Finally. After two years of waiting for admission, Tim was finally in. The public transport rumbled away, leaving him and his friend Oreon standing at the campus bus stop.
Oreon took a deep, dramatic breath. "Ahh, campus. Our pre-degree journey finally paid off."
He pointed to a grand, yellowish building. "You see that, Tim? That's the senate building."
Tim looked. It was a building. He didn't feel the reverence Oreon clearly did. He didn't even know what the senate building is for.
"You know what, Tim?" Oreon said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone.
"What?"
"I want to be part of school politics.An Honourable, to be precise." Ambition burned in his eyes.
"Why?"
"Because I want to be part of the deciding bodies!"He laughed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
'Politics?' Tim thought. He knew he was an average student. But maybe... if he couldn't be book-smart, he could at least be connection-smart. He couldn't afford to be the shy guy from pre-degree anymore. He had to make friends.
"Yeah,"he heard himself say. "Same here. Let's do it."
As they walked to their respective departments, Oreon sighed. "It's sad we aren't studying the same major."
Tim just nodded.He hadn't gotten the course he wanted; the university had 'graciously' transferred him to Chemistry.
Oreon, who'd aimed for Aerospace, was now in Physics.
"Luckily,our departments aren't far from each other," Tim offered.
"We are now White House students!"Oreon announced with a grin. "Let's meet up later."
The White House, home to Physics, Chemistry, and Geology. It was a building that struck fear into the hearts of every student who'd been there more than a year. But they were just freshers, still amazed by its clean, white structure and completely unaware of the academic torture it represented.
After they departed,
Tim found himself climbing a staircase, looking around. "Okay, I think this is where I'm supposed to be for departmental registration?"
He saw a small crowd near a door and walked up to a beautiful, brown-skinned girl standing slightly apart. "Sorry, is this the E-library for departmental registration?"
"Yes,"she said, not even looking at him.
"Thanks."He took a seat beside her. The silence was thick. "You were also given Chemistry, huh?"
"Yeah." Again, no eye contact.
'Eighteen years on this earth and I still don't know how to talk to a girl', he lamented internally.
After a painful minute, he finally gathered his courage. "Can I have your number?"
She turned and looked at him,her expression unreadable.
"You know,since we're both freshmen..." he added, panicking.
"Alright,"she said.
He fumbled his phone out of his pocket,and she typed in her number.
"Name?"he asked, pulling up the contact.
"Abigail."
"I'm Tim,"he said, pocketing his phone like it was contraband.
When his turn for registration finally came, Tim walked into the room and, for a reason his brain still could not compute, announced, "Big man in the house!"
He immediately wanted to dissolve into the floor, 'Why did I say that?'
The group behind the table burst out laughing,and he realized they were just senior students.
He felt a wave of relief. Remember, Tim, be social.
"I love your energy!"one of them, a guy wearing a backwards cap, said.
Tim managed a smile,the anxiety easing. He paid his departmental dues in cash, the transaction smooth until...
One of the senior girls looked him over."You know, you should run for Mr. Fresher. You have the vibes."
He shook his head vigorously."Nah, I'm good." The very thought of being on a stage made his palms sweat.
"Come on,why are you scared?" the guy in the cap chimed in.
He was still holding Tim's change.He looked at the cash, then back at Tim, a sly grin spreading across his face.
"You know what?I like you and your vibes. I'm not giving you your balance. I've used it to register you for the department's Mr. Fresher competition."
Tim was stunned, 'What the fuck? Why force me into something I don't want?'
But on the surface,he just gave a weak smile, turned, and walked out.
With nowhere else to go, Tim headed to a spot his hometown friend had told him about a small shop run by two young women who sold snacks and beverages. One of them was strikingly beautiful, tall and fair-skinned.
He greeted the people there quietly and waited.
"Fatimah!Promise! Welcome back!" the shopkeepers called out to two girls who had just arrived.
His eyes tracked them for a moment.One was petite with a notably nice figure.
The other was a tall Muslim girl, less curvy in the back but undeniably blessed in the front. Both were a beautiful dark-skinned colour.
After a few minutes of covert observation,he retreated into the safety of his phone.
A voice,bright and curious, broke his concentration.
"Hiiii."
He looked up.One of them, 'Promise' was standing right in front of him, smiling.