Opposites attract - 1. Chapter 1

I didn’t want to return to my dorm room. Not yet. I would indulge in just one more little delay, before I would have to endure its half-emptiness. A Latte Macchiato from the college cafeteria would buy me another quarter of an hour. Josh moving out of our room, which we had shared for two years, had been devastating for me. He had become more than a roommate. He was my friend, one of my best friends. His departure after graduation had been an inevitable fact, a fact which I had been too good at ignoring. Now I was confronted with its finality and the loss hit me even harder. I missed our discussions, ranging from simple banter to philosophical discourse. Josh had been an English major and was an expert on poetry, I had finally decided on becoming a math major last term. We had spent hours talking about logic in language, logic in mathematics, logic in general. Even more, I missed his mere presence, simply knowing that I was not alone.

I didn’t have many friends here at college. Besides Josh, there was only Rob, short for Roberta, who I considered a close friend. She lived in the same dorm as me, third floor. She was studying to become an electrical engineer, a person you could trust without reservations and brutally frank. You just had to love her… or hate her. Rob polarized. There was nothing ‘in between’ about her. She was to arrive in three days time, on Sunday evening, and till then I would be on my own.

That wasn’t exactly true. Room administration had informed me by letter that

“Kevin Schneider will arrive on Thursday to share room 204 with you. Kevin is studying physical therapy and physical education in his third year transferring from State University. Please welcome him heartily to our learning community. We are sure that you will complement each other well bla bla bla”.

That was the other reason I was avoiding to return to the room. I was in the paradoxical situation of feeling alone, while not wanting to spend time with a stranger. A stranger who would enter my life this afternoon.

I had tutored fellow students the entire morning. My third term in Bergmont College was about to start next week, but the officially sponsored tutoring program had started weeks before the official courses did. So I had spent much more time in the loneliness of my room than I really had needed.

Though the program was to blame that I had to be here now, it was also a welcome opportunity. Professor Smyth, my Calculus professor, had invited me into the tutoring job to help the ‘mathematically underprivileged’ being his exact wording. A teaching career in mathematics, especially at a college, was a very appealing possibility. The program helped me to keep in the subject and gave me teaching experience... and some extra frustration. My pupils had the tendency not to be very cooperative most of the time, though I gave my best to prepare them for the upcoming term. When Prof. Smyth was explaining mathematics, it felt like he was revealing the mysteries of the universe to you. For most of my fellow students, Calculus was exactly this: an unsolvable mystery. But everyone loved Prof. Smyth’s courses, despite their difficulty. It was still a long way for me to come to this point.

Having finished my Latte, I was finally on my way to the dorm. Many other places I would have preferred to be came to my mind, one of them being home.

I missed Mom and Dad. Our relationship had deepened even more, when I had come out to them shortly before leaving for college. Mom and Dad had lived through the standard phases of a kid coming out to them:

1. the “it's a phase”-phase
2. the “it's our fault”-phase, the dominant mother and absent father stuff
3. the “it's ok, we love you nonetheless”-phase

Perhaps not exactly standard... in the LGBT meetings at college, I had heard many stories of parents not being that supportive and worse. I actually called Mom and Dad after such a meeting to tell them that I loved them. That frightened the hell out of them, and they asked me whether I was taking drugs or if I was fatally ill. I was pissed at their reaction then, but in hindsight, it was funny and I had to grin at the memory. Family… that was my older sister Tiffany as well. My emotional spectrum for her covered everything from “my dearest sister, foundation of my heart and soul” up to “you fucking bitch, go and get run over by a train, please”. We had quite a normal sibling relationship, I assume. She has been married for three years now to Marc, the best brother-in-law one could imagine.

“He is too good for you” I had said to my sister.

She had shrugged and answered

”I know.”

Their son Christopher was now two years old and the cutest child in the world. I was his godfather and though I wasn't at all involved in his making or uprising, I was quite proud of him.

I had arrived at the dorm. On the days I was not avoiding my room, I very much liked that building. The dorm was made of red brick, which gave it a classical touch. Small patches of flowers winded along with the gravel path leading to the entrance. A solid wooden double door with large glass panes gave way to the hall. A mismatched collection of couches and armchairs had been brought here, mostly leave-behinds of former students. During any time of the day, someone was occupying one of those seats, reading, writing, discussing with others. A coffee dispenser added its caffeinated aroma to this place. I loved the atmosphere. Today it was quite, as I already said, term was about to start next week, but I gave a short wave to the people lingering there. Our college had a very liberal approach to student accommodation. Both genders were not only allowed in one building, each floor (of which we had three) was mixed. The rooms were not, but that was only a technicality.

When opening the glass door to the stair case, my eyes fell on my reflection. I was small, really small and skinny. I wasn’t exactly happy with my tiny frame, but my body and mind had resisted any serious attempt at sports. Under the untamable mass of my black hair, green eyes were staring back at me, mild self-contempt showing in them.

Another bad hair day, bad body day, bad room day, bad roommate day. When it rains, it pours.

I mustered a smile at myself, trying to break that pang of self-pity which was so unlike me.

Despite my efforts, it didn’t help my mood to look at the name plate which was mounted left of the door to room 204. It read

“Leon Fitzgerald. Kevin Schneider.”

Josh’s name had been removed. All traces that he had ever lived here had vanished.

I sat in my half-empty room, alternating between staring at its white walls and grey floor. Two study desks stood together right below the only, but large window of the room. When working, you sat opposite to your roommate. The desks had been arranged that way by the room administration to “facilitate communication and exchange”. The beds had been placed at the walls, wardrobes, shelves and filing cabinets had been put up at the walls with the window and the door. Josh's side of the room was empty, of course, but my side was decorated with a poster of Bertrand Russell, the mathematician and philosopher, a Star Trek Voyager poster (“A faggy touch of nerdiness” …that was Rob speaking) and a poster depicting the formula “e^(i*pi)=-1”, which was considered one of the most beautiful formulas in the world, because it connected the 4 most important numbers in mathematics. Many math books filled my shelf and only a few fantasy and sci-fi novels could be found there. My parents had given me a stereo with CD player as a parting gift, which stood in the middle of the joined desks at the window side, so that both Josh and I had access to it.

Perhaps the new one would like to play his music there, too.

The gloomy mood I had when entering the dorm had transformed and had gained an edge of nervousness. I did not know what to expect of this Kevin Schneider. I had been extremely lucky with Josh. A roommate becoming your best friend that was a rare occurrence. It could only go downhill from here.

Kevin is doing phys ed.

I hated people, who categorized persons without knowing them. Being tiny as I was, I had more often than not been put in the ‘weak and frail’ drawer. But I couldn’t help to imagine him as a dumb jock. I didn't dare to follow this train of thought to its end. It had been easy to come out to Josh and Rob, being sure of their acceptance. I had no idea how to deal with the possibility of living together with a plain and dull homophobe.

That was completely me: overanalyzing, worrying, pining away with what-ifs and could-bes. It was 3 o'clock now. He would be here anytime soon.