Harvard University. What do you think everyone does there? It's not all filled with uncool geeks, you know. In the beginning of the year, you start seeing the newcomers filling in the recently-vacant dorms. That's the group I fall in now.

Being a freshman is hard. You share your dorm with people who do weird stuff. But if your dorm isn't full of them, you might as well consider yourself lucky this time, because when you're in college, you only get lucky once. If you're forever lucky, tell me a few tricks up your sleeves which makes you lucky every time.

During my first day, I only brought five luggage bags with me. I stared at the whiteboard on the door with four names.

My last name came up first, then a Brandon & a Hale. The last was Denali. Damn whoever who added my name at the top of the board.

Renee pasted labels on my luggage bags, her excuse being "everyone gets mixed up with which is which". My smallest luggage had to be my "personals" that included my laptop and iPhone dock. I had another luggage the same size as my "personals", and those were my "intimates".

The reason why I'm telling you this is because something bad happened to me and it involved my junk in my "intimates" luggage.

"Here, let me give you a hand with that," a velvet voice said over my shoulder.

"No, no. That's all right. I've got it—" I began, but that was before my "intimates" luggage fell down and the contents were out. If you drop your items on the first day of the "rest of your life", you should be embarrassed except that I was not because I was too distracted with my luggage.

I instinctively looked up, about to ask for help. For a moment, I stared into a pair of irrelevant (green, if you must know) eyes, but his expression held a challenge: "entertain me, or I'll entertain myself at your expense" was what it said. His lips twisted into a smirk. He was giving me the idea that he was apparently mocking me.

"Oh– uhm– yikes?" I stammered, making my words sound like a question. I bent down, picking up my underwear and bras and shoved them back into the luggage.

"I'd offer to assist you, but usually I like to buy a girl dinner or at least a drink before handling her... underwear." The luggage-droppingly handsome guy spoke, still smirking.

"Sorry, but I have a boyfriend," I replied.

"What makes you think I'm asking?"

Uh-oh. Wrong move. "You made it sound that way," I quickly said, opening the door. What did make me think that? I mentally kicked myself and tried not to let that smirk distract me... or that unusual bronze hair... or the way his upper arms were straining against the sleeves of his polo shirt... or– crap– stay focused!

I straightened, meeting his eyes. He stared right back. Uncomfortable silence was what's going on.

"I'm flattered," he said, one step closer towards me, "but you're not my type. Though I'm wondering how your boyfriend would feel if he knew that another guy has seen your unders on the first day?"

The perfect comeback was already on the tip of my tongue– but I didn't know why I couldn't remember it when this guy was standing so close to me. He made thinking hard. I couldn't even remember my boyfriend's name. His name was... uhm... it was...

"Hey, I just met you and this is crazy but here's my number, so call me may—" I turned my bloody ringtone off of my cell and unlocked it when I saw it was my boyfriend (whose name I could finally remember) of two years, Jacob Black. it was about something like his cell phone getting confiscated and other stuff I just couldn't read properly with this guy in front of me.

"Was that him?" The guy's voice was so alluring and smooth like velvet that I almost said it wasn't. And just like he read my damn mind, he continued, "your so-called 'boyfriend'?"

"No," I snapped. "I mean, yes he is my boyfriend but no, he isn't so-called my 'boyfriend'." Okay, that was a little confusing. I just couldn't understand myself anymore, so I gave up. "I'd better unpack my stuff in my room." I quickly said, pointing to the luggage. "Well, I'm right here at my dorm, C 24, so if you don't mind—" I got cut off when a girl opened the door.

And it was the second time my jaw dropped.

The girl– blonde hair and big blue eyes and flawless– was undeniably gorgeous. She lifted her long fingers in a wave and I waved back halfway, realizing it was for the beautiful– scratch that– mean boy beside me. "Oh– hello," She said after asking a question in fluent French. Her English was in an accent partially French and partially English. She sounded snobbish– ahem, I meant sophisticated. She was waif thin and tall with a flowing dress which made her look like some clone of a famous celebrity.

"Hi, I'm Bella," I said.

"And I'm Rosalie Lillian Hale. You can call me Rosalie, Rose, or Rosie, if that's easier." She replied. Her eyes lit up like she was receiving her first makeup set on Christmas. "Oh! You are Isabella Marie, no?" She cried, air-kissing my cheeks. "Hello, roommate! I see you have already met Edward. He is such an asshole, is he not?"

"Call me that again and I'll shove you down the gutter, french fry." Edward warned.

"Ooh, I'm so scared! Someone save me!" Rosalie cried, sarcasm dripping as the back of her hand dramatically pressed against her forehead. She could seriously go for acting classes if she keeps doing that.

My mind ran through its mental iPod, scrolling down the Awkward Playlist to fit how I was feeling right now. I gathered my items and quickly squeezed through the door frame with my luggage dragging behind me.

"Anyone home?" No response. I shrugged to myself and put down my luggage. I opened my "intimates" luggage and picked up one cotton underwear. "Note to self: shop for sexier underwear," I sighed.

"Did someone say 'shopping'? Oh my God, I so need to go too! Like seriously! My clothes are all too out-of-trend I feel left out!" A girl who skipped out of one of the rooms said. As she skipped, she was the most graceful person I've ever seen. Everything about her screams graceful. Her small and short body shape screams graceful. She had a black bob haircut and her eyes were dark brown. She was like a pixie. Her glistening smile could catch everyone's attention. Her eyes raged when she saw me.


Hey guys! So this is a re-write of one of my old stories and I just felt so bad for abandoning my story. I really hope you guys will enjoy this one. I've read my drafts again and again just to make sure I don't have any errors. Errors get me on "writer's rage".

Oh, and I need a Beta! One that's really good in French too, since you've read that Rosalie's French. I suck at French. PM me if you're interested!