Boarding School RP [Freeze & Owlflight] IC

Rachel placed the final textbook on the shelf with a satisfied nod. Dusting her hands off, the girl took a final look around her new dormitory. She'd arrived early that morning to get all of her stuff put away; classes started the next day, after all. Speaking of the dorm, the girl was pleasantly surprised by the conditions. The walls were painted a light, breezy blue colour, and all of the furniture, as well as the bed sheets, were pristine white. There were two twin sized beds set against opposite sides of the back wall. There was a night stand beside each, complete with a reading lamp. Two dressers and desks with bookshelves above them completed the room's furnishings. Rachel had claimed the bed closest to the door, and her clothes were all neatly folded in one of the dressers. Her office/school supplies had been arranged on the desk, and a framed picture of herself and her childhood best friend, Amelia, was set on the nightstand beside her bed.

Humming to herself, Rachel plopped down on her bed and grabbed her copy of Pride & Prejudice. Flipping it open, she began to wonder about her roommate. I wonder what she'll be like. . . I haven't seen hide nor hair of her yet. She's probably just running late; I bet she'll get here soon. With that, Rachel began to read contently.

Jett sauntered down the dorm hallway with a carefree aura about him. He had a medium-sized duffel bag on his shoulder containing all the clothes he would need, along with all his toiletries. In his left hand was his surfboard, making extra sure not to slam it into a wall or a door. Finally, he found the dorm labeled with his assigned number. He dropped his duffel bag from his right shoulder, turned his board vertical, and reached into his right pocket, producing a key. He unlocked the door, but before opening it, he dropped the key back into his pocket. He opened the door slightly so that i was ajar, picked up his duffel bag, kicked the door open with a loud thud and threw his duffel bag inside.

Perhaps it wasn't the quietest or most efficient way to get everything inside in one trip, but it worked. He walked in, unaware of Rachel at first, setting his surfboard against the wall next to the door. After making sure it was balanced, he shut the door and turned around. His eyes scanned the room and then settled on Rachel.

"Whoa," he said, taking a step back. "I think you're in the wrong dorm, beautiful."

Rachel jumped at the sound of the door flying open with a thud. She looked up from her book and was shocked to find some guy--an attractive one, admittedly--with a surfboard sauntering in like he owned the place. How on earth did he get in here? I thought I'd locked the door behind myself. . . . Slowly, the girl set her book down on the bed beside her, trying to decide how best to react. She cocked an eyebrow at the boy's words. "Excuse me?" she replied a bit incredulously. Did he really just call me beautiful? He's got some nerve. . . . "I think you're the one who's mistaken. I was definitely placed in 23B." Then she stood, smiling pleasantly. "I'm sure that the office would gladly sort this all out, though. I suggest you take your surfboard there and go pay them a visit." Rachel turned her back to him, pretending to adjust the already perfectly placed picture frame on her night stand. As far as she was concerned, this conversation was over. There's no way that I'll be switching rooms after I've already gotten everything put away perfectly. And rooming with some sort of lady-killer surfer dude is a double no.

Jett snickered. He reached back into his pocket about pulled out something else. This time a small slip of paper on which he had hastily written a sloppy '238'. He flashed it to her before she mentioned something about going to the office. For a moment he considered doing just that. But wait, how many guys get to brag about accidentally rooming with a girl. A pretty hot girl nonetheless. He walked up behind her and placed his duffel bag on the bed. "Or maybe we're both wrong," he said softly getting close behind her. "And this wasn't a mistake."

He hoped so. If they did end up rooming like this, and some school administrators found out, that could cause a lot of problems. Whatever, they were the ones who made the mistake anyway. If anything bad did happen, that would definitely be Jett's excuse.

Well, looks like he wasn't lying about being assigned to this room. . . . This is ridiculous. But I certainly won't be the one to back down and ask to be moved. That was it; Rachel had made up her mind, and she was far too stubborn to take it back. As these thoughts crossed her mind, the girl could feel her new roommate moving to stand close behind her. She was sorely tempted to throw back her elbow and catch him in the gut, but she decided that that wasn't particularly nice, and it would probably cause problems.

Instead, she turned slowly to face him, narrowing her eyes. "I sincerely hope that you aren't trying to seduce me or something. I suggest you don't try anything like that, or living with me will become very hellish, very fast." Then Rachel flashed him a smile, one that was far too sweet to follow such a threat. Casually, she took a seat on the edge of her bed and looked up at him, crossing one leg over the other and folding her hands in her lap. "Since it looks like you plan on staying here, I'd like to make something clear: I value personal space and neatness. I don't like to be touched, and I don't like having a messy room. You should remember those things, Mr. . . .?" she trailed off, waiting for his name. I'm kind of being a bitch. . . . Rachel realized. Well. . . It's his fault. I'll be nice later, when he agrees to respect me and my space. So there.

"I sincerely hope that you aren't trying to seduce me or something. I suggest you don't try anything like that, or living with me will become very hellish, very fast," she had said. Ouch. Jett immediately threw her a grin just as big as her sweet smile as he shrugged his shoulders. "Just making sure you have some class," he explained. "I enjoy a challenge." As Rachel began to go on about how she values cleanliness and all that, Jett grabbed his duffel bag, unzipped the main zipper and dumped every article onto his bed with no grace to be seen. He turned back to her, smirking slightly. "Cole, Jett Cole," he said, before turning back to his pile of clothes, trying to sort different articles of clothing from the others. "Space. Neatness. Got it."

He continued sorting his clothes silently for a moment before speaking back up. "So is your name as pretty as your face?" he asked innocently.

A "challenge?" Ugh! Rachel was prepared to start her own little feminist rally right in this guy's face, but the tasteless way that he dumped his duffel bag out everywhere stopped her. The girl looked on in horror as he began to sort trough the unorganized pile of clothes. What a slob! Look how wrinkled everything is, and he doesn't even have the decency to pair his socks! Finally, she received a name from him.

"Nice to meet you, Jett," she was barely able to keep from spitting the name disdainfully. "Got it?" "Got it?!" No, Jett, you most certainly do not have it! Rachel thought wildly. What on earth have I gotten myself into? No, not even gotten myself--what has HE gotten me into?! "My name is Rachel Benett. You may know me as student council president, or the lead in the school's musical for the last two years, or president of the local PETA faction, or top of the class." She casually flipped her hair over her shoulder.

The surfer stopped for a moment and glanced behind his shoulders at Rachel. "Damn girl," he said, returned to sorting his clothes. "You must be busy, all the time. How do you have time party?" Satisfied with a pile of unfolded shorts, he scooped them up into his arms and walked over to the dresser on his side of the room, shoving them all into one drawer. As he walked back he nodded his head toward his surfboard. "As may have seen, I surf," he said coming back to the bed and scooping up a pile of shirts now. Once he stuffed them into another drawer he returned to grab his boxers and socks and once again he put them all in one drawer, not bothering to fold them or pair his socks.

"I make time. If one has the good sense to be organized--" She paused to look in disgust at the piles of clothes he was shoving into drawers. "--then it isn't difficult to work out time for whatever they want to do." Rachel glanced at the surfboard that he indicated. "Wow, I never would've guessed! I thought that was just for decoration," she answered sarcastically. "I'm sure that the girls are all over you." Rachel fought to resist the compulsive urge to go fold his clothes for him. You aren't his maid or his mother, Rachel! she scolded herself. If he wants to live in filth and chaos, fine. Just as long as it stays on his side of the room. . . .

Then the girl stood abruptly. "Well, I think I'll go have some lunch. I have friends to see." Without waiting for an answer, she turned and strode from the room and into the hallway, leaving her keys sitting on her desk. Rachel was too angry about how her perfect dorm, her perfect year was being ruined by dumb Jett to remember to grab such an essential item. What kind of name is Jett, anyway?! she huffed to herself as she walked briskly down the hallway.

Jett merely shrugged when she mentioned that girls must be 'all over him' despite the obvious sarcasm in her voice. "Bye, Beautiful!" he called after her obnoxiously loudly being cut off halfway through the sentence by the shutting of the door. Jett smirked and stood, walking over to Rachel's side of the room, examining the pictures on her nightstand. Something gleaming caught his eye: Rachel's key, left behind on the table. He grinned and shut his eyes, turning away. He saw nothing. Being careful to grab his own keys and his iPhone, he opened up the door with his surfboard back in hand. He had promised to meet some friends too down at the beach for some surfing before the school year started.

He turned on some music to accompany him on his quick walk to the shore. Rachel Benett... he thought, amused. Something was telling Jett that she would indeed pose a challenge for him. But he'd get to her, he always does.