Post by James on Apr 21, 2012 6:29:34 GMT -5
He spent ten minutes talking about the importance of Stanley Kubricker… Kubricker, Rebecca?
Beautiful was nearly always a subjective word. Mary Peston was widely regarded as the most beautiful girl in William Owens’ entire class. He always believed they were more worthy recipients. His flat-share, Rebecca, thought that Monet’s works were more beautiful than Van Gogh’s. And some people called New Zealand breath-taking. William would never deny that the mountains of Middle-Earth were stunning and the roaring rivers had a certain charm to them. Something was always missing though. There were no heavy brush strokes from the ravaging passing of time. Everything was so new and untouched. Beauty needed to be imperfect in William’s eyes.
So when he sat up from a fragmented night sleep, William didn’t pay much heed to the faint outline of a solitary mountain in the horizon. Nor did he pay much attention to the birdsong that floated in through the open window. Instead, he sank his feet into a pair of warm slippers and wrapped himself tightly in a thin, thread-bare dressing gown. The cold, winter air snapped at the exposed skin around his ankles. Most people have their windows closed during the coldest days of winter. William preferred to wake-up as if he was in the Antarctic. It always served him better than a cup of coffee.
Slipping out into the somewhat warmer hallway, he wandered down to Rebecca’s door and knocked loudly. She was hardly ever up before nine. She never got in William’s way as he completed his morning ritual, even though she had class an hour earlier. He stood at the door for a moment. As he rubbed sleep out of his tired eyes, William heard hurried whispers and the sound of heavy footsteps before the door swung open to reveal the half-naked form of some bronze-skinned male. William silently thanked his non-existent god that it was the shirt that the man was missing. The stranger smiled, throwing a single hungry glance back into the bedroom before stepping out in the hallway.
“Morning, William,” he grinned, running his hand through his hair. “Rebecca will be a little while getting decent. I left her in quite a state if you catch my drift.”
William nodded, feigning a sleepiness that he didn’t really possess. It was far easier to pretend to be half-dead than to file through his brain in a vain attempt to remember the man’s name. Unfortunately, he fully understood the stranger’s ‘drift’. He never comprehended the need to boast about sexual conquests. He was acutely aware that was probably how the New Zealand cricket team felt about Australian sporting boasts. Excusing himself from the awkward conversation that was beckoning, William disappeared into the kitchen and filled the kettle while the toaster made swift work of two slices of white bread.
“You don’t mind if I jump in your shower?” Mr Somebody’s voice called out, already halfway to the bathroom.
“Go ahead,” William shouted back. He figured he would easily have enough time to retreat to his bedroom before the stranger returned.
Buttering his toast while his morning drink slowly brewed, William glanced out of a window for the first time. The light drizzle warmed his heart for a second. Rain always had that effect on him. Tapping out a slow instrumental tune from some movie trailer that he couldn’t quite recall, William picked up his plate and mug and made his way back across the shaggy carpet to his freezing room. His mind turned over the past few days, hours of tireless study in preparation for the two exams that he had today. Once they were out of the way, he was free, well, free for five weeks. Five glorious weeks of boredom before the slow grind would start again.
“Morning,” Rebecca said, stepping out of her room in baggy pyjamas bottoms and a purple tank top. “Sorry if Peter was a bit laddy, you know what he’s like.”
“Do I?” William quizzed, stopping with toast and tea in hand.
Laughter rang out from Rebecca’s pink lips, her hair swaying as she shook her head. “You are hopeless, Wills. You’ve met him a couple of times before at Frankz. I don’t suppose you’re ever paying attention much; I envy your talents to study in the middle of a nightclub.”
William didn’t feel the need to correct Rebecca on the different between studying and writing. After all, he hardly broadcasted the fact that half the time he spent scribbling away in exercise books, he was actually jotting down story ideas and script brainstorms instead of remembering the various dates of the American Civil War. Or if it wasn’t scripts, it was articles for the university’s magazine. William was no environmentalist, but it was a waste of paper in every sense of the phrase. It was something to have emblazoned on his CV, though, or tag hopelessly on the end of a cover letter to extend its length. Instead of correcting her, he pulled up memories of a loud, boorish man demanding that everyone down a shot before disappearing into the pulsating throng of dancing bodies. Mr Somebody had become even more dislikeable upon gaining a name.
“Please tell me you’re not dating him,” William groaned.
“Because obviously if you sleep with someone then you’re dating them,” Rebecca said, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, you’re more old-fashioned than my grandfather. Anyway, Peter must be better than Nick being around here all the time?”
It was William’s turn to comically roll his eyes, scoffing at the name. “I had to put up with that idiot for five months, Rebecca. Five months.”
“He wasn’t that bad.”
“He thought Antipater fought at the Battle of Tyre,” William said. In his mind that was enough for someone to be thrown to the wolves. “He spent ten minutes talking about the importance of Stanley Kubricker… Kubricker, Rebecca? How did he even get an –er on the end of Kubrick? He was the worst pseudo-intellectual I’ve ever met.”
“And what does it matter who I date anyway?” Rebecca asked, raising a carefully shaped eyebrow.
Taking a second to sip at the tea that he had raised to his lips, William let the liquid slip smoothly down his throat before answering. “Because as your roommate, I have to put up with them tramping through the house without warning. I reserved the right to be able to complain about all dating choices. It’s in the tenancy agreement.”
“Really, tenancy agreements?” Rebecca said, her hand resting dismissively on her hip. “I’m the law student, remember? You don’t want to get into a legal argument with me unless it’s something to do with Ancient Greek tax law.”
“I know for a fact that you got a C in Contracts and you barely passed Land Law. I think I’m in the clear, Denny Crane,” William laughed, sliding pass her in some tai-chi dance, holding the mug and plate of toast steady as he walked.
Rebecca yelled back some insult but William was already through his bedroom door, a smile plastered across his face as it slammed shut. He knew it was petty, but he always took great enjoyment of coming out of their verbal jousting completely unscathed. Admittedly, Rebecca wasn’t exactly a William Thatcher at the lists, but still a victory should never be left unsaid. Taking another sip of his tea before placing the mug carefully between three heavy, leather-bound books and a laptop, William dropped down into his computer chair. Even at the age of twenty, he still had to resist the urge to start spinning. God forbid if they ever installed moving chairs into lecture halls.
William looked around the organised chaos that was his study space and reached for the pens and papers that he would need for the day. The first exam was only two hours away. He knew his wrist would ache and his hand would be covered in ink by the end of it, but his respite would be another exam waiting only an hour an half later. There was still plenty of time to spare, but he wanted to be free of the house as soon as possible. Reaching for his mobile phone, he hit the last message of his inbox and began to text a reply, asking if the sender was up for an early morning coffee.
