→ Jamie Lane ● Room 7
"Jamie Lane," he informed the woman, wondering why she didn't already know - there were only a dozen or so students, surely they knew who everyone was.
"Ah, Jamie," maybe she did know him afterall, "I believe there's a call for you, would you mind?" Ms Fallcrest gestured to the phone in the corner of the room, away from the crowd and any listening ears.
I guess who that could be, he thought, knowing full-well that his mother was going to be on the end of the line. She would start off by lecturing him, 'where have you been?' 'We were so worried!' 'You could have been anywhere!' However, that lecturing would quickly lead to an apology. Jamie knew his mother felt guilty for her every action, every time Jamie kicked off she would come crawling back with a compromise or a gift.
He picked up the corded phone, which was dangling freely from the wall. Nancy, his mother, must have heard the footsteps, straight away she burst out into a predictable series of statements.
"Jamie! Is that you? Why did you do that? We miss you!"
Jamie had absolutely no interest in speaking with her, it was beyond that now. Adjusting the pitch of his voice, he warped his usual voice to something similar to Ms Fallcrest's.
"I'm sorry, it seems I was mistaken. We'll inform you when he's able to talk, Mrs. Lane. Good day." He slammed the phone back on to it's hook, pacing back to where his gift bag waited and strolled off to the dormitory.
Valiant House he mumbled, it was a familiar name - half the mansions on his streets had similar names, but this was going to be something new entirely.
The dormitory was quiet, however he did spot some doors open - probably other new students finding their rooms. Taking the lift to the second floor, Jamie soon found room 7. He sliced the card key through the reader, opening the door to his home for the next term.
- - - - -
Ginny was sprawled out on top of her bed, her hands were behind her head and her seemingly never ending legs were stretched out. The door opening did not phase her one bit, in fact, she was experiencing a bit of delayed jet lag due to the six hour time difference between England and her home in Alabama. It was her first time leaving the country and the process to get her passport and student visa had been exhausting. So far, it seemed like many different cultures were represented so far in the small amount of students she had seen in the Grand Hall.
- - - - -
The card key took longer than he expected, he swiped it through the reader over and over again waiting for the green light. Finally, it gave him the all clear. He sighed, in a slight huff, and stumbled in to the room. As he heaved open the door, far stronger than needed, he swung big bag off his shoulder and on to the nearest bed.
The bag impacted Ginny solidly in the chest and she screamed herself awake as she now felt a throbbing pain across her bosom. The heavy duffel was soon tossed aside and she sat up, massaging the pain away as she felt tears running down her cheek. Her deep southern accent was amplified as she cried out, "The hell is wrong with you and what are you doing in my room?!"
"
Your room?" Jamie asked mockingly, without a hint of an apology. "Room 7 - Jamie Lane," he said, showing her his key card, "What are you, the maid?"
He looked the girl up and down. Jamie could tell she was taller than him, even sitting down. Her accent screamed American, although he wasn't sure exactly where she was from. Jamie didn't have the pleasure of siblings, and rarely bothered socialising with the goody-two-shoes girls of his former school. This one seemed different, but he was no where near ready to roll over - this was his room, on his terms.