One | A Bitter Taste

There was a knock on my door, and I was very thankful that there were peepholes to peer out of. I was almost positive that a terrorist wouldn't be able to enter the dorm buildings with the amount of security out front, but I was always paranoid for some reason. Most likely because of my undying interest in serial killers. You can't blame me for taking an interest in the lives of serial killers, I mean, they're just so interesting. Could you imagine knowing a serial killer?

Thankfully, through the peephole, I spotted West. I opened the door, and couldn't stop him before he was barging through and sitting down on my bed.

"Harrison!" He sat with his legs hanging off the side of the bed, feet touching the floor. "I am here to pitch you something. And you have to hear me out!"

I sighed and sat down at my desk, facing West. "What is it?"

"Tomorrow, we go back to school, and I am still upset that I didn't get to spend the entire summer being a moron with you. My parents had the audacity to fly me home for an entire month, I mean, how selfish is that? Ugh. Whatever, on with the point. I am not okay with the fact that we have to go back tomorrow. So, why not party?" West said, grinning. "Jason invited me to a party tonight and I am definitely going, so therefore, you are too!"

I held back a groan. "West, I don't want to go to a college party. Or should I say another college party? The past two times there was that guy, Dean, who kept hitting on me, and he's honestly freaking me out."

"And he was hot!" he argued.

"That's your opinion. He was cocky and an ass. For me, that automatically cancels out your looks," I said. "West, I'm not going. I'll chain myself to the bed and you won't be able to pull me out because you're not strong enough! Plus, I have lots of things to get done. You know I procrastinate."

"We all procrastinate, Harry! But you need to have some fun before we go back to school and are tortured with homework and tests!" West exclaimed. "I am feeling super depressed about school tomorrow. Please, come with me tonight."

"No!"

West's eyes suddenly went wide and he covered his mouth with his hand. "Shit, is it because I said depressed? Did that-"

I interrupted him. "It's not because you said depressed, West. It's just a word, everybody says it. I don't want to go because I actually have a fuck ton of homework to do before tomorrow."

West groaned and said, "Fine. Whatever. Be a party pooper, but I'm definitely going."

I didn't mind the occasional party, but getting shit-faced the night before the first day of junior year? That definitely wasn't the move. West then proceeded to sigh deeply and move his legs on the bed so that he was sitting criss-cross-applesauce. For such a tall guy, it was weird that it was comfortable for him to sit in such a compact position.

"So you won't come with me tonight," West drawled on, sighing dramatically once again, "but you have to come within my this Friday. There's another party going on, and I am making your attendance mandatory."

I groaned out loud this time. "West, come on."

"You're coming!" He urged. "Harrison, please. I am begging you."

"Only if," I started, and West immediately perked up, "they have Coniston Bluebird ale."

West stuck his tongue out in disgust. "You really are weird for liking that bitter shit," he said, shaking his head. "But for you? I will make sure they have it!"

"That's what I like to hear."

•••

The next day, I woke up (reluctantly, of course) at the not-so-pleasant 6:20 in the morning. Class started at 7, which was atrociously early in my opinion, but clearly, there was nothing I could do about it. So, I laid in bed for an additional 15 minutes, scrolling Twitter as per usual before getting up out of the comfort of my bed and going to change.

I changed into a black slightly cropped tee and some high-waisted jeans, as well as the usual converse, which, by the way, used to be white, but were now worn out far beyond their years, and pretty close to brown. I then threw on my backpack and left.

The upside about boarding school was living literally one minute away from all of the classrooms. It was practically almost impossible to be late, although it occasionally still happened. Mostly if West took too long to get ready in the mornings. Everyday I would make my way to the boys' dorms and wait for him outside, but I always arrived a little too early. It had become a tradition to stand outside and take Buzzfeed quizzes while I waited for him to finish.

West arrived with 5 minutes to spare; he was freshly showered (he was a morning showerer, whereas I, was a nighttime showerer, but that's beside the point) and he wore a simple white v-neck top and some jeans. Classic West.

"Looks like we both agreed on being casual today!" West exclaimed, looping his arm with mine as we walked. We both had English together first period, which was perfect considering we both loved English. "I am so thankful you did not decide to dress up! Some people just put way too much effort into their back-to-school attire."

I laughed. "Why would I even consider dressing up? If I've learned anything from high school, it's that I don't give a shit."

"Amen sister."

    We got to the building that held our English class, and the room was immediately to the right when we entered, which was beyond perfect. That meant that leaving would be extremely easy after class. So entering the classroom, West and I took a seat next to each other and he began telling me about this Tweet he saw the other day by Connor Franta that read:

My horrible day by Connor Franta

Part 1: the wind blew a cup of coffee over onto my laptop.

Part 2: the wind blew a tree over onto the electrical lines that were powering the fan that I was using to dry my laptop.

Part 3: the wind blew sadness into my heart.

"It's just relatable! Like, has the wind ever blew sadness into my heart like that? No. But don't you just feel what he's saying?"

    I shook my head at him as the bell rang, indicating the start of class and quickly replied, "No" before turning to face the board.

    After approximately 30 seconds, the teacher walked in, immediately catching my eye. My mouth opened wide and I was quick to shut it, hoping that nobody would see my reaction, especially West.

    I recognized him: the guy from the coffee shop, or (as I had nicknamed him) the mysterious man with the deep voice. And here he was, wearing a full-on grey suit, his hair still messy, and his face still a portrait of perfection.

Jesus, I need to stop.    He introduced himself as "Mr. Landry. I'm the new English 3 teacher this year. Very excited to be here. I'm going to silently take attendance before we begin. Don't worry, I have faces on my sheet, and I'll learn names pretty fast." He looked down at the sheet. I nervously awaited to see if he would recognize me. But he wouldn't right? No, there was no way.    Oh, but there was a way.. He looked straight up at me, his eyes slightly widening. He quickly looked back down and cleared his throat. "Looks like everyone's here!" He exclaimed. "Now, why don't we start with a quick introduction?" His eyes met mine for a second more, and I knew that he recognized me. There was a look in his eyes that I couldn't quite describe, but my curiosity about the mysterious man with the deep voice who was apparently my English teacher grew. So I pulled out my phone.    Mr. Landry was giving a presentation, going over the main concepts of the course. But I was more concentrated on searching him up, hoping to get more of an introduction on who he was.    Scrolling through the list of teachers at the school, I came across his picture. That same portrait of perfection looked equally as perfect digitally.    Otto. His name was Otto.    I wasn't sure what made me curious to learn about him, but I was. And I was determined to find out more about the mysterious man with the deep voice whose name was Otto.

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