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Chapter 1
Lou
First days are the worst.
Take today for example: my first day of university.
Yup, you got it. I am that freshman carrying those boxes looking that awkward and feeling that out of place. And yes, I am aware that everyone is in the same boat as we embark on these so-called “best years of our lives,” but trust me this isn’t a boat anyonewants to be on. You know the famous scene where the titanic breaks in half and becomes a vertical death trap? That’s it. That’s the boat we are all on right now.
Rock meet bottom. Boat meet iceberg.
“Lou, quit dragging your feet and hurry up. We’ve got to get you unpacked in time for orientation,” my mother huffs as she lugs two boxes through the narrow doorframe of my dorm room. Let’s keep in mind the orientation she’s referring to is set to commence no sooner than four hours from now. My mother is nothing if not punctual.
As I step inside the room that will be my new home for the next eight months, one claustrophobic thought hits my mind: I hope the poor sucker who gets paid to sanitize these rooms gets paid well. On that note, please let someone get paid tosanitize these rooms. Because looking at the sad Styrofoam pad pressed tight against the far wall - am I supposed tosleepon that? - the random dents dotting the walls, and the miscoloured splotches decorating the room from floor to ceiling; my faith in Taber University’s health inspections is rapidly declining. If someone brought a blacklight in here, I have no doubt it would look like a crime scene.
Oh God, that mattress would probably glow entirely.Ew.
“Mom. I can’t stay here. Think about how much DNA and germs are on that-
“You must be Lou! Hi, I’m your new roommate Stella.” My pleas for a quick escape abruptly get cut off by a pretty blonde sticking her head through my doorway. My mother beams and shoves me forward.
“Nice to meet you Stella,” stumbling towards the stranger I’ll soon be living with, I hold my hand out for a shake.
Stella maneuvers the rest of her body into the tight quarters and I take a second to survey my shockingly tiny new roommate. Barely coming up to my shoulder, Stella’s height, or lack thereof, does nothing to lessen her dominant presence as she struts forward to take my hand. Rays of sunlight stream through the miniature corner window, and as the beams bounce of Stella’s hair, I realize that my initial assumption of blonde was not totally correct. The shade is more of a pretty platinum with silver undertones, drawing a sharp contrast against the dark blue colour off Stella’s eyes.
“Do you have to put up your hair to sit down?” I blurt out the question as Stella moves to shake my hand, her waist-length hair moving like a perfectly coiffed curtain behind her. You would think the length would be off putting but paired with her skin-tight black tank, camo joggers, and combat boots, this little G.I. Jane model somehow pulls it off.
She laughs, “No, although I’d be lying if I said I’ve never sat on it before. If you see me shifting in my seat in class, chances are I’m trying to release pieces stuck under my bum.”
I smile in understanding. My own not-quite-curly yet not-quite-straight locks fall just below my shoulders but still manage to get caught on every surface possible. So far, my trick to wear a ponytail most days has yet to fail me, but when it does, it will be 2007 Brittany all over again.
My description of Stella’s small frame was accurate but only in terms of height. Tilting my head to get a better look at my roommate, who can’t be more than five foot one in those combat boots, her frame isn’t petite so much as lean with some seriously impressive arm definition. Picture a Malibu Barbie who decided to trade in her convertible sports car for a gym membership. Now, throw in some high-quality hair dye, a friendly smile, and eight months of living together and you’ve got my roommate.
When the silence stretches long enough to become uncomfortable, Stella finally wishes me luck with unpacking and heads back to her room. The door clicks gently behind her, and my mother turns to me, clapping her hands with glee.
“You’ve already made a friend! I told you university would be different from high school. And my goodness, isn’t your roommate just adorable. I want to pack her up and take her home with me.” My mother squeals and wraps me in a hug, already forgetting the fact Stella is one wall away and well within hearing distance.
“One conversation doesn’t qualify as a friendship, mom.” I sigh the words against her chest, the all-too familiar jaws of panic clamping around my neck.
“No, but it’s a good start,” my mother squeezes me tightly and I will myself to grasp onto the shred of hope in the air.
University will be better than high school. It has to be.
Wes
First days are the best.
Fresh faces, new places, and an entire campus full of independent women who are ready to let loose? Say hello to the best year of my life.
Before you jump to conclusions, however, let me state for the record I am not your average playboy. Do I hookup with a different woman every week? Of course. I’m not a monk. But unlike some of my teammates, who undeniably fall into the hound dog territory, I respect women. Difficult to accept, I know, but let me put it to you this way: no matter what shape or size a woman is, her body deserves to be loved. And I, Wesley Williams, Taber Tigers’ soon-to-be lacrosse rookie of the year, am more than happy to help her realize the pleasure waiting to be unlocked on the path to self-love.
So long as no emotions or promises are attached, I am like any other feminist devoted to positive body appreciation: give love and be loved. The only difference is my methods are a bit more hands on than your average spokesperson. But let me assure you, the same appreciation is achieved in the end.
I’ve been told my techniques areverysatisfying.
Being signed to a varsity team means I moved in a couple weeks ago for pre-fall training camps. A benefit in my opinion, because now I’ve not only had the chance to explore campus and scout out the best hookup spots - hey, you can’t play the field if you don’t know all the field positions - but it also means I get to welcome the non-varsity students onto campus.
The first day jitters have long since worn off, but I’ve got to admit, watching the parking lot fill with students and parents jumping out to unload every box size possible gives me an unexpected thrill. Until now, I didn’t notice how dormant the campus was with just the varsity teams in residence.
