2. Better Than Expected

Chapter two

Better Than Expected

A fter wandering aimlessly for what feels like an eternity, the exhaustion and the weight of my situation begin to settle in. My feet, aching from the constant trek through the dimly lit streets of San Francisco, plead for a moment’s respite. Finding solace at the edge of a gutter, I sit down, the cold concrete a harsh reminder of the reality I now face. Alone in a new city, with nightfall encroaching, my mind races through options. A part-time job, a modest studio apartment – these seem like distant dreams now. The university might offer temporary housing, but with the offices closed, that hope too dims like the streetlights around me.

As I sit there, lost in thought, a sudden voice shatters the stillness of the evening. “Hello.” Startled, I leap to my feet, my heart pounding in my chest. Before me stands a figure, his voice deep and calming. His eyes, a piercing shade of blue, capture my attention instantly, gleaming in the soft streetlight. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, a slight smirk playing on his lips as his blonde hair catches the light. His companion, equally striking but with tan skin and hair and eyes of a shimmering silver, stands beside him. I find myself wondering if his unique eye color is natural or the magic of contact lenses.

“Sorry, I just didn’t expect anyone,” I stammer, my eyes still locked with the first man’s captivating gaze.

“We noticed you’ve been sitting here for a while with your luggage. Waiting for a taxi?” His tone is casual, but I can’t help but wonder how long they’ve been observing me.

“No, I’m...just figuring out where to stay tonight. Can’t stay at the sorority house I was supposed to,” I admit, feeling a vulnerability in revealing my situation to these strangers.

“You’re a sorority sister?” The question comes with a hint of surprise.

“Well, not exactly. It’s a long story. I just got to the city today, and well, things didn’t go as planned.,” I confess, a lump forming in my throat.

The other man, his stance relaxed yet alert, interjects with concern. “It’s not safe on the streets at night. Do you have any family here?”

“No, no family, I was thinking of trying to find a motel, maybe,” I reply, trying to downplay my predicament.

The two exchange a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. Then, the first one, with those mesmerizing blue eyes, speaks up. “You know, we have a spare room.” He gestures towards an old-style manor next door, its white, wood-plaster exterior framed by a vibrant array of plants. The absence of a pathway explains why I hadn’t heard their approach, and how they had been watching me. “I know a frat house is probably the last place you want to be, but it’s better than the street, right?” He offers, his tone earnest.

His friend, quick to reassure, adds, “The room’s got a lock, and we won’t tell the others about you being there until you sort things out in the morning.” Their kindness catches me off guard. They don’t fit the stereotype of fraternity guys I’ve seen portrayed in media. Hesitantly, a small smile finds its way to my lips. “I’m Hugh,” the silver-haired enigma introduces himself.

“And I’m Nolan,” his friend extends his hand, which I shake, still slightly in disbelief at this unexpected turn of events.

“I’m Amelia. Thank you, Hugh, Nolan. This means more than you can imagine.” As I speak these words, I realize that for the first time since my arrival in this city, I feel a glimmer of hope, a sense that maybe, just maybe, things might start looking up.

The first light of dawn filters through a cracked window, bringing with it a crisp, chilly breeze that stirs me from my slumber. I shiver slightly, the unexpected cold causing my nose to tingle unpleasantly. Propping myself up, I take a moment to survey the room in the soft morning light. Last night’s darkness had concealed its details, but now I can see the stark emptiness of the space. It’s clear this room was hastily vacated; the bare walls and unoccupied beds speak of a sudden departure. Their former fraternity brother’s sudden move back home had left this room unclaimed - a stroke of luck for me in my current predicament.

After changing into fresh clothes, I cautiously unlock the door, keenly aware of the promise made by Nolan and Hugh. According to my watch, the fraternity house should be stirring with morning activity. I edge out of the room, my steps light as I navigate the hallway, trying to remain as unobtrusive as possible.

Reaching the stairwell, I catch glimpses of a group of guys engaged in a low discussion. I hesitate, not wanting to interrupt but aware of my need to leave and seek assistance from the university’s housing office. As I’m about to turn away, a sudden encounter startles me, causing me to yelp and recoil, my head thudding softly against the wall.

Before me stand three identical faces, their striking green eyes assessing me with a mix of curiosity and caution. They don’t offer help, merely observing as I regain my composure.

“Hi,” one begins.

“You must be Amelia,” the second chimes in.

“Sorry if we scared you,” the third adds.

Gathering my wits, I respond with a nervous jest, “Seems like startling people is a frat boy specialty.” I turn to find more faces now in view, including Nolan and Hugh, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.

Nolan steps forward, his manner formal yet friendly. “Apologies for waking you. These are the triplets - Niles, Richard, and Hendrik. Be wary of your belongings around them,” he warns with a hint of humor. Glancing down, I realize my silver watch is missing, only to spot it in the smirking middle triplet’s hand. Snatching it from him I go to place it back around my wrist, following Nolan further into the living room. “And, even though I know you won’t be staying tonight, I feel it’s only polite to introduce, this is Kane and Reyes,” Looking at the two boys sitting on the windowsill ledge, they couldn’t possibly be more different. Kane appeared to be ready to go out in a snazzy dress shirt and thin folded blazer, but Reyes was the definition of the school goth kid - we used to have a few of them at my old school. “, Seth, Hunter and Echo.”

“And I am Valentine.” Valentine, his hair tied in a man-bun, steps forward with a flair of overconfidence. His attire is casual to the point of being inappropriate for a college setting. He takes my hand, his intentions clear in his flirtatious gaze and words. His advance is too forward, too presumptuous. “Perhaps instead of rushing off, you would like to stay by my side this morning embraced in a feat of passion. I can show you what it’s like to be with a real man, and perhaps show you again afterwards.” In a reflex of self-defense and disgust, I step on his foot, causing him to release my hand as I step back.

The room falls silent, everyone’s expression a mixture of shock and disbelief. Nolan steps protectively between us, and I can’t help but feel grateful for his intervention. Attempting to diffuse the awkwardness, I apologize, though my tone suggests I find Valentine’s behavior more repugnant than regrettable, “Sorry, I was probably a little out of line there,” I comment, “, but dude, that was gross. Just cause I’m in a sorority doesn’t mean I’m looking for a quick-snap play date.” Everyone, well everyone except the guy that was pointed out as Seth earlier, still appears very surprised by the events that just unfolded.

“Don’t be sorry.” Nolan comments. “We’re just surprised, girls usually do fall for that.” I make a face that causes a few of them to muffle laughter. I don’t understand how any girl would fall for that nonsense, but how drunk did he expect me to be at eight in the morning?

“Were they high?” I ask, half-joking but genuinely curious about the absurdity of the situation. Valentine, his pride evidently bruised, retreats to the couch, squeezing in among the others.

“The school admin team is usually available from eight in the morning. Some of us are heading there now if you want to join us.” Passing off a grateful nod I go back up the stairs to collect a backpack of things I’ll need today. Notebooks are always a requirement, but I don’t have a class until ten, hopefully, I can sort out permanent accommodation until then.

The sprawling campus of the university feels even more expansive than I remember from my visit last year. Accompanying me to the administration office are Nolan, Hugh, and Seth. Nolan, who I learn was the school captain at the prestigious Harvard-Westlake School, commands a certain respect and attention, even from the college staff.

Upon learning that all two thousand student accommodations are already filled, a wave of disappointment washes over me. “There’s seriously no room?” I ask, struggling to mask my dismay.

The woman behind the counter, Beth, offers a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry dear, is there family you can stay with?” she inquires. The question stings a bit, reminding me of my family’s distant relationship and our move away from here years ago.

Seth, ever the quick thinker, steps in with an unexpected offer. “Yes, she’s my cousin. She can stay with me,” he says, draping an arm around my shoulder. His claim isn’t too far-fetched, given our similar physical features – dark brown hair, amber-tinted eyes, and even our matching heights.

Nolan, with a subtle but firm elbow nudge, prompts Seth to reconsider his hasty offer. “Hey Seth, maybe you should check with everyone else at the house before making that kind of suggestion?” he says, his tone hinting at the need for a more collective decision.

Beth, behind the counter and eager to resolve the situation, begins to interject, “Well, sweetie, if you’re comfortable staying with—“

But Seth, with a hint of mischief in his eyes, turns to Nolan and playfully challenges him. “Nolan, do you really think I could make a bad suggestion?” His question hangs in the air, loaded with an unspoken understanding between the two.

After a moment of contemplation, Nolan concedes with a reluctant nod. “Alright, yeah, she can stay with us.” The decision, although made quickly, seems to be in line with the frat house’s spontaneous spirit.

Feeling a mixture of gratitude and apprehension, I quickly interject, “I’ll find other accommodations. I just need to find a part-time job that will work with school hours. I won’t impose long.” Hugh, ever the reassuring presence, shakes his head, a half-smile playing on his lips.

“Don’t worry about imposing,” he assures me. “You do you, and we’ll make sure everyone gives you space.” Their kindness is overwhelming, a stark contrast to what I’ve experienced back in L.A., where genuine kindness often feels like a rare commodity.

As the doors of the administration office close behind us, I can’t help but ponder over Seth’s spontaneous declaration. His impulsiveness, though slightly problematic, reveals a heart in the right place. The way Nolan and Hugh trust him, their camaraderie evident in every glance and gesture, makes me long for such connections.

Seth hurries to catch up with me, his expression apologetic. “Sorry for blurting out that we’re cousins,” he says, sincerity resonating in his tone. “I just didn’t want Beth to think it was weird for you to stay with us.”

I can’t help but smile at his concern. “That’s very considerate. Thank you, Seth. It was quick thinking on your part,” I respond, appreciating his effort to smooth over what could have been an awkward situation.

“Any time,” he replies with a casual shrug, shooting a glance at Nolan and Hugh, who are a few steps behind. He then strides off, presumably back to his own schedule. I turn to Nolan and Hugh, noticing the contrast in their reactions. Nolan’s brow is furrowed with a thoughtful concern, perhaps mulling over the potential repercussions of our impromptu living arrangement. Hugh, on the other hand, seems amused, a smirk playing on his lips as if he’s seen this kind of scenario unfold before and knows it’ll work out in the end.

Checking my watch, I realize the day is still young. A sense of curiosity about campus life bubbles within me. “There are other kinds of clubs and activities here, right?” I ask them, eager to learn more about what the university offers beyond academics.

Nolan’s expression shifts from concern to mild surprise. “Of course, there are plenty. What interests you? I’m surprised you didn’t leaf through the pamphlets before arriving,” he says, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

I admit to my preoccupied mindset before the sorority fiasco. “My initial plan was to immerse myself in sorority activities, but now I’m keen on exploring something more creative. Is there a drama club here?”

Hugh chuckles lightly, possibly recalling some inside joke or stereotype about drama clubs. “Yeah, there is one. It’s not usually full. You might find it interesting,” he says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Grateful for the information, I thank them and take a deep breath, ready to explore the campus on my own. “Cool, thanks,” I say, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness about venturing into unfamiliar territory

As Nolan and Hugh wave goodbye, I’m left alone with my thoughts, a map of the campus in my hand. The numbering system of the lecture halls seems like a cryptic code waiting to be deciphered. Stepping onto the bustling pathways, I feel a surge of independence. The day stretches ahead, ripe with the promise of new experiences, challenges, and perhaps even a venture into the dramatic arts. I take my first steps with a sense of determination, ready to embrace the unknown and carve out my place in this new world.

Exhaustion weighs heavily on my shoulders as the day draws to a close. The chaos of my first day at university left me drained – my frantic search for the lecture hall had me arriving late, the rapid-fire lecture left me noteless and bewildered, and the cafeteria’s lack of food coupled with my forgotten wallet meant I went hungry. To cap it all off, I mistakenly wandered into the wrong class, where the professor’s harsh reprimand for a drop-out I wasn’t even planning stung deeply. My afternoon, spent trudging from one coffee house to another in search of a job, yielded nothing but polite refusals.

With a stroke of luck that felt almost ironic, I find myself back at the fraternity house. Apprehension gnaws at me as I enter; the house buzzes with energy, and I brace myself for whatever reactions my presence might have stirred among the fraternity members.

Stepping through the door, the source of the noise becomes clear – it’s coming from the dining room. I hesitantly peer around the doorway and am greeted by the sight of a long, hall-sized table surrounded by guys deep in conversation and laughter. Most faces are familiar, but my eyes are drawn to one I don’t recognize sitting near the end of the table.

“You’re Amelia, right?” he calls out, catching my gaze. “I’m Byron.” He extends a hand across the table, and I lean over an empty chair to shake it. His friendly demeanor is a small comfort. “Do you want something to eat? We’ve got plenty here,” Byron offers, motioning to the array of dishes on the table. Kane and Seth, sitting to my right, nod in acknowledgment before returning to their meals. Their manners, surprisingly refined for a group of college guys, contrast sharply with the chaos of the day I’ve had. The aroma of the food is tempting, hinting at homemade quality.

“Thank you, maybe I’ll grab some later if there are leftovers,” I respond, though my stomach protests at the delay.

Valentine scoffs at the idea. “What planet do you live on? When do a bunch of guys ever leave leftovers?”

Kane retorts without missing a beat, his mouth full. “You leave leftovers all the time.”

Valentine’s comeback is swift. “No one asked you, Flounder.”

Echo, trying to play peacemaker, chimes in. “Easy, gents. And he’s right, you do leave food behind most nights.”

Valentine, not one to take a comment lying down, shoots back a playful yet sharp retort. “Watch it, Tinkerbell. I’ll make you regret that.” The banter, filled with good-natured jabs and nicknames, is interrupted by a series of kicks under the table aimed at Valentine. It seems that this kind of ribbing is par for the course here.

Feeling the weight of the day, I excuse myself. “Goodnight, everyone,” I say, trying to slip away unnoticed. But to my surprise, a chorus of voices calls back, wishing me a good night. The warmth in their tones, the sense of belonging – it’s unfamiliar but comforting. As I retreat to the sanctuary of my temporary room, a smile tugs at the corners of my lips. Despite the day’s trials and the uncertainty that lies ahead, this small moment of camaraderie, of being acknowledged and included, feels like a balm to my weary soul.

I kind of like it here. Maybe, just maybe, this place could be a new beginning for me.