Chapter Text
Smoke had begun to engulf the barely lit room, tendrils curving around the strewn clothes and trash that littered the floor. The right wall was covered in various posters and photos, anything that could be tacked onto a wall had found a loving home. Textbooks and literature books were stacked in random places, the bookshelf full and being used by the other occupant. A CD player proudly perched on top of a dresser faintly echoed out dreamy chords and an airy voice.
Just give me love and hate on both my hands, I’ll show you what I’m made of.
Melissa blew out a puff of smoke, staring wistfully up at her ceiling. An angry looking Kurt Cobain stared back down at her, fist raised like he was scolding her. If she squinted hard enough, she could almost hear the words he'd fling at her.
Get up, you goddamn stoner! Go and do something with your life!
She giggled at his words in her head.
Her bed lay underneath the open window, and she watched, entranced, as the smoke billowed out the window with a gust of wind. Sure, the smell would linger, but that would be a problem for future Melissa. Now, she smiled at the swirls above her head.
A shrill, high pitched ringing broke through the slow music, and Melissa, wincing at the sudden noise, reached for the telephone.
“Melissa, where the fuck are you? You're supposed to be in class!” Gen hissed from the speaker. Mel shrugged before remembering she couldn’t see her.
“I know, I know. Something came up, ‘s all. I’ll go tomorrow.” Her voice was low and tired. She could vaguely remember telling Gen "I'll go, I promise." She also remembered she ordered pizza twenty minutes ago and her mouth began to water.
"Something came up? What, did your unplanned joint suddenly roll itself?"
Melissa meant to roll her eyes but the giggle that bubbled up in her throat was too much to hold down. "That's...that's a good one. I'll have to remember that one."
Gen's sigh on the other end was so loud that the noise crackled as it came out of the phone. "Whatever, you weirdo. I'll be back later." The tone cut out and Mel unceremoniously tossed it back onto the nightstand.
Her film major sometimes crossed wires with Gen’s communications classes, which meant they’d sit together in those hot lecture halls.
Today marked the fifth day in a row that Melissa would miss class. She should care a lot more than she did, now her brain fumbled for a lazy excuse about how the classes were all the same anyways.
She squinted at the fraying leather strapped watch on her wrist. 2 PM.
Basically the whole day left.
The clocks hands were now closer to four thirty by the time Melissa had thrown on a fresh hoodie and tossed her pizza box in the trash. She fixed her usual dirty pink cap on her head before heading out the door, whistling the tune she heard earlier.
Their dorm building had Gen and Melissa's apartment on the second floor which led to Gen complaining daily about the broken elevator, while Melissa had way too much fun running up the stairs and sliding down the railing. She considered doing that now, but in her sluggish state and how far away the ground looked, she decided against it.
Her stomach growled as she fished around in her pockets when she reached the bottom of the stairs. No food, but a five dollar bill. She couldn't help but smile at herself for her find. Maybe a pastry from that new student café around the corner. She'd never been, but Gen frequented it during exam season and usually brought back a muffin or two.
Her head was so filled with possible snack ideas that she didn't see the doors open, and the heavy wooden door smacked her in the nose.
"Jesus, fuck!" She hissed as she tumbled backwards to the ground, clutching at her nose. Stars sparked and wavered in her vision as blood trickled out of her nose slowly, not a lot but enough to make her nauseous.
"Nice one, Shipman." Someone retorted and Mel cracked her eyes open just enough to see the three girls towering over her.
"Are you alright?" Shauna leaned over her, searching her for any cuts or bruises. Melissa scrambled to her feet, wiping the blood away from her nose with the back of her hand. She tried for a smile, wincing slightly. Her nose throbbed and she could practically feel the bruise as it slowly seeped into her pale skin.
Shauna Shipman was something of an enigma in Melissa’s life. Melissa liked to admire the back of her head in the two classes they shared, watching admirably from afar. Then of course, the quad incident.
Melissa had been walking across the grass to Gen, minding her own business, when a full force of flesh and bone barreled into her side, bringing them both to the ground in a tumble. A soccer ball shot by them, the intended target.
The offending missile, Shauna, had ended up on top, elbows on either side of Melissa’s head and big brown eyes staring down at her.
”Sorry,” She’d said, “Didn’t see you there.”
Melissa’s heart had threatened to claw its way out of her chest and onto the girl on top of her. But, Melissa had a rule. A stupid rule, but one that’d saved her a lot of heartbreak. Don’t crush on a girl unless she flirts with you. It’d saved her from a lot, and seriously, a lot of yearning.
“It's fine. My nose has seen worse." Her joke crashed, and crashed badly. All three girls stared blankly at her. Idiot. Noses can't see.
"You're bleeding." Shauna said in a matter-of-fact tone. Her hand raised, fingers gently brushing against the length of her nose. “You just love getting in the way.”
Melissa's breath hitched, eyes nearly fluttering closed.
"And you're wincing. Melissa, right? You should see the nurse." Taissa offered, but Van stepped forward, eyes narrowed at Melissa.
"Mel's on cloud fucking nine right now. Did you even feel the door?"
That brought her back to reality, and she rolled her eyes at Van. "Of course I felt the door, asshole. Kinda hard to miss someone coming through like a steam train."
Van was practically telekinetic in sensing Melissa's high ever since the two of them held a weekly smoke session in Natalie's empty dorm room. Natalie was lucky enough to have a room to herself, and used it to the max. Mel had lost so many hours staring at that black popcorn ceiling.
"I wasn't trying to hit you. Watch where you're going next time." Shauna snapped. "Or maybe, don't get high in public. Your nose won't be so fucked."
Melissa should've snapped back at her. She should've stood up for herself and her naturally clumsy ways. (Because the door would've hit her whether or not she was sober.) She definitely shouldn't smile.
She smiled. Grinned, in fact. A great, face splitting grin slowly spread on her face at Shauna's words. "You say that like I walk into doors for fun."
Shauna's glare only intensified at her words. "I think you do. You're missing a few braincells and that's the only explanation. That or the amount of weed you smoke."
Van stepped out in front of Shauna, hand raised against her. "Woah there, Shipman. You hit Mel with a door. Try and be nice to her, please?"
Her eyes flitted between Melissa and Van, as if mentally deciding which fight she'd pick. Finally, she shoved past Melissa, making her way down the hall.
Melissa couldn't stop smiling even as the other two gave her an apologetic smile and a pat on the back as they passed and followed their friend. For a moment she stood there, mind replaying the moment over and over again.
"Melissa."
Her own name out loud made her turn, and she was rendered speechless, again, by Shauna standing there with her hat in her hand. "You dropped this." She muttered, thrusting it at her. Melissa took it in her hands, about to say thank you, when Shauna turned and marched back down the corridor, not waiting for a response.
This, she thought, was ground breaking.
She half ran, half walked to the café, a new spring in her step despite the drying blood on the back of her hand.
"I don't understand. Shauna Shipman hits you with a door, and now you think you're in love?" Gen's quizzical brow was nearly disappearing into her low curtain bangs. She leaned against the back of her chair, her legs drawn up to her chin and her homework long forgotten about.
"She was flirting, Gen. A girl in flannel being mean is like, basically a love confession." Melissa was sitting cross legged on her bed, rifling through her bag. "She touched my nose. Touched it! Right here!" She ran her finger along the length of her nose, where a large bruise had started to blossom.
Night had begun to set in over campus, and the lazy music Melissa had been listening to had been replaced by Gen’s mixtape, a clashing collection of folk music playing whiny from their CD player.
More than once, Melissa had turned her nose up at it, because seriously, what college girl willingly listened to Woody Guthrie?
"I don't know, Mel. Shauna being mean is her default setting. I don't think she's capable of flirting."
"That's my point. Not capable of flirting means she has to show her attraction in other ways." Finally, she produced a notebook and a pen from the depths of her backpack.
"Please don't say attraction like that. You sound like a creep." Gen snorted. Then, her eyebrows furrowed. "Wait. I thought Shauna was dating that sorority girl. Jackie."
Melissa paused, thought about it, then went on to scribble something in her notebook. "I'm pretty sure they're just friends. Jackie's close with all her friends."
"Yeah. but they're like...close close. Like homoerotically close."
Mel looked up, her nose crinkling. "Gross."
Then she paused, watching Gen with an almost sad look in her eye. "You really think she wasn't flirting with me?"
Melissa was a loser lesbian, in every sense of the word. Van had called her that as a joke during one of their smoke seshes, but Mel couldn't get it out of her head. She hated the idea of it, it ruined the cool-guy persona she'd built of herself in her head.
Gen, like most people, were vulnerable to the kicked-puppy-look that Melissa was giving her and caved to tell her what she wanted.
"Maybe...maybe she was. Maybe that's her fucked up way of flirting. You could always find out. Flirt back.”
Melissa stiffened at the idea. “You know I can’t do that. I’ll say the wrong thing. I’ll word vomit, I’ll freak out.”
Gen shrugged. “Just trying to help, Mel. You could always pull a trial run on Monday.”
”Monday?” Melissa blinked at her roommate. Gen was in a sorority, but after the sheer luck they had after getting a room together, she didn’t change rooms and live in the sorority house.
Which was sweet at first, until Mel found out the rent was higher in the house.
”Rush week, Melissa. I told you this.” Gen sounded exasperated, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m manning the table?”
Oh. Right. Melissa had a vague memory of Gen telling her that a while ago.
“So…” Melissa dragged, letting the vowel hang in the air, “you won’t be here?”
That snapped Gen out of her annoyance. “No. No fucking way. Do not smoke in this apartment again, Melissa. And not on a fucking Monday!” She punctuated ‘Monday’ by throwing a scrunched up worksheet at Melissa’s head.
”Jesus, alright! I won’t.” Melissa was already conjuring up half baked ideas to meet in Natalie’s dorm at some point that day. Not until after visiting Shauna at her frat table, of course.
If you asked her, she would’ve told you that the Greek life was a bit culty, thanks very much. She preferred to be her own spirit, wandering around whenever she wanted and not tied to anything or anyone.
If Shauna asked her to join, then that’s a different question.
Melissa glanced down at her notepad, thumbing over the title she’d written.
How to make Shauna Shipman fall in love.