kicked out...or exorcised.
Fishing into his pocket for the key the check-in desk nunhad given him was no easy feat in jeans as tight as the ones he was currently wearing. But it was his first day, and one of the few when he could wear his street clothes rather than the uniform, so he had to wear his lucky pair of black skinny jeans. There was no question. As he turned the key and swung the door open, Ari let out a low whistle. The room was just a bit smaller then those at Boy's Prep back home, but it had the same basic furnishings. Couple of dressers, desks, and two single beds. From the looks of things, the boxes he'd shipped from home had already been delivered to the room and whoever his roommate was hadn't arrived yet. Ari wasted no time in getting started with the unpacking. He had years of experience with this sort of thing, and he knew full well that having first pick of the furniture could be a real blessing. After some four hours of work, he was finished. His bed was lofted a meter or so off the floor, his alcohol stash hidden safely in a box underneath. His coveted vintage clash posters on the walls, union jack pinned to the ceiling over his bed, desk set, closet stocked, and dresser organized. The only thing left to do was fix his bed with the things his friend's had given him as a sort-of parting gift. All of the sheets, and blankets were black and white with differing patterns of jolly rogers. It was the punk cliche, and given to him for its ironic value only, but Ari had decided to use them anyway. At most he could hope it would scare off his roommate from talking to him the first couple of days.
With a quick scan around his room, the boy gave a nod of approval. Everything seemed to be in order and his side of the room looked almost over-done now when compared with the completely untouched other half of his room. Then, Ari's eyes fell on his reflection in the mirror bolted to the back of the door and he scrutinized the image he found. He'd need a haircut in the next week or so; his dark hair was beginning to grow long enough to show its unruly curl. He was a thin kid- always had been- with more limb than anything else on his frame. Growing up he'd always looked gangly and awkward with legs and arms far too long for the rest of him. But luckily, in the last few years he'd finally started to grow into his limbs and fill out a bit. He was still scrawny compared to most of the other blokes he knew, but at least now his chest was defined by the hint of his muscles rather than his ribs sticking out. Lifting his hands to his hair, Ari rubbed at the unruly mess rendered by two flights and hours of unpacking. The amber eyes that gazed back at him in the glass betrayed his utter exhaustion. The combination of jet lag and very little sleep the night before was obviously wearing on him and the thought of tossing himself onto his newly-made bed was quite inviting.
However, his roommate still hadn't shown. And by now night had fallen and Ari was more than a little curious. He shoved his feet back into his trusty beaten-up Chuck Taylors and locked the door behind him as he headed back down the stairs and over to the check-in desk to inquire after the empty half of his room. The nun presiding was different from the one who'd handed over his key, but seemed pleasant enough. She commented on his accent just like every other dumb individual he'd dealt with since landing in this hideous country, and then informed him that- due to complications- his roommate, ???, wouldn't be arriving until tomorrow. It was obvious the name meant something to Sister Mary-whatsherface and to the other students within earshot standing around the hallway. But it meant absolutely nothing to Ari. So he shrugged it off, thanked the penguin, and headed back to his room for some much-needed rest. Apparently his roommate was some big-to-do here in the city. The teen rolled his eyes as he peeled off his band tee and jeans and found some track pants to sleep in. Just what he needed, rooming with some idiot yank who considered himself a hot shot because his daddy did this that and the other thing. Well, he could deal with this kid tomorrow when he actually arrived. For now, all he needed was to dive under the covers and sleep off the exhaustion.
((don't worry, they wont all be that long and scary looking smile ))