Page 3 of Septembers

His meagre box of kitchen supplies took up the entire desk, so he hoisted it onto his hip and went back into the living room. Dae hadn’t been successful in closing his door, so Theo could see him through the crack, sitting on his bed, scribbling in a notebook, his fingers moving fast, and his lips pressed tight. Theo had forgotten how intense his face got when he was writing, like he was filling that notebook with plans for world domination.

Dae stopped to massage his hand and caught Theo staring, which made him whirl around so fast that a mug flew out of his box. He didn’t see it hit the floor, but he did hear it shatter. By the time he put the box down, Dae was there with a broom, sweeping the broken pieces into a dustpan.

“Step back. You’re not wearing shoes.”

So, Dae’s voice became louder when he was being bossy. Theo squirrelled that fact away to the very back of his brain where it belonged. He would not kick off his university experience by developing a crush on his probably-straight roommate.

Best not to tell Aunt Liana that the good-luck-mug she’d given him had been destroyed on his first day. He reached for the piece featuring an owl saying, learning is a hoot, but Dae pushed his hand away so fast that Theo was convinced he had telekinetic powers. “It’s sharp. If you want to keep it, sand down the edges.”

“Like, with sandpaper?” Theo had never met anyone other than his eighth-grade shop teacher who possessed sandpaper. He must’ve had a dumb look on his face because Dae sighed.

“I’ll do it.”

“No, it’s okay.” He pushed Dae’s hand back from the wreckage much less gracefully. “There are five other mugs in there, all from my aunt. She loves mugs more than anyone should.” Dae had two tiny freckles; one under his left eye and another tucked at the corner of his mouth. Theo couldn’t believe he’d never noticed them before, but then, he’d never been this close. “Thanks though. I knew you were secretly nice.”

“What? I—” Dae’s mouth hung open like his brain was short circuiting. Then he blinked hard, dumped the dustpan into the garbage, and retreated to his room, actually closing his door this time.

Shit.

Was ‘secretly nice’ an insult? Theo was considering knocking on his door to apologize when Jason and Caleb returned. Their rules were pretty standard: don’t be assholes, clean your own stuff, and no sex in the common areas. They decided to go to orientation together—strength in numbers—but Dae didn’t come out of his room.

Caleb knocked. “Dude, you can’t skip orientation. This is when bonds are formed!”

No answer. Was it Theo’s fault, or was Dae just antisocial? Or maybe Theo was overthinking things and Dae just had really good noise-cancelling headphones.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to go,” Jason said, his low voice raised to make it through the door. “Tomorrow is the important part. Tonight is just watching a movie.”

“Just watching a—” Theo put a hand to his chest. “The Princess Bride is a masterpiece. Dae!” He wasn’t usually a yeller, but the situation seemed to call for it. “You have our numbers, right? You can text if you want to join us later!”

He hovered by his door long enough to confirm he wasn’t going to get a response, then Caleb’s arm was around his neck, dragging him out of the dorm.

“C’mon, Walker, Princess Buttercup awaits.”

༻𓆪 𓆩༺

The event was everything Theo thought an outdoor immersive Princess Bride orientation would be: first-years giggling as costumed upper-years yelled things at the ‘screen,’ which was actually a white sheet pulled tight between two poles. Popcorn was thrown, a few brave souls acted out key scenes in front of the crowd (Theo included—how could he pass up the opportunity to scream, Humperdink!) and water bottles filled with atrocious mixtures of alcohol were passed around, likely giving everyone mono.

The Circle—never to actually be called ‘King’s College Circle’ if one didn’t want to be labeled a tourist—was the perfect place for a bunch of giddy first-years to gather: a grassy area lined with trees, their leaves still deciding whether it was time to change colour. Even the sky was participating in the splendour, clear and sharp, the stars watching the scene below as if knowing entertaining mistakes were sure to be made.

Once The Princess Bride ended, the Circle dissolved into a cacophonous mix of chatter, laughter, and several simultaneous renditions of the lines from the movie.

One girl got too close to Theo’s face and yelled, “Wow, you’re handsome!” then draped an inexplicable pink feather boa around his shoulders before tottering off.

“Guess this is mine now.”

Jason plucked one of the feathers and put it behind his ear. “Why do I feel like this isn’t the first time that’s happened to you?”

“Stop rhyming! I mean it!” Theo yelled at a girl wearing a Fezzik costume. Auburn hair stuck out of a short, curly brown wig, and she’d stuffed her grey shirt to mimic the character’s considerable form. The best part was, she was maybe five foot five, making the costume choice hilarious. She pivoted, marching towards him in an uncanny Andre the Giant walk, followed by a gaggle of six other girls.

“Anybody want a peanut?” Her voice boomed, comically low.

Theo heard Caleb muttering, “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” and gave him a reassuring pat.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Fezzik flipped the boa hanging around Theo’s shoulders, looking him over. Tiny freckles dusted the tops of her pale cheeks, framed by glued-on sideburns. “I don’t recall any pink feathers in the movie.”

“At least he gets points for acting,” Jason said. “Not many dudes can pull off an angry witch.”

“That was you?” Her gaze raked him from top to bottom. “Okay, I’m reassessing.”