The Official Website for Dane Corleone is a Liar.

Click here to edit subtitle

Dane Corleone is a Liar is a fiction short story series written by D. Ryan Morissette. Read it. Or not. I don't care. New chapter comes out whenever it's finished.

Dane Corleone is a Liar: Episode One.

And there I stood in the Dow Hall lobby, waiting for the people behind the table to give me the keys to my room. Today was September 7th and it was also move in day for and my first day staying at Pace University. I looked a mess, but what most considered a mess was desirable to me. I was wearing a black t-shirt that said “G*  F*CK  Y**RS*LF: Would you like to buy a vowel?” across the front of it, along with a pair of skinny black jeans, a red flannel shirt over the t-shirt, a black 59/50 cap turned backward and last but not least a pair of black fingerless gloves that read “bite me” between the two of them. I stood there in line with my best friends Mike and Meagan and Mike’s dad Gabriel, until I was finally called over to the table by the RA’s.

You may be asking yourself, “Where are this kids parents? And why aren’t they with him on his move in day to college?” Well, I’m not going to go into all of the details on how my mother  Rose worked to systematically destroy my teenage life in an attempt to get me to leave her house so I wouldn’t try and force her to get up and get a job anymore. That would just take too long. I’m also not going to tell you about how I came to hate my mother so much that even though I despised living under her tyrannical roof, I dealt with the living situation for the sake of me being able to drive her crazy with my “disruptive” teenage behavior. And I’m not going to tell you about how my mother threw plates at me when I said or did something that she didn’t like. I’m not going to tell you about how she constantly told me that there was something wrong with me whenever I got upset with her because she refused to get out of bed and get a job. I’m not going to tell you about how my mother used her diagnosis of Manic Depression and myself as scapegoats for all of her problems in life.  I’m not going to tell you about how she constantly put my little sister Jocelyn on a pedestal and treated her special and constantly reminded her that I was “a bad kid”. I’m not going to tell you about how my ten year old sister always ran and coddled my mother every time that I had an argument with her. I’m not going to tell you about how my Aunt Venus was psycho and immediately jumped on my mother’s side during every argument that I had with her, but was my best friend whenever there was no fighting going on in the house. I’m not going to tell you about how I was a senior in high school and had to work about 30 hours a week just to provide myself with everything that I needed (because my unemployed mother couldn’t), while having to maintain an A average in school. I’m not going to tell you about how I had to walk a mile and a half to work every day even though there was a functioning car sitting in the driveway and two people who were permitted to drive it. (Three if you count me)I’m not going to tell you about how my mother threw away my college acceptance letter and put all of the pictures of me around the house face down on tables. I’m not going to tell you that as my 18th birthday approached, my mother would with a smile tell me about how I didn’t have much time left until she could kick me out of the house. I’m not going to tell you about how my stepdad Rob stayed neutral throughout my confrontations with my mother. I’m not going to tell you about how the cops were at my house every week either because my mom called them on me, or because I called them on her. I’m not going to tell you about how I resorted to marijuana use in order to cope with the pain of living in a household full of people who weren’t exactly your friends even though they were supposed to be the people that you could always turn to about anything. I’m not going to tell you about how my mother threatened to start smoking crack again in order to get my stepdad to take her side in her arguments with me. I’m not going to tell you about how I got absolutely nothing for Christmas, except for $100 that Irene (Rob’s mother) gave me and the new Duffy album that I brought for myself.  I’m not going to tell you about how my mother laid in her bed all day and played games on her cell phone and made my sister and I cook and bring her food at her command and then make us take the dishes out of her room when they began to accumulate and have me wash them. I’m not going to tell you about how my mother always made my Aunt go out and buy her snacks and whatever else she wanted no matter what time of day or night it was. I’m not going to tell you about how my mother occasionally called the police and lied to them about me hitting her in an attempt to get me removed from  the house.  I’m not going to tell you about how my mother would take the $20-$100 that my stepdad made every night from driving cab for a company that was going bankrupt, and spend it at her karaoke shows which she considered to be her work despite the fact that it didn’t earn her any money. I’m not going to tell you about how my mother sometimes didn’t let me into the kitchen to eat up her food that she bought with her food stamps and welfare money that I despised but she loved and didn’t feel ashamed of even though she had been depending on them as her sources of income for over two years by that point in time. I’m not going to tell you about how whenever I asked for money for things such as clothes or shoes (when mine got rips in them) or school events like prom or lunch/dinner at work, my mother simply responded “You have a job. You pay for it.” I’m not going to tell you about how my mother spent her welfare money on new hair and nails and clothes for herself my sister and aunt instead of important things like putting my door back on it’s hinge or fixing the hole in the wall in out hallway. I’m not going to tell you about how my mom spent the food stamps mostly on snacks like cracker jack, chips, shrimp, and Kool-Aid for the house every month instead of foods that you could make meals out of. I’m not going to tell you about how I lived in Toms River, New Jersey, where I went to a high school full of rich kids: The type of rich kids that got BMW’s as their first cars. I’m not going to tell you that I was the happiest when my mother went out to her karaoke shows or her friend’s houses. I’m not going to tell you about how my mother constantly told me to give live in Harbor House, the county’s homeless shelter for teens, because no one in the house wanted me there anymore. I’m not going to tell you about how my mom tried to convince my counselors that I was trying to kill her because I played “Let’s Kill Tonight” by Panic! At The Disco on repeat in my room for hours because it was my favorite song off of their new album. I’m not going to tell you about how my mother would lock me out of the house a lot of times when I worked late and I had to threaten to call the cops (or actually call them sometimes) to get her to let me in. I’m not going to tell you about how I spent more time at my neighbor’s the Gonzola’s than my own house. I’m not going to tell you about how my mother got pissed off at me every time I refused to loan her money. I’m not going to tell you about how my mother screamed at my little sister every time a teacher called from her school saying that Jocelyn says that all her mammy does is lay in bed and play games on her cell phone all day. I’m not going to tell you about how there was always at least one utility cut off in my house, whether it be the water, or the gas, or the electricity. And finally, I am not going to tell you about how my mother finally put me out on the street on May 28th, exactly a week before my 18th birthday, and exactly two weeks before my high school graduation.

            I don’t need your sympathy, your approval or your point of view on the matter. I went and stayed with my best friend Michael Gomez and his parents Gabriel and Martha and there I learned in three short months how to be responsible, not blame others for my problems, how to not live like a filthy animal, and how to work hard to succeed and provide for myself. In short, I learned how to be the exact opposite of my mother. Meagan Walker has always been my best friend above Mike and she happens to be his girlfriend. I’ve known her since the beginning of my junior year and I’ve been best friends with her ever since we met. This explains who these strange people who are with me at Pace are.

            There’s probably a few things that you should know about me before I continue telling my part of the story in order for you to better understand my character, not that I need your approval or anything.

            My name is Dane Corleone. I’m black and I’m 18 years old.I’m like 5’9” and I always have an angry look on my face. People often refer to me as “the whitest black kid they know.” I’m an attention seeking rebel (as you can tell by my outfit that I’m currently wearing.) My all time favorite bands are Panic! At The Disco and MGMT and my favorite type of music is new music that sounds old. I absolutely adore studying history and I’m going to college to become a high school history teacher. I’m the type of sick fuck that laughs at repetitive domestic abuse and pregnant women doing backflips on trampolines. It’s not that I get joy from these things. I’m just amused by the stupidity of people that partake in activities such as those and crap like that makes me feel better about my life situation. I’m pretty sure that I’m bisexual (or “part fag” as I like to say). I’m a pathological liar and most stories that I tell people are made up by me in an attempt to make my life seem more exciting. More like one of those dramas on HBO. I love HBO dramas so much. Daria Morgendorffer is my idol and over the years, I’ve made it so that my personality slightly reflects hers. I used to have a superiority complex but I’m not sure if I have it anymore, but I definitely still have my “one-up” complex.  I suffer from depression and every time I smoke marijuana, I freak out and fear that I will become a drug addict like my mom and Uncle used to be. I always look angry. In my freshman year of high school, everyone thought I had a hit list. I don’t know who my real father is and I consider Gabriel, Mike’s dad, my first father figure, the only man that I’ve ever wanted to be like. People tell me that I’m very mature for my age and I’m constantly found criticizing my own generation because we are all a bunch of sluts and alcoholics who idolize rappers that make the youth generation think that it’s okay to constantly party and smoke weed. I have low self esteem because I’ve never seen myself as being attractive and I’m like 240 lbs although I don’t look that fat at all. I love drama. I’ m always doing things for the attention of others and I get bummed out when I think that somebody doesn’t like me. I have a very sarcastic demeanor and attitude (back to the whole Daria influence) and I’m constantly doing things to earn attention from others. I’ve only been in two serious relationships so far in my life, both during my sophomore year of high school. Sometimes I can be a sociopath and I hate when people tell me “don’t talk shit about me. Say it to my face” because when I do start saying the stuff to their face, they complain that they’re being bullied and then “try to kill themselves”. I’m a hipster and I played varsity chess in high school. I hate pop music these days because most of it is about drinking and partying and it’s sending the wrong message to the youth culture. I like reading about feminist culture and the whole Loeb and Leopold trial. Chuck Palahniuk is my favorite author.  I drive a 1984 Cadillac Deville (well at least not yet in the story) and I love to sing. Like I said before, Mike and Meagan are my best friends and as you can see so far are always there for me. And that’s about it.

Janine Garrison, the brunette R.A. standing behind the table swung her hand in the air and motioned for Dane to come over and get his keys from her. “I guess that’s me” remarked Dane. He trudged over to the table. Janine stood at about 5 feet and 9 inches tall. She had a figure that resembled an hourglass and a smile that could brighten up a cloudy sky. Her hair was somewhat of a dark brown and it just slightly covered her right eye.  “Hi. I’m Janine.” said the optimistic R.A. “I’m your biggest problem for the next nine months, but you can call me Dane Corleone.” Replied Dane. “Oh.” Responded Janine with a confused expression on her face as she handed Dane the keys to his room. “You’re room 236.” She said. “These guys will help you carry your stuff to your room.” She pointed to a group of fairly large football players. “Thanks.” said Dane. Then he turned and walked toward Mike, Meagan, and Gabriel who were holding his crates that had to be carried up to his room. “Hey Dane.” said John Robertson, a boy that Dane roomed with at summer orientation, to Dane as he walked past him. The curious Dane turned and took a good look at the John before continuing on his way to help carry things upstairs with Gabriel, Mike, Meagan and the football players without saying a single word to him.

Once in room 236, Dane took a look around and inspected the room in which he would be living in for the next nine months. “It smells in here.” Said Dane as he Mike, Meagan and Gabriel began arranging things in the room so they could finish before Dane’s roommate Colton showed up.

Downstairs, John Roberston, waiting on line for his keys, turned to his dad John sr. and addressed him. “I don’t know” said John. “He didn’t seem like too happy or nice of a person at orientation when I first met him but after that he turned out to be a pretty nice kid.” There’s nothing nice about completely ignoring someone when they say hello to you. It’s just completely rude.” Complained John sr.  Janine motioned for John to come over to the table and pick up his keys. “Hi. I’m Janine, your R.A. for the year. You’re in room 242.” Said Janine in a warm tone to John as she handed him his keys. “Nice to meet you. And thanks for the keys.” Replied John as John sr. made his way over to John’s belongings in the corridor. “Wait, before you guys go, what’s that kid Dane’s deal. I saw how he just brushed you off.” Janine inquired. “I’m not sure. He was nice to me at orientation when he was my roommate with that other kid. I guess he just likes to have a certain first impression to give off to people, because that’s the way he acted when I first met him at orientation.” “Oh, okay. I was just wondering.” Responded Janine. “Yeah, I feel like he’s going to make this a very interesting year for this university.” Said to Janine before he turned to go help his parents and some football players carry his belongings up to his room.

            It’s not that I have anything against John Robertson. I just don’t think that I should be associating myself with kids like him just yet. I get a new start here at Pace. Nobody knows me as the funny white-black rebel/activist varsity chess player, with the attitude problems and skinny jeans. Nobody here even knows my name yet. I have a clean slate here and this time, I’m going to see what it’s like to be part of the “cool” crowd. Just for a little bit and then I’ll go back to being myself. I mean, I like the way I am, and I don’t really care about what others my age have to say about me, but I just want a change for a little while. You know? I need some new scenery. And in order to achieve that, I kinda can’t afford to associate myself with kids like John Robertson for now.

Dane stood in the parking lot and waved goodbye to Gabriel, Mike and Meagan as they rode away in Gabriel’s van. After a brief moment, he pulled out his cell phone and began walking back toward Dow Hall. As he walked, he stared at a saved text message that he had on this screen from his graduation day. It was from Gabriel and it read: “Congratulations Dane! We are all so proud of you! I myself am so proud of you! Your mother was a fool to not want you. I’m going to make you my new son.” A slight tear dropped from his eye as he opened the door to Dow Hall, his attention still on the old text message.

Dow Hall was an old building that resembled a mansion. It had three four floors, three inhabited by students, and one at the top that was once open for student for student living but for some reason was now dead bolted shut, off limits to everyone in the building. Paintings of Mrs. Dow, the widow of the first proprietor of the building, were all over the building. The walls were a cross between beige and white that leaned more toward white and they clearly displayed the wear and tear than the building had acquired over the hundred-something years that it had existed. The dorm rooms in Dow hall each consisted of two rooms fit for two people which were connected by a bathroom for all four residents in the suite to use.

Dane awoke to from his sleep to the sound of his door being opened. “My bad dude. Did I wake you?” said Colton Bernard, Dane’s roommate. Colton stood about six feet and three inches tall and had a somewhat goofy disposition. He had curly blonde hair and couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and fifty pounds. He wore glasses and almost always had a smile on his face and a Titleist cap on his head.

“No. It’s okay. I shouldn’t have been sleeping anyway.” Dane laughed as he got up to introduce himself to Colton’s parents. “Hi. I’m Dane. Nice to meet you.” said Dane on his best behavior to Colton’s mother Diana and his father Mark. “Nice to meet you too.” replied Diana in a pleased voice. “Your roommate seems like a very polite kid. I’m sure you two will get along fine.” Diana addressed Colton.

What the fuck are they talking about? I’m wearing a shirt that says GO FUCK YOURSELF on it.

After about a half an hour of unpacking, Colton’s parents had finally bid him adieu. He pulled out his Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy poster out of a box that was on top of his bed and began taping it to his wall while Dane fell back into a slumber on his bed, only to be awoken again a brief moment later by another student who lived in his hall, named Vito Radin. “What’s good?  I’m Vito. I live down the hall in room 212. You guys should stop by later. Me and some of the honors kids are gonna be chilling in there.” said Vito. “Sounds good dude. I’m Colton by the way.” replied Colton. Vito looked at half-awake Dane. “That your roommate?” asked Vito. “Yeah his name’s Dane.” responded Colton. “What’s good bro?” Vito greeted Dane. “What’s good.” responded Dane. “Alright, well I’m gonna get going. You guys should definitely come through later.” Said Vito. “You got it dude.” Said Colton.

 

            I saw the opportunity to infiltrate the “cool kid” crowd and I took it. Unfortunately hanging out in Vito’s room was stupid. There were only like two girls there. Besides them, it was a sausage fest. One girl, her name was Sam Harper I think, she seemed very, I don’t know how to put it, well kept up. She was about 5’3” and had lustrous, jet black hair that was kept up in a neat bun. She was very skinny and freckles lightly dotted her cheeks like they do with most Irish chicks. Her whole demeanor was very serious but whenever she smiled, she nullified her intimidation factor by just a little. She carried herself well from what I could tell. But the other girl was kinda sketchy. I don’t know why. Her name was Corrina Thomas I’m pretty sure. She was about 5’4” and had long, feathered brown hair. Her teeth were probably the straightest and whitest that you have ever seen. Her ass was huge, but in a good way…the kind of huge that guys like. The rest of the people there were Colton and I, Vito, the kids who lived next door to Vito’s room…pretty sure their names were DJ and Tom…and then some other guys from the Hillside Hall. These kids seemed like they belonged to the “cool kid” crowd, but something was missing. I think it was because these were Honors College kids so they had to be at least a little straightedge. The next night everybody was making a big deal about going to the townhouses because the Lacrosse team in Townhouse 21 was throwing the first party of the semester. Anyone who was anyone was going to the townhouses. I was gonna go, but I didn’t have the heart to ask to go with Vito, Sam, Corrina and that DJ kid and so I just decided to not go. Vito said I should show up with Colton and I was like “Nah. I’m good” Colton just didn’t seem like he belonged there at the townhouses….and neither did I for that matter. Fuck this being cool shit…

            Sam Harper, Corrina Thomas, Vito Radin, DJ Pinciatti, and two guys from the Hillside Hall, Justin Compton and Steven Mineola walked up the steep hill to the townhouses. Corrina pulled out her cell phone and admired her screen’s background which happened to be a picture of her boyfriend Tomas than she has just broken up with. Once the group had arrived in front of Townhouse 21, Corrina took her attention away from the picture and shoved her phone back into her tight pocket. The townhouses were crowded with students, inside and out. People stood outside in crowds and watched as people drank beer from funnels while others smoked their cigarettes, hookah’s, blunts, bowls, and bongs. Inside Townhouse 21, there was barely any room to move around, let alone dance. Partygoers practically stood on top of each other. Corrina navigated her way through the traffic that filled the Townhouse and headed for the bathroom on the second floor. “Fuck” whimpered Corrina as she she went to open the bathroom door that happened to be locked. A few seconds after Corrina’s bathroom rejection, a somewhat chubby red haired boy opened the door and came walking out of the bathroom.  As he walked past Corrina her eyes met and followed his glance. Time sowed down as the boy raised his chin as a form of acknowledgment toward her, and then proceeded to continue on his way back down the stairs to join the party. Corrina smiled to herself and walked into the bathroom slowly shutting the door behind her.

Downstairs, Sam Harper took a break from dancing with another Townhouse goer and drunkenly dragged him with her into a vacant corner of the room.  The boy smiled at Sam as she reached into the back of her shirt to fix her bra-strap and then proceeded to take another sip of her jungle juice. “Damn you could hold your own” said the boy to Sam after moving in closer toward Sam to the point where his body was almost rubbing up against hers.  Sam pulled the boy’s cup of beer out of his hands and took a giant gulp from it, and then handed it back to the boy. “Wow. I’m fucking in love. You’re a bad bitch.” The boy complimented Sam grinning as he put his hand around her neck.  Sam looked into the boys and then reached in to kiss him.

Outside in front of Townhouse 21, Vito handed his lighter to D.J. and took another drag from his cigarette.  D.J. turned and looked at Vito as he lit his cigarette. “This is our life for the next couple of years.” Said D.J. “I can get used to it.” Vito smiled and flicked the ash off of the end of his cigarette. “You trying to smoke?” D.J. questioned Vito. “I mean, if we can find bud. You know where we can get some bud?”  Vito looked across the walk and shook his hand signaling for a guy and a girl that he saw to come over to him. “You guys know anywhere we can get some bud?” The guy smiled at Vito. “I’ll hit up one of my brothers. How much you trying to get?”  “A dub 15” replied D.J as he pulled out his wallet. The guy spoke on his cellphone for about 45 seconds while the girl continued to take consistent drags from her cigarette. “Ight. He’ll be out in a minute.” Said the guy. “Word.” Vito paused. “So you said you were gonna hit up one of your brothers? Did you mean brother as in a family member? Or frat brothers?” The guy raised an eyebrow toward Vito. “My frat brothers my dude.”  A guy came walking out of another nearby Townhouse, walked over to the guy and girl who were speaking to Vito and D.J and shook the guys hand and then pulled out a bag of marijuana. The drug dealer made the transaction with D.J. “Nice doing business with you.” Said the drug dealer. “Thanks bro.” Replied D.J. “So what frat are you guys in if you don’t mind me asking?” Vito addressed the guy and the drug dealer. “We’re in Omega Zeta Chi.” The guy took a drag from the girl’s cigarette and then continued speaking. “ If you’re ever interested in Greek Life, you should hit me up. Come check out the brotherhood. “ The guy gave his number to Vito and D.J. and walked away with the girl as the drug dealer walked away in the opposite direction.

Back inside Townhouse 21, Sam Harper stood, drunk and restrained in the corner of the room with the boy that she kept feeling the need to make out with. After another drunkenly passionate kiss, the boy drew his face back, put his hand under Sam’s chin and gazed into her eyes. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” Said the boy. Sam smiled at the boy and then took his drink out of his hand and took another sip from it.

Corrina slithered her way through the crowd of grinding sluts and bags of testosterone looking left and right, hoping to find the red haired boy that she saw at the bathroom door. After about three minutes of butting into grinding couples in pursuit of the red haired boy, she slipped into the kitchen. Sweat dripped down from her forehead as she stared at the giant tub of jungle juice. “Have a drink.” A boy with big strong biceps walked up and put his arm around Corrina. She blushed from embarrassment. “I can’t drink.” She replied. “Why not? It’s only like twenty proof.” Asked the boy with big biceps. Corrina smiled at the boy. “I’m an epileptic. If I get drunk, I’ll have a seizure.” Responded Corrina. “Oh. Well do you smoke?” asked the boy. Corrina shrugged her shoulders. “Can’t do that either.” Corrina spotted the red haired boy walking out of the townhouse door as the boy with big biceps continued to pull the hair out from in front of her face. “Who is that red haired guy?” Corrina asked the boy. “Which one?” replied the boy. “The one that’s walking out of the door.” She pointed at the door. “Oh the fat ginger?” The boy laughed. “His name’s Freddie Redmond. He lives in this house.” The boy pointed up. “Why?” “No reason. I was just curious.” Corrina shrugged her shoulders again.

Sam Harper could barely stand up straight as the boy that she was with continued to back her farther into the corner and suck on her face. After another drunken kiss, the boy pulled his face away and raised an eyebrow at Sam. “You know, I’m not saying it has to happen…but I’m just curious…” Sam smiled at the boy. “Absolutely not.” She said as she pried his drink out of his hand and fought her way through the crowd while drinking it.

The boy with big biceps stood hugging Corrina from behind while kissing her neck but Corrina smiled and giggled to herself as she continued to think about the fat ginger boy. “Freddie Redmond, huh.” She quietly whimpered. The boy trailed his hand up Corrina’s stomach until it reached her breast as their bodies swayed together in one motion. Corrina closed her eyes and continued to just sway to the beat of the music. “You wanna go upstairs?” shouted the boy with big biceps so Corrina could hear him over the nearby subwoofers. “And do what?” asked Corrina in response. “I don’t know. Watch a movie.” Replied the boy. Corrina thought to herself as she lay locked in the boys big strong arms until Sam Harper came and pulled her away from the boy. “What the fuck?!” exclaimed the boy with big biceps. “It’s time for her to go home. The R.A.’s are coming” Replied Sam. “Yeah it is kinda getting late.” Added Corrina. “But what’s your name?” she asked the boy with big biceps. “I’m Tommy McDowell. I live in this house. Come over and chill whenever you want.” The boy with big biceps shouted to Corrina as Sam dragged her through the crowd toward the door. Outside, Sam and Corrina met up with DJ, Steve and Justin. DJ explained that he had no idea where Vito was because he had walked away with the guy from the frat that he had bought marijuana from earlier. Corrina piled everyone into her car while sweating from fear of being written up or even arrested for underaged drinking. She stood stressed by her driver’s side door, feeling helpless because DJ and Justin ran out of her to go pee in the parking lot. Drunken Steven walked over to Corrina and held her in place, looking down into her eyes. “Calm down. Everything is going to be alright. I promise.” Steve slurred to her, which was followed by him holding her face by her cheeks and kissing her on her forehead. Corrina stared into Steve’s eyes for a moment with a puss on her face, but then composed herself and screamed for DJ and Justin to get back into the car, threatening to leave without them if they didn’t.

 

Corrina drove on the dark, narrow New York road fast in anticipation of making it back to Dow Hall before someone puked in her car. After about twenty minutes of driving, Corrina and her carload of drunken idiots finally made it back to Dow Hall.

 

I personally think that it’s dumb that Pace’s Westchester campus is split up into two campuses. Pleasantville is where all of the classes are and where two dorms and the townhouses are and Briarcliff is where the rest of the dorms like Dow and Hillside were. What is the point? They are in two totally different towns, twenty minutes away from each other.

 

Instead of leaving with Justin to go back to Hillside house, Steve went to hang out with Corrina in her room. Steve was about 6 feet tall and was more husky than skinny. He had short, curly brown hair than rested on top of his head and an almost unnoticeable gap between his front teeth. They sat on her bed- Steve, still drunk, put his hands on the back of Corrina’s neck and then proceeded to massage her shoulders. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” Said Steve while working his hands on Corrina’s shoulders. Corrina laid her head back and rested it on his right shoulder. As Steve continued to massage Corrina’s shoulders, her roommate Kiersten Chadwick stormed into their room. She began putting her purse and other belongings on her bed when she noticed Steve comforting Corrina. Corrina noticed Kiersten’s acknowledgment of her and Steve and looked away from her. “Hey.” Said Kiersten to Corrina and Steve. “Hey Kiersten.” Replied Steve as Corrina simultaneously whispered hello to her. Kiersten  changed her shirt and then jolted out of the room giving Steve and Corrina a glare of disapproval and angrily slamming the door shut on the way out. Outside the door, Kiersten looked at the ground in disapproval, uttered the word “bitch” and then trekked away down the hall.

“Go check if she’s behind the door.” Corrina ordered Steve. He jumped up from her bed, put his ear against the door and then shook his head “no”. Corrina bobbed her head back and layed flat on her bed, putting her hands on her forehead as a display of frustration. “My life.” She chuckled as she spoke. “What’s the matter?” Steve put his hand on his head. Corrina rolled on her side and looked directly at Steve. “Kiersten has had this crush on you ever since she met you at Orientation.” Steve paused for a moment, rubbed the back of his head, while grinning and then walked over and laid next to Corrina on the bed. “Well, I don’t like her.” Steve gave another drunken, half dazed smile. “I like you.” He said. Corrina closed her eyes and smiled. “You’re drunk Steve.” She said. He leaned over Corrina and looked into her eyes. The smell of beer gently lingered from Steve’s breath as he peered deep into her brown eyes. Corrina caught Steve’s stare as he pushed the hair out of her face. A moment of silence went by and then Steve reached his head forward and began to kiss Corrina. Corrina wrapped her arms around Steve as he continued to passionately kiss her. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he took a break to look into her eyes again, and then reached back in to kiss her again. Corrina continued to hold on to Steve’s back as he picked her up and rolled over. Corrina leaned up and continued the mutual stare between the two and then reached back, this time kissing Steve on his neck instead. Steve gently ran his fingers through her hair as she continued to kiss his neck and then laid back and embraced her lips as she bobbed her head up and kiss him on the lips. After about two more minutes of kissing, Corrina rolled off of Steve and laid next to him, tired and locked in his arms. After about ten minutes of lying next to each other in embrace, the couple fell asleep.

I left for New Jersey the next day. I had to go back to get my car out of the shop and drive it back up here because there was nowhere for me to park it in New Jersey, being that I was homeless. When I got to Mike’s house everything was great. I know I was only gone for like two days but it felt great to be back there. Gabriel and Martha brought back my car and I was in so ecstatic. Later that night, Gabriel told me that I couldn’t stay over at his house anymore if I ever came back down to Jersey to visit. That just destroyed all of my happiness. I mean, I know he was only imposing that rule so I could stop depending on him to have a place to stay and grow up and work for a place to stay instead of just getting it handed to me, but I didn’t want to listen to reason. I kept on thinking about how I wasn’t gonna have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving or Christmas, and that I’m gonna be sleeping in my car whenever I have to go back to Jersey.

            I had never felt as lonely as when Gabriel said that to me…