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Chapter 10
Lou
Becoming a proactive student is a lot harder than it looks.
I head to the library straight after class thinking I’ll get a head start on the bet I made with Wes. Turns out two hours sitting in front of a computer doesn’t encourage productivity unless you actually start writing. Or, you know. Choose a topic to research.
I’m not even sure how I managed to kill two hours with absolutely nothing to show for it. I remember reading the assignment sheet, opening my web browser, and then… nothing. Well, notnothing, it just so happens the moment I opened my web browser I received a notification that my favourite anime series released a new episode. And for menotto watch it would only be morally depleting, thus affecting my essay-writing abilities. Plus, the episode was only about forty-five minutes long… although the next hour spent brushing up on fandom feeds was probably not my best idea.
So, mistakes were made but you can’t expect me to abandon all my procrastination tendencies on the first try.
I trudge back to my dorm, feeling oddly defeated. I was hoping to roll up to Wes’ dorm, finished essay in toe, and slap it proudly down on his desk with a snarky remark. After this afternoon’s efforts, however, the only thing I could slap down is a summary of that anime episode. Not quite the victorious image I had in mind.
I walk into the dorm and freeze. Sometime between my last class and my non-productive library session, Stella converted our living room into a dance floor. The two patchy sofas are pushed back against the walls, the TV is tucked further in the corner near our bathroom, and in the center of it all, Stella is moving her hips in time to the music blasting from her phone lying on the floor.
“Oh-oh, that’s what makes you beau- LOU!” I flinch as her singing switches to a shriek.
“Come join me. I’m practicing for this weekend.” Stella adjusts the grip on her hairbrush, which I’m assuming is her substitute for a microphone. I frown, trying to remember what I’d agreed to this weekend.
“Are we clubbing again tomorrow?”
“No, silly. We’re attending the first Punk Rockers convention, remember?” I nod slowly, unwelcome butterflies filling my stomach. Out of all the clubs Stella and I signed up for, this is the one I’m most excited about. It’s also the one that will hurt the most if I find myself on social outskirts again.
“You know One Direction doesn’t count as alternative rock, right?” Stella waves my comment away.
“Minor details. The important thing is there’s going to be a karaoke stage, so we’ve got to be ready.” She resumes her hip sways, while I gawk in horror.
“Stella. I am not doing karaoke during our first club meeting. I can barely dance, let alone sing.” And Wes won’t be there to walk me through the awkwardness.
At the thought of Wes, I jolt, whipping out my phone to check the time. “Crap. I’ve got to run. I’m meeting Wes for an essay-writing workshop.” I shift from foot-to-foot, debating my chances of making a break for it as my tiny roommate whirls around to face me.
“Where is this essay-writing workshop taking place?” Darn it. Missed my chance.
“I’m supposed to be at his dorm ten minutes from now.” And considering his residence building is across campus, I’m going to have to run to make it on time. Nothing like showing up sweaty and out-of-breath for a study date. Er, I mean study session. Definitely study session.
“Sounds cozy. Is this a date then?”
“Absolutely not.” I shake my head vehemently, choosing to ignore the fact I had the same train of thought moments before.
“Interesting. Are you wearing that to your hangout?” I look down at my Nirvana shirt clumsily tucked into my mom jeans. I check my phone again. Down to seven minutes.
“Yup. Now, I’ve really got to run. I’ll text you when I’m on my way home.” I catch the mischievous gleam in Stella’s eyes as she shuffles over to give me a quick hug.
“Alright baby girl, have fun and make sure to give mama all the details when you get home. I expect a full debrief over breakfast.” She playfully taps the side of my nose.
“I’ll be home much sooner than breakfast, Stella.”
“We’ll see about that. Now, get your cute butt moving or you’ll be late!” I’m halfway out the door when my roommate yells one last encouragement.
“Oh, and don’t forget to give your boy a big smooch for me!” The door slams shut, and I pray the heat in my cheeks will be gone by the time I make it to Wes’ dorm.
I arrive two minutes late, which all things considered, is pretty impressive.
At Taber, all the varsity teams get put together in the residence buildings lining the East side of campus, while the rest of the students live on the North side. The reasoning behind the separation is to help shorten the athletes’ commute to the fitness centre as well as promote team bonding. The East side’s proximity to the weight room and playing fields gives varsity players an extra few minutes of sleep before morning practice, and it helps to keep the noise complaints to a minimum.
Most of the teams run on a similar schedule (re: an ungodly amount of before-dawn exercise), so when 5am practices are looming, none of the players want to be disrupted by parties thrown by students who have nothing better to do with their time. Likewise, when tournament season ends and exam season begins, the athletes are ready to make up for lost time whereas the year-long partiers are ready to crack down to study. By splitting up residential buildings, Taber increases convenience while keeping the campus interconnected.
I text Wes, letting him know I arrived, and wait by the door. Each residence building has an automatic locking system with individual access cards per unit. So, my access card doesn’t get me into Wes’ building and his card wouldn’t get him into mine. A simple system but one that ensures the students’ safety.
