Page 5 of Prince Material
The noise was concerning for more reasons than one. Hooking up would be a nightmare with these squeaky springs announcing every movement to the entire floor. Not that scoring a hookup was my first priority, but still. At some point, I would like to get some.
“They are.” Orson returned to organizing his space, his movements precise and methodical as he arranged textbooks on his desk. “I brought a memory foam topper. It helps with both the noise and the medieval torture device they call a mattress.”
I’d definitely have to order one of those. “Does Amazon deliver here?”
“Sure. Just don’t order one in the next few days. They won’t be able to get here during move-in week.” He paused, those intelligent, brown eyes studying me again. “You may want to get a fan, too. The heat index is supposed to hit a hundred degrees tomorrow.”
A hundred degrees? What was that in Celsius? Oh, wait, wasn’t one hundred body temperature? So that would mean around thirty-seven Celsius.
“Sweet baby Jesus.” I sat up, eyeing his fan with naked envy. “And here I thought the Netherlands was bad during our one week of summer.”
That earned me another almost-smile, gone so quickly, I might have imagined it. “You really aren’t what I expected.”
“Let me guess, you pictured some spoiled brat who’d show up with an entourage and demand a red carpet?” When he didn’t deny it, I laughed. “Sorry to disappoint. Though I dohave excellent taste in clothes, if that helps maintain the image.”
“I’ll try to contain my excitement.”
Dry as the Sahara, that one. But there was something oddly charming about his deadpan delivery.
I stood, grimacing at my sweat-soaked shirt. “I think I may grab a quick shower. I promise I’m usually more presentable, but these stairs have thoroughly humbled me.”
“Bathroom’s down the hall to the right.” He gestured vaguely without looking up from his precise arrangement of notebooks. “Though fair warning, the water pressure’s questionable at best.”
“Builds character, right? That seems to be a theme here. Between the stairs, the mattress, and now questionable water pressure, my character should be stellar by the end of the year.”
“At least you have a sense of humor about it.” Orson’s tone was dry, but there was something almost approving in it. He’d moved on to making his bed with a military precision any drill sergeant would be proud of.
I threw one of my suitcases on the bed and opened it. After some rummaging, I found my toiletries bag and a change of clothes. Thank fuck I had brought some mini bottles of shampoo and shower gel to tide me over until I could stop by a supermarket.
“Life’s too short not to laugh at yourself occasionally.” I headed for the door, then paused. “Hey, quick question. Any good places to grab coffee around here? I’m going to need industrial quantities to survive unpacking.”
“The campus coffee shop’s decent. It’s in the student center.” He adjusted his glasses, considering. “But if you want the good stuff, there’s this place called Acoustic Java about ten minutes away. They roast their own beans.”
“A man who knows his coffee. I knew we’d find common ground.” I flashed him another grin before heading out.
As I walked down the hall, a smile played on my lips. I was stupidly excited about this year, even with the medieval mattress and Satan’s sauna masquerading as a dorm.
At my request, the Dutch press had not been informed I would be studying abroad, which meant I could live in relative anonymity here. Granted, Dutch reporters were nowhere near as bad as the British tabloid press, but they could still be a nuisance, especially when one wanted privacy.
College was supposed to be about discovering yourself, about experimenting, about making mistakes and learning from them. But when your mistakes were shared with the whole world, little mishaps could become sensational headlines in a heartbeat. I’d been there and done that once. Never again.
No, I would treasure every moment of peace and quiet until, inevitably, the press would find out where I was. But hopefully, that would take them a while since my father had agreed he would not voluntarily tell anyone where I was.
In the meantime, I would embrace life as an American college student, including having a roommate. Orson fascinated me—in an uptight, absolutely-needs-to-loosen-up kind of way.
Challenge accepted.
2
ORSON
The cafeteria buzzed with the kind of chaotic energy that made my skin crawl. This was my fifth year at VTC, but I still hadn’t gotten used to the constant noise, the throngs of bodies, the overwhelming smell of greasy food. New Orleans could be crazy busy, but the vibe was different, somehow, and it didn’t get to me.
My laptop screen glowed with the problem set I’d been working on after finishing my dinner, but the numbers kept swimming before my eyes. They were off, somehow. I’d done the equations, but something didn’t add up. The final numbers were nowhere near what I would’ve expected them to be. I’d already double-checked my calculations, but I had clearly missed something. Something that could mean the difference between a structure that stood and one that failed. In the real world, that could mean the difference between life and death. Just like one wrong step on that roof during Katrina…
I pushed that thought away, but it clung like the humid New Orleans air had that day. It had been twenty years by now, but the people who had said the pain would get less over time hadlied. I missed him as much as I had as a kid, though maybe in different ways.
Fuck, I needed to focus on this problem. Professor Gibbons wouldn’t be impressed if I didn’t ace this, and I wanted her recommendation for when I graduated to get into a top engineering firm. It wasn’t due for another two weeks, but still.
