I drum my fingers against the steering wheel.

'Relax,' Zach drawls from next to me. 'It's just a goddamn university. You've done worse shits like heading the mafia. What could be worse?'

I sigh heavily. 'It's just... all those people, the professors, the roommates, the need to get along, being a pathetic jerk, and letting everyone walk over me..... uh!' I slam my forehead onto the wheel.

'What was I thinking?' I bang my forehead on the wheel. ' University?' Bang. 'Me?' Bang. 'What.' Bang. 'Was.' Bang. 'I.' Bang. 'Thinking?' Bang.

'You don't want to show up on your first class with a bump on your forehead.'

'First class. Shit. First class. New faces. Boring subjects. Annoying Brats,' I pull at my hair. 'What was I thinking?'

Zach grunts. 'You need to find Beneventi.'

'Yeah. But I can do that without freaking enrolling in NYU! I can't believe that the four of you talked me into this.'

Zach stifles a yawn, before pulling out a cigarette. I suppress the urge to strangle him.

I still have no idea how I ended up in front the huge brick buildings with Zach beside me.

Blade did a background search on Christian Beneventi, but came up with absolutely nothing. Nada. Not even a grocery bill, as if such a person never existed.

I had thrown my head in my hands.

'What if there is no Christian Beneventi?'

'Should've thought about that before you killed Antonio,' Jay had replied sourly.

'We need to get to your dorm.'

I groan, Zach's voice bringing me out of my reverie.

'You don't have to stay there every day.'

I groan.

Zach twists in his seat and faces me. 'Hey, look at the positive side. You aren't here to study. You can party all night, bunk classes, and fail glamorously. You can be the rebel. It's a chance.'

Gritting my teeth, I reply, 'Fine.'

I chew my lip, before inhaling deeply. 'Hi! My name is Coral Collins. I am a transfer student form Cambridge. I am from London, though now my mother, Camila Collins, lives right down in Lower Manhattan. I am an only child, and I have a great interest in studying Law. And... uh, I am downright cheerful, always happy, smiling, with absolutely no anger issues. I have a positive outlook on life, and I am the best human being you'll ever find.'

I pause and bang my head on the steering again.

'Jeez. I sound like a dying whale. What the hell was Blade even thinking?'

'You'll be fine.'

'Coral Collins? How seriously lame is that? I might have well gone around calling myself Goofball.'

'Stop over reacting.'

'I have no anger issues? Hello, have you even seen me? I can't go twelve seconds without getting my fists in a fight.'

'Come on, Alex. Let's do this.'

'Zach, would you be a darling and go in there instead of me?' But the bastard just chuckles and gets out.

I get out of the Mustang, shutting the door with my feet. Its bright red now with black stripes, with a new license plate that read N BYOND. It was the least flashy thing in the garage, even though it was turning more than a couple of heads by now.

Zach picks up my boxes from the boot. Effortlessly, he makes his way to the reception.

Okay. Maybe it wasn't only the Mustang that turned heads. Most of the female populations of NYU were throwing not-so-subtle glances at Zach.

Oh well, he looked the part of the bad boy, with his unkempt hair that fell into his brown orbs, and all those rippling muscles that strained underneath the weight of my boxes.

Their attention also swiveled to me, most of them glaring. I returned them all, with an even greater intensity.

'Stop with the glaring,' Zach smirks. 'You'll frighten them all.'

I throw my hands up in desperation. 'What am I supposed to do? With the looks they are giving me, I could end up six feet under.'

Zach winks at one of the girls and I watch her swoon. 'It's not you. It's me.'

Jerk.

I huff and I walk ahead of him, making my way to the receptionist. She is blond, bored and slow.

She doesn't even look up as she says, 'Need help?'

I roll my eyes, though she can't see me.

'Uh, I am new?'

'So?'

I clench my fists. 'Do I have a dorm?'

She still looks down. 'Possibly.'

I am almost lunging above the desk to grab her head when Zach speaks up. 'Hey. My friend here, is new. Could you help her out?'

The receptionist snaps her head up at his voice and she reddens. She lets out a nervous giggle and tugs at her blond hair.

'Sorry, I didn't see you there,' she mumbles, the blush coating her cheeks reddening.

I don't believe this.

'I was talking to you,' I say, exasperated. Seriously, what's wrong with chicks nowadays?

Zach smirks at me before turning to the receptionist.

'Her name's Coral Collins and she is a transfer student. Mind directing me to her dorm?' He then smiled at her, a slow, flirtatious smile and I swear she moaned.

Never taking her eyes off him, she rummages through her files before declaring, 'It's Dorm B, west end. Room 301.' Her eyes, although reluctant, turn to me. 'You have a roommate. You need to get along. These are your stuff.'

She pushes some files across and I grab them half-heartedly. I had a half urge to punch her face in but I resist. She moves to Zach to make small talk, and I wait patiently for thirty seconds before I decide I can't take talks about pink bears anymore.

'Move it,' I mutter to Zach, before walking away. He waves at her, adjusts the boxes and follows me.

'You don't have to be grumpy because all women like me,' he says, flipping his hair off. He smiles at a group of passing girls. 'Hm, I think I should visit more often.'

Uh, why did my friends have to be douchebags?

Room 301.

I twist the doorknob, with my free hand. Locked.

Frustrated with my life, I raise my hand and knock.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

I am about to bang on the door when it opens, revealing a woman whose hair is in curlers.

'Wassup?' she says, leaning on the door. She spots the boxes in my hand, and the pile of boxes behind me and Zach, who's trying his never – failing charm. She glances away, fixating her gaze on me, with only the tell-tale blush remaining.

'You must be my new roomie,' she smiles and steps to the side. 'Come in.'

I enter. It's just like every other dorm room – two beds, two cupboards, two desks. One was clearly occupied, clothes were strewn all over the bed and I watch Zach stifle his laughter as he spots my new roommate flutteringly hide her lingerie from human sight.

She is flush as she completes the task in record time, before turning to me and extending a hand. 'Nice to meet you. I am Brown. Rachel Brown.'

I blink.

She retracts her hand from my grip and shrugs. 'That was Bond. You know, 007?'

I shake my head lamely. I am about to open my mouth when Zach interjects, 'She's Coral Collins, swag as Spongebob. You know, Spongebob Squarepants?'

I glare daggers at him.

Rachel blushes all over again.

'Yeah. Spongebob's cute, I think. But I am more into guns, bombs, chilling car chases and thrillers.' She forms a gun with her fingers, pointing it at an imaginary enemy. 'I mean seriously, guns are awesome!'

Zach sets down my stuff on my side of the room and dusts his fingers on his pants.

'Okay, Al – uh – Coral. I will swing by tomorrow evening or sorts.' He nods at me and I nod back, resigning myself to my fate. Zach opens the door, before turning around.

'Your gun's in the left corner of that box.' He smirks again, and turns and leaves.

Rachel next to me erupts to laughter. 'That was funny,' she continues, her laughter echoing around the room. She stops when she sees that I didn't join her. Her eyebrows furrow. 'He was kidding about the gun, right?'

'Yup.'

I wish.

/////

Hey. New chapter, right up. 

Chapter dedicated to @SaidieTyler. Thank you. You may not know it, but you are the first person to actually comment and vote on my story.

This means a lot to me.

Thank you.

^^^ That's Rachel up top, btw. Or someone whose photo I stumbled upon Pinterest and went, Yay! That's a cute Rachel.