Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.
Fuck. I was late.
I picked up the pace, practically jogging to class now which, after the weekend I had had, was a fucking terrible idea. It had been worth it, though. I think.
The pounding headache. The hangover. That scratchy sound my eyes made every time I blinked. Definitely worth it.
I had met a gorgeous girl a week ago and spent last weekend letting her drag me from one nightclub to another. Normally I would have put up a fight, anything to avoid the fucked up nightlife here and all those needy, sweaty bodies, crammed in those tiny nightclubs. I hated those goddamn nightclubs, but this girl was really something. I think. I mean, she had to be – she had it all. She could tick all the usual boxes: gorgeous, smart, friendly, popular, gave great head. She was even kind of funny, although I didn't think it was always intentional. There must have been something there because she had it all. She was definitely my type. She must have been. If she wasn't my type, then what was?
So when my roommate, Mike, finally asked that girl-whose-name-I-can't-ever-remember to be his girlfriend and very willingly followed her to her dorm room, Tanya and I were left with a free room to fool around in all night. She had wanted to go further but I was a little hesitant. It's not like I was a fucking prude or a virgin or anything, but I had only known her for about a week. Call me old-fashioned but I wanted to actually know who I was fucking around with. And I didn't want it to just be fucking around this time. I was hoping, even though it was still way too early to be thinking about that shit, that this thing between us could be something more at some point. I had had plenty of girlfriends but there was always something missing. Both my brothers had found "it" and I could see the changes in them. They both walked around with these fucking ridiculous grins on their faces. They looked like idiots.
Now it was just me left on the outside looking in. And I wanted that fucking ridiculous grin too, damn it.
At least, I thought I did. I knew for sure that I wanted something; I just wasn't sure what it was. Just something different. Something else. Something more… than this.
So when Tanya had started yelling facts about herself at me over the goddamn awful music in that nightclub, I made an effort to listen. I asked question after question and she told me fact after fact. I knew so much shit about her and yet I still felt like I didn't know her at all. But I convinced myself that that shit just took time. It would happen. She was perfect for me, so how could it not?
I was jarred out of my thoughts by some asshole rushing past me. He nearly knocked me to the fucking ground and he didn't even say "excuse me." I swear, I must have been the only bastard left with some manners. It was all my mother's fault.
Finally, I made it to class. The lecture had already begun and, judging by the blank look on most of the students' faces, the professor had been prattling on for a while now. I looked around for a seat. I couldn't see Mike anywhere which wasn't at all surprising. Fucker was probably still passed out on top of his girl. He would most definitely emerge late in the afternoon, just in time to beg me for my notes. He was the kind of guy who would ridicule you in the morning as you left to go to class and then beg you for your notes as soon as you got back. I bet he had been a real geek in high school and was one of those people who decide to "reinvent" themselves in college and all that shit. I was beginning to sort of hate him.
I made my way towards the front of the lecture room. Since the professor had already seen me walk in late, there was no fucking point in hiding at the back. At least this way I could follow what was left of the lecture. I saw what looked like a spare lecture handout on one of the end desks next to some girl.
I lifted it at the corner and paused to look at her. Her wavy brown hair was covering the side of her face and it seemed like she had her own copy of the handout. It didn't look like she was saving this one for anyone, but Esme's disapproving face flashed in my mind and I decided to ask anyway, like the polite bastard I was raised to be. "Do you mind?"
She didn't even look up at me. I just barely heard her mumble, "No."
What the hell was the point of even trying to be polite? She was just like the rest of them, too self-absorbed and obsessing over her own infantile problems to even spare me a glance. Bitch.
A/N: So that was the first chapter of Just Like Them from Edward's perspective. I'll be adding more as we go along. They will get longer. Does he sound like a normal guy?
Oh and as always, many thanks to my beta, thequietlife, for helping me with everything!