Generation 5: Chapter two

“And you’ll call us every day, you hear me?” June’s muffled sniffling rang in my ears as I stood on the pavement, hugging my adoptive father goodbye. Either I was imagining, or I actually saw a teardrop trickling down his cheek just before he pretended to scratch his face.

“Don’t worry, misses J. I’ll be protecting Krissy, and keeping her company at the same time,” Cara flashed a smile at June, placing a consoling hand on her shoulder.

“That’s what I’m worried about, you girls have a knack for getting up to no good,” Phillip shook his head, releasing me from his grip and dug around in his pockets, frantically searching for something.

Today was the day. It was the day that I was climbing out from behind my protective shell and venturing into the unfamiliar, outside world. At least, that’s what it felt like to me. When you’ve been huddled up in a small town like I had been for my whole life, the idea of taking a step outside your comfort zone ends up being a big deal.

After careful consideration, soaking up each word of wisdom my real parents and the caring couple of Ferrell’s had given me throughout the years, I had come to a satisfactory conclusion to what path I would follow: Music. My life revolved around creating music, listening to it, or figuring out the hidden meanings behind lyrics. When I listened to music, be it modern or old school, I loved to curl up in bed and listen to the instrumental of the song, thankful for it, because if it weren’t for the background music, all you would have is a voice that gave me a headache at times.

So it was a good thing that, from an early age, I had been preparing myself for a career in it, mastering several arts. Piano, guitar, and so much more...but my ultimate favourite would be the piano. The soft melodies that the instrument produced could always soothe me, even when I was in a terrible mood, ready to strangle someone.

The shiny object that Phillip tenderly removed from his right side pocket caught my attention, and he stretched out his palms, presenting it to me as a gift. “We only realized now that we’ve been skipping out on keeping you up to date with the latest technology...,” he paused, stealing a glimpse at his wife. She nodded reassuringly. “June’s sister has grandchildren who are always talking about the wonders of a phone and how you can keep in touch with people...so we got you one as well.”

“R-r-really?” The two had already done so much for me; it felt like a crime, accepting yet another gift. Out of the corner of my I caught Cara smiling broadly at the scene in front of her, as if she had a hand in what was going on.

All I knew was that I had amazing parents, adoptive or not, and a great best friend that cared about me. With them in my life, I felt like I could change the world.

Slowly but surely Cara and I packed the remaining suitcases into the trunk of the rental car, trying to ignore the nervous chatter coming from the two on the pavement. Just as my hand slid to open the car door, Cara stopped me. “You sure you want to do this?” she asked in a low voice.

“No,” sighing, I shook my head. “But if I don’t leave now,” I answered in the same low tone, “I’ll run back into that house and never go out again.” After giving a small nod, she left my side and climbed into the passenger’s seat. “Besides, I’ve already been accepted!”

It was a miracle that my application form had been accepted so late into the year, but according to Cara, they do make exceptions now and then, especially to those that show great potential. The fact that I got accepted on a whim reinforced the idea that I was on the right path.

“Alrighty, it’s just that I don’t want you to accuse me of bullying you into this when we reach our dormitory, okay...?”

I held back a chuckle. “Um...”

“What?”

“You actually DID bully me into this.”

“That’s your word against mine, and everyone seems to believe me, so you’ve lost that fight already,” she smirked, holding back a hand to examine her newly done nails.

With a swift roll of the eyes, I dismissed the conversation, turning my attention back to my parents on the side of the street. They were snuggled up close to each other, protecting themselves against the nip in the air. With a push of the button, the window whirred past me and I could stick my head out of the car to yell goodbye. “Goodbye...mom and dad.”

Instantly, the cold was forgotten, their faces alight with surprise. Sure, I had always called them by their names. I knew very well they weren’t my parents, and I would n't easily call them by a pet name, but never had I considered just what an impact that would have on them. So, the fact that I changed my usual greeting to something a little more personal seemed to brighten their day.

“G-goodbye sweetie,” June Ferrell, who I would, from that day onward, refer to as ‘mom’, stuttered briefly before recovering, and waved ‘goodbye’ alongside her husband. 

"Do you think there'll be any cute guys on campus?" Cara asked, snapping her fingers in my face as the car started speeding forward. "I mean, I've been there before to check it out, but everyone seemed to be in class at the time...total shitty timing on my part."

"Well." I took a breath. "I think if there are any around, they'll probably be too old for you anyhow."

She fell back in her chair with a huff. "Shit."

Chuckling at her frustration, I repeatedly checked the GPS to make sure that we were following the right path. Thank God for GPS. School didn’t exactly teach us how to read a map efficiently, and neither of us joined Girl Scouts or any kind of camp that helped us with direction. For two people that were raised in the countryside, we were surprisingly more like a city gal than anything else. After a few minutes of silence in the car, the GPS started beeping. We had just left the boundary of Appaloosa Plains, now on the road to the university campus.

“You have no idea how good it feels to get out of there.”

“Oh, I do,” Cara winked. “I’ve left plenty of times, but for some reason, I keep coming back. Probably because one of my most favourite people on this planet lives in that planet...otherwise, I’d never go back to that place.”

If it hadn’t been me that was driving, I would have peeked over my shoulder, watching how Appaloosa Plains was shrinking in the background.  Something was weighing heavily on my mind, something that should be kept a secret always. If I didn’t, a lot of people would get hurt.

The thing was...

I believed that, after university...

I wasn’t going to go back to Appaloosa Plains...

At all.

Coupled with all the good memories were horrible ones, the image of my parents’ death still haunting me at times when I was all alone, when there was no music to console me, no arms to keep me safe. Some may say I was running away from my problems. I wasn’t: I was simply putting the past behind me. What was the point of clinging to something familiar when that something only made me feel like crying inside?

That’s how I ended up rapidly wiping away the stray tears that were running down my cheek. “It’s too quiet in here,” I croaked, fumbling around with the controls of the radio.  Gosh, I only noticed now just what a depressed, selfish person I had been all along, always worrying about my own problems and feelings while never taking the time to listen to what others wanted to share.

That would change...but maybe five more minutes of self-loathing before I enforce that little promise on myself.

~

She jumped out of the car, just like a six year old that was excited to see her new dog. With the same carefree nature, she twirled around, catching the interest of a few new students. Oh yeah, I had a crazy best friend. “I don’t know her, nope,” smiling sheepishly I grabbed a suitcase and started lugging it towards the door.

Hands extended into the air, Cara made an announcement. “Stand back, bitches. The party has arrived at this dormitory.” The building had been in dire need of what Cara defined as a “party”. The exterior was coated with a gray paint, lacking imagination in oh so many ways. With the two of us staying at this dorm, we were going to put the life back into the dreary place..

“Let’s go check out our rooms,” my best friend started dancing into the dormitory, leaving her suitcase outside. One could only hope that no one was stupid enough to steal it.

“The rooms will probably look better than the outside, I think.”

Worst. Assumption. Ever.

When the door of our new room swung open, Cara and I stood there for at least 10 minutes, trying to find the right word to describe it.

Finally, I cleared my throat. “Um...”

“...Yeah.”

“It’s so green...”

“So green...”

“...And UGLY.”

“So ugly...”

Cara recovered, albeit unwillingly, checking underneath the beds (most likely for spider webs) and flitting through the books on the shelf. “It’s pretty clear no one’s been in this room for a while. And when I say ‘while’, I mean a REALLY long time.”

My best friend was all about being spontaneous. For once, I was going to take a page out of her book.

“What are you doing?” she enquired, her eyes following my every movement across the room as I started tearing the wallpaper off.

Holding out a piece of the broken wallpaper, I jerked my chin towards it. “Do you want to live in a room that looks like this?”

She bit down on her lip. “No…”

“Then what’s the problem? We can get furniture from other rooms that haven’t been occupied yet, and we can secretly repaint and redecorate this place. Trust me; we’re doing the place a favour. We can just blame everything on someone else that dropped out of university.”

“Krissy Duff,” Cara exhaled, “I like this side of you.”

My lips were twisted into a broad smile. “Let’s do this then.”

Not long after Cara reminded me to attend orientation, we found ourselves sliding down the rails of the staircase just like we used to when we were kids, hurrying through the door and nearly getting lost on the campus as we tried to find the welcoming party. Just for in case, I grabbed my camera on the way out. 

Hey, it was the first day of university: you never knew when something exciting could happen…or if your friend could make a fool of themselves in front of a crowd of people. Something that wasn’t unheard of.

As we strolled around, I found myself tugging at the dress, wishing that it would cover more of the skin that was now left barren and vulnerable. According to Cara, the dress code had been formal, but with the way she giggled at how uncomfortable I looked, as well as the way she dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, it had to be yet another practical joke.

When would I ever learn not to listen to my best friend?

Another thing that seemed like a joke was how friendly people on campus were, so friendly it surprised us both. Around every corner of a building there were students huddled together, but as soon as they saw us, they were eager to help us if we were lost (which we definitely were). What had happened to all the stories of how students were supposedly snobs, who only rolled their eyes in your direction?

Guess that only applied to high school.

“Seems like you’re going to be Miss Popular,” Cara whispered as we passed a group of boys that had been so absorbed in their books until we had come along. “Did you see the way they looked at you?! Total instant-crush if you ask me,” she smiled slyly, pulling me towards the building we had been looking for the entire time.

And right at that moment, just as we were about to step inside…a senior student jogged by, wearing no shirt and flaunting his muscles that could have been sculpted by Michelangelo himself. It didn’t take a genius to figure out I was going to be attending orientation all by myself.

Taking a deep breath, calming myself, I sighed. “If you want to run after the guy, go ahead.”

She beamed with delight. “Thank you! Take a picture just in case I don’t catch him, okay?”

“Fine,” as soon as I snapped a picture of the stranger (that I would be calling Cara’s future husband from that day onward), I waved goodbye, grumbling all the way till I entered the hall.

The entrance hall was filled with tables, all of them decked with snacks and cans of sodas, while some even had a few goodie bags stashed between the junk food. Unlike the tables, the walls were covered with banners with the university logo adorned across it, with a bunch of school flags were bundled together in a container, a sort of souvenir of your time here, I suppose.

Only after I heard someone ticking on a microphone to test its quality did I remember my real purpose here.

"Eh..." The speaker slammed at his chest while the rest of the audience chuckled at this show of professionalism gone bad. Whoever he was, I didn't think he was a lecturer. At least, that's what I hoped. "I know this speech was supposed to be orchestrated by my professor, Professor Frederick, but since he has, uh, taken ill I suppose, he asked that I take his place instead." He paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.  "Ladies and gentleman, I bid you welcome to today's events, specifically to the new students that have enrolled and are here today. As my professor once told me, not everyone is good enough to qualify for Claremont University, and the fact that you are here just goes to show that you are dedicated and talented, and this university wants to help you further that talent. I don't exactly want to give a history lesson today of all of Claremont's accomplishments and the exemplary students it has delivered, so if you are not yet convinced that you might the right choice, I advise that you take a whole afternoon and sift through the books at the library, where we have record of just how successful Claremont University is. For all of the new students, in the entrance hall you will find a map of the campus that you can take with you. Your class schedule with most likely be emailed to you, or you can pick it up from the main building in the center of the campus."

"Well..." The speaker tapped at the podium, breaking the silence that had ensued.  “I guess that concludes my speech. Does anyone have any questions for me? I'll try to answer as best as I can, but since I’m a student myself, I can’t make any promises that I will have the right answer.”

A blonde girl in the audience eagerly raised her hand. “Um, what’s the deal with our dorms? Like, what are our options?”

“Ah, I can answer that,” he smiled with obvious relief. “There are sororities and fraternities, of course, but we actually have two buildings that are for both genders if you don’t object to the way guys play loud music and walk around half-naked all the time.” That definitely got the blonde girl thinking, and just from looking at how she and her friends were chatting excitedly, it seemed like they were picking that type of dormitory.

Just for sports, I raised my hand. “Yes, the girl at the back, what’s your question?” he called to me.

I couldn’t help but smiled as I answered. “Well, for one, what’s your name?”

“Oh shi-, I mean, um…My apologies, I should have introduced myself at the beginning of my little speech. I’m Raymond Carter…and if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go now. Still have to study…and stuff.” He waved (quite theatrically) and shuffled off of the slightly elevated stage and towards the food table. 

“So…” Slowly, I approached the blue-haired male, afraid that he would run off – he looked truly jittery when he was on the stage. “What do you major in, Raymond Carter?”

As I was talking, he piled a load of pastries onto his own plate, offering some to me. I shook my head, and he continued. “I’m one of those crazy ones, you know, those who study Business.”

“Oh,” I nodded, understanding what he meant. In high school, we classified those people as Einstein’s, because the work they did and the subjects they had made absolute no sense to us. “You’re one of those. Not that it’s a bad thing, I mean,” 

I babbled. “I mean, people probably think I’m a crazy one, too.”

“Why would they…?”

I shrugged as I searched for something on the table that looked safe to eat. “There’s this stereotype surrounding artsy people. I’m majoring in Fine Arts, specifically music, actually. My name’s Krissy, by the way.”

He extended his hand politely for a hand shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Krissy. And you’re right, there is this generalization surrounding artistic people, but I’ll let you in on a little secret…”

Surprisingly enough, I was enjoying his company, and found myself asking the obvious follow-up question. “Which would be?”

“I don’t care about those stories,” Raymond winked, proceeding to stuff his mouth with a delicacy (making me hungry in the process, damn him) and swallowing it down with a sip of ice cold Coca-Cola.

“Well, it’s nice to know there are people like that around here,” peeking over my shoulder, I found Cara waiting in the entrance hall, dissatisfaction etched into her features. My shoulders slumped slightly, and I pointed at the door as if it would explain the whole situation. “I have to go offer my shoulder to a friend in need, but maybe I’ll see you around, Raymond.” As I waved goodbye, walking backwards towards the door, I nearly fell over my own heels, catching the attention of the entire room and making myself look like a complete fool.

Yet again, thanks to Cara for telling me I had to wear something formal.

Weeks passed by in a blur at Claremont University, and before I knew it, I was swamped under books I had to study and assignments I had to complete. 

Strangely though, I didn’t feel like I was following my dream, but I had to realize some time or another: Along with the fun, practical work (i.e., playing the piano, making music and whatnot), there’s also the case of the theoretical work that has to be done, whether we liked it or not. While there was still plenty of time before we had exams, our lecturer reminded us every day to prepare for finals.

I had been majoring in Fine Arts, while Cara had it a little bit easier, majoring in Communications. It was easy breezing for almost everyone there, though the class was filled with a large amount of people with no sense of humor – that was the rant that Cara gave every night. Something included in her daily rant was the guy I referred to as “Cara’s future husband”. In the time that has passed since our arrival, I had made friends with a lot of people on campus, and his name was on everyone’s lips. 

Devin Jameson. He made the girls on campus swoon like crazy. He was a player through and through, yet girls didn't mind spending one night with him just to be dumped the very next day. With him, there were no emotional ties; just a night to remember for the rest of your life, or so some of my new friends figured. The rumors were that even in towns close by, he was a well known visitor, as well as a regular at the hottest clubs in town.

Either these girls were insane, or I was. Why the heck would they be so desperate for the appreciation and acceptance of one guy when there were dozens, of guys on campus?

Yup, the logic of some people still had a knack of astounding me every once in a while.

It wasn't like he was trying to hide these relationships with other girls, either. I had the horrible luck of entering the living room of our unisex dormitory, only to find Mister Jameson smooching one of my classmates named Charissa, his hands exploring every inch of her body, probably begging her to abandon the clothing she had on.

That was certainly going to be the main topic to discuss in the next class.

Sure, he was probably attractive, with his muscular build complimenting his face which had an odd, rather "hard" look to it, especially his jaw line. And his eyes...Those had to be his instruments of war, the tool he used to put girls under his spell. One look from him and girls were mesmerized. I'll admit, even I felt my knees turn to jelly when I looked into his eyes.

But that was still a crappy reason to want to go out with him for just one night.

“He’s at it again,” at first I thought it was my own head that conjured that line, but a quick inspection of the room revealed another individual eyeing the rather disturbing picture in front of me. “She’s one of my best friends, and as much as we’ve talked about how much of an ass that guy is, there she goes, falling for him just because he paid her a bit of attention.”

“So what you’re saying is, he goes for loner girls that are begging for attention?”

The girl shook her head quickly. “No, that’s not it. He knows exactly when to say the right thing, I think. I heard the way he talked to her, and wow, it was pretty interesting.”

Averting my gaze from the couple in the corner, I shrugged, still not accepting that as a good excuse.  If that were the case, girls would have been all over poets, but it seems that they never get that kind of attention.  “At the end of the day, you still have free will. Do me a favor: Go take your friend by the arm and shake her till she comes to her senses.”

“If it’s not too late, I’ll try that.”

I had never been one to watch chick flicks, or any type of movie that involved a major amount of making out, so I left the room with no excuse or goodbye to the girl I had been talking to; instead, I took refuge in my revamped dorm room that I shared with Cara.

While there was still some peace and quiet in the room, I took the time to work on one of my art assignments. I certainly wasn't the best sketch artist on the planet, always messing up the eyes or the shape of the head, or lacking originality when I could go freestyle, so I didn't expect good marks for that class.

At least there was room for improvement, right?

As I sat there on my bed, drawing and occasionally rubbing out my idiotic mistakes and ruining the sketch, forcing me to start over again, my fingers were itching to stroke the strings of a guitar, to hear the soft sound that made my world feel complete. Alas, it was a wish I couldn't act on, with the girls next door yelling at how "irritating" the sound was. How superficial. Those were girls that were obsessed with the color pink, that wore only the best. 
In my opinion, their definition of "best" sucked.

"I GOT AN INVITE!" My pencil flew out of my hand, landing across the room just Cara burst into the room with a huge smile on her face, thrusting her smartphone in my face. "Read that. Not only did I get an invite to an awesome party at the swimming pool tonight, but you did as well! Check your phone!"

Rather than rub it into Cara's face that I had received plenty of invites in the past but had ignored them all, I checked my phone, and sure enough, there was a new message. "Yeah, I did. And here I thought I was going to stay in tonight and finish all these assignments of mine..."

Quite violently, she grabbed my arm, pushing me towards the wardrobe. "No 'buts'. Get dressed, or, in this case, undressed."

The walk to the swimming pool felt like it lasted forever. It was pretty secluded, far away from most of the dorms, so no one, that happened to find themselves closed up in their room and studying on a Friday night, could say that we were disturbing them.

Possibly the worst thing about walking all the way to the venue was that, well, we were half naked, with nothing to hide under, other than mere scraps of clothing. While most people felt pretty comfortable in swim suits, there were those that didn’t have the leanest of bodies to show off. I definitely fit into that category.

“Nonsense,” Cara brushed off my mumbled complaints. “You look great. It’s high time you start showing off more of those assets that you were blessed with.”

“You disturb me on so many levels, you know that?”

She simply shrugged. “When are you going to realize that you are pretty? I mean, you have a great tan even, and what do I have? All I have is the inability to tan and the gift of money to supply myself with a fake tan. But trust me, the fake stuff doesn’t last…which reminds me, I have to make another appointment…”

We still had two blocks to walk till we got to the swimming pool, but from far away I could see the party being set up. A DJ booth, some party lights, and a juice keg barrel were some of the things that were in the process of being hauled out of a delivery van.

Since it didn’t look like there were too many people around just yet, Cara and I split up, looking for something to do or to help set something up. In the meantime, I acquainted myself with the barkeep, which didn’t look too happy with his shift that evening.

“Is the bar open yet?” I asked, unsure whether or not I should be disturbing him. From the way he glared at the guests arriving, it probably wasn’t.

“Yeah, I guess,” he grumbled. “I just don’t know for how long; I’m gonna lose my job for sure. The DJ cancelled at the last moment.”

An idea sparked in my mind. “Oh. Well, uh, I can fill in for him? I’m pretty skilled in music, and I’m a fast learner, so maybe I can make it work.”

“Seriously? That’d be great!” he heaved a sigh of relief. “If you can, you’d be saving my ass.”

It can’t be THAT hard…, I figured

I hadn’t been too wrong. The DJ booth was pretty high-tech, and even came with an instruction manual for beginners, which helped a lot, but a book can only teach you so much – after that, it’s time to experiment, make mistakes and learn from them until you had the ultimate recipe for success; a musical melody that could give people the urge to dance and set the floor on fire. More and more students were arriving in cars by the time I had nearly mastered the art, and there were even a few new students like us that had to walk all the way to the venue. Already there were guys and girls dancing together (Cara being one of them, having grabbed a random person to dance with her). “Yo, DJ! Can you switch to dub step?” someone yelled from the edge of the pool, bobbing his head to the tune while he carried a drink in his hand.

The fact that people were swaying their hips, dancing with smiles on their faces or just simply bobbing their head to the music like that creepy dude from the side of the pool meant that I wasn’t the worst DJ on the planet, even though I had no real clue what I was doing right.

Along with requests for a certain song, a few individuals sneaked a tip over the edge of the booth, showing me ‘thumbs up’.  Should I give all the proceeds that I had rightly earned to the owner of this establishment? Probably, but it was, yet again, a time to follow a piece of advice I had gotten from Cara: Sometimes it’s a good thing to bend or break the rules.

Everything would have been perfect if it weren’t for a certain male’s presence that was skulking around the girls who were dancing in groups on the dance floor. Devin Jameson seemed to be picking out his next victim, and he did so discreetly, wearing a black t-shirt that accentuated his muscles rather than stripping down to his bare undies. Most of the girls would probably have fainted if he did do that.

With a drink in the hand, holding his head high over the crowd, he moved between the crowds until he found a spot close to the booth. The way he looked at me, his eyes studying my every move…it made it pretty hard to not look at him, or even do my job properly.

Then I realized.

He was scoping out his next target.

And he found her.

Me.

I was his next target.