JASPER

***

Absolute. Fucking. Balls.

I hate that my parents have made me fucking do this this year. My grades are down the toilet, and the chancellor had apparently spoken to Dad, saying if I helped with the year abroad program this week it would look good on my final transcripts.

So what does Dad go and fucking do? Signs me straight up. Without fucking asking. And I don't get any say in the matter. So now I'll have four foreigners in my truck and, even worse, I'll have to be nice. I'm going to be fucking exhausted.

***

The ones I'm picking up are all arriving today. Laura has told us all the goddamn details about four fucking times, so I've just about had it when I get another call from her. And I'm even more bothered that her ringing me woke me up.

I answer it anyway, grunting a 'what', resting the phone on my face as she drones on and on, not acknowledging or saying anything until she's finished her monologuing. When she asks me if I've got all the details I need, I say I don't. She starts to repeat herself again, not getting my sarcasm or my annoyance, so I click end on the call and then I don't answer when she immediately calls me back.

"Ugh fuck off!" I shout to my phone, wanting to lob it across the room.

Laura - a prissy sorority bimbo who has way too much pep for this early on a Saturday morning - is unfortunately the person in charge of me for this whole week-long orientation period. She's rung me twelve times over the last three days, each time telling me the details of the foreigners' flights, and I literally want to throttle her. Each time I wanted to tell her to go fuck herself. But I didn't, and I'm actually quite proud of myself. Instead I just grinned and bore it, grinding my teeth as she continued to harp on and on, time after time, about meeting at the Quad. She said it three times per phone call, and when she was finally done on all of them, I hung up as quickly as possible.

Two minutes later I get a text through. Like fucking clockwork... every fucking time.

Just in case anyone forgets. Getting into Wilmington Airport 2pm. Leave by 1pm sharp to go get them. If anyone has made welcome banners, please bring them! L xx

"Ugh," I do throw my phone across the room this time and slam my head back down on the pillow with a thump.

I hated my life at the moment. Dad basically had me on house arrest, and I wasn't allowed out to see anyone or do anything other than for school. It sucked. It sucked major donkey balls. So picking up these stupid kids was the final straw. I'd do him this favour, then I'm done. I've literally served my time all summer, and I deserved my fucking freedom back.

I'd got into a bit of trouble last year. Some underage drinking and joyriding. Some of my friends did drugs, but I didn't touch that. I saw the error in my ways when my friend Ziggy took things too far, and I tried to sort it. I made a deal with Dad, crashing a car on purpose... and fortunately - or unfortunately - for me, my dad's a cop. Even though he agreed he'd keep me out of trouble, seeing me in the holding cell must have changed his mind. He spoke to his superior and did manage to get mine and Ziggy's charges dropped, but then terms of our 'release' was basically unofficial house arrest, with a promise of being on my best behaviour. I didn't have an anklet or anything, but I was kept under close watch, so I just stayed home, only going out to get groceries. It fucking sucked, but after what we went through I think I kind of did deserve it...

***

I check my watch and I see it's 11am. I have nearly two hours before I have to start thinking about being at college, and I live fifteen minutes from campus, so I had plenty of time for a work out.

Grabbing my phone off the floor on the way out, I head downstairs to the gym. I text Miss Priss back, a 'fine' and then head out the door.

I don't look up or acknowledge my parents as they eat their breakfast. They're sitting together, hand in hand, Dad reading the paper and Mom reading something on her kindle. She looks up at me as I pass, and I hear her sigh, but I ignore her and head down the hall and slam the door. They can pay for my solitude this summer with my cold shoulder.

As I walk over to my only salvation in this house - a punchbag - I channel all my anger into my fist and punch the shit out of it.

I punch and I punch and I punch until my knuckles hurt too much to continue. They're split from all my fights over the last three years, but I kind of like it. I have scar tissue that barely covers the bone on my right thumb where I punched through that car window - the joyriding misdemeanour - but I always punch through the pain as it's my only therapy in a world that seems to be working against me.

Punching is the only therapy that seems to work. My parents knew that. So they bought me this for my solitude; especially as the other option was punching someone rather than something. I used to smoke to help my problems, but now my parents have clamped down on that too, so I'm forced to 'talk' to this punchbag every day. Only our daily conversations usually end with me having busted hands. But, most importantly, they leave me seemingly anger free. Pain is my solace. Since that day nearly three years ago, it's the only thing that is.

But the way it makes people act at school makes me feel better. They keep their distance from me, which is what I like. They steer clear of me and give me a wide berth, and let me get on with my day without much bother. It doesn't keep everyone out, but it keeps enough of the idiots out, allowing me relative peace and quiet while I'm on campus.

"Jasper?" I hear Mom's voice come down the corridor as I exit the gym.

I roll my eyes and groan. "What!" I shout, and I think she flinches. I didn't mean to scare her but my tolerance level is at zero at the moment.

"Please be nice to people today. It's their first day, and I don't want you ruining their experiences on day one."

"They're going to be spoiled little shits anyway. Who the fuck cares?" I had four that had to pile their shit into my truck, and then I had to take them to Walmart to get more shit. It was going to be fucking awful. "They won't give a shit about what I say... so I may as well be my normal self, Mom."

"Jasper!" She scolds me, smacking my shoulder. I do feel bad about my incessant bad language but it kind of goes with the recent persona of rebellious teenager. Even though I'm not actually a teenager anymore.

"Mom!" I warn back, pointing at her.

She crosses her arms and looks venomously at me.

"Okay fine, I promise. I'll be nice. But I'm not promising anything else." Mum starts at me, probably to give me another warning, but I ignore her. She doesn't scare me.

"Please remember that we'd like to see you graduate this year, okay. And this is supposed to help." Her voice breaks, and I can my feel my resolve breaking as she puts a small hand on my shoulder. After a moment, though, I flinch it away and take a step back from her.

It wasn't Mom's fault, it's Dad's. But I still don't apologise. I simply roll my eyes and walk past her, back down to my room.

"This isn't you Jasper. Please remember that."

***

"Okay so Jasper..." I lift my head and roll my eyes at the sound of Miss Priss saying my name. I have a headache from her incessant squeaky and intolerable voice already. I'm sure everyone else does as well.

I ended up falling asleep again before I had to leave, so I barely had time for much of a shower. The others here were all looking at me weirdly, some probably thinking what the hell is he doing here. So the smell coming off me - anger and sweat - probably isn't the greatest combination for meeting our newcomers. But so fucking what.

"Which ones am I getting again?" I ask, an air annoyance sending sparks up my spine. Ethan, Mr Water Polo Guy, is staring me up and down. I'd love to just knock him to the floor, but instead I give Laura the fakest smile I can manage and hold out my hand for the list. She hands it to me, and it has four pictures of four annoying-looking shits who I'll no longer need to worry about tomorrow. Thank fuck.

Jason, Hamish, Stephanie and Amir. Ugh, I still can't fucking believe I have to do this.

"Now guys, please remember to be nice. We are trying to make these guys feel as at home as possible here, so yeah. Answer any questions they may have, as I'm sure they'll have plenty, and don't make fun of them." She glances at me and I immediately take offence.

"Why did you look at me when you fucking said that?" I step closer to her and she takes a step backwards, putting her clipboard up as some means of protection.

"I didn't," she squeaks. "I was looking around the circle." She wasn't, but I decide that seeing her cower behind her probably-super-organised clipboard was entertainment enough.

"Whatever," I say under my breath, pushing past Ethan, deliberately knocking his shoulder hard with mine as I make my way back to my truck.

"Jasper! Where are you going?" Laura shouts after me.

"Airport!" I yell back almost at my truck and away from her screeching noise.

"You haven't got your sign!" She starts running after me but absolutely fuck that. I start the engine as soon as I shut the door and I turn as fast as I can, making sure she can't fling the fucking thing in my trunk. The kids are lucky I'm even picking them up at all... so they're not getting a sign. 

***

I get there first and the parking lot isn't that busy. It's about fifteen minutes before their flight lands, but to be honest I don't mind being a little bit early.

On the drive over it had started hammering it down with rain, like properly hammering it down, and it makes me smile. I like the rain. And as I get out, droplets hit my forehead and my head, washing the knots from my shaggy, unbrushed hair, and I find myself feeling calmer by the time I get to the airport concourse.

I head to the window, one where you can watch the planes land, and I just stand and wait.

Sure enough, a plane appears after ten minutes and it makes that soft slapping sound as it bounces twice on its back wheels, then touches down properly on its third, coming to a stop at the other end of the runway. I watch it the whole time as it taxis and finally comes to a stop about a two-minute walk from the building. They'll have to walk in the rain, which they should be used to given they're from a rainy country, and sure enough a bunch of people make the decision to dash for it. I can tell the locals from the foreigners, and it makes me laugh that they've completely missed that there's actually a closer entrance.

Behind me, I hear the faint sound of Laura's annoying voice come from and I groan, closing my eyes to try and block her out. I don't think she can see me, but I can hear her talking about lining up their signs. But I'm apparently not safe because I hear her calling me over. I open my eyes just in time to watch our new arrivals, and something catches my attention. Or rather someone.

One of the group, who had sprinted out first, had slowed to almost a complete stop. She was quite far away still, so I couldn't quite see properly, but it looks like she lifts her head to heavens and I find myself smiling. If I was them, I'd be doing the same thing. There's something cleansing about rain, and North Carolina rainstorms are second to none.

As she moves again, looking like she'd been urged on by a person holding a hoodie over their head, I hear a chorus of laughter, loud shouts and complaints about the weather ring out over near the baggage carousel.

"Jasper!" Miss Prissy calls again, so I groan and turn around to walk towards them. She's probably got my sign but there's no fucking way in hell I'm holding it. The four people I'm picking up will just have to work it out.

***

After another ten minutes, the group start to filter out with their bags. But I'm looking for the girl that bears the most resemblance to the one that stopped in the rain, but I can't see her.

Not until the last minute.

"Hey guys!" Laura squeals to them, standing next to me and putting a hand on my shoulder. I flinch her away sharply and go to stand on the other side of the circle.

And that's when I see her, hidden behind a girl with wild frizzy hair.

"How was your flight?" Laura asks the ones that come tentatively towards us. Whoever she is remains at the back, and my eyes don't leave her the whole time. Her blue eyes are bright and her smile is small but evident, and all I can think is that she's utterly beautiful. Her beauty flummoxes me and I can't even begin to describe how I start to feel.

"Long." "Delayed." "Bumpy." I hear a few answers through my haze.

"Cool... well welcome to Wilmington!" Laura shouts over the noise. "So each of your leaders - myself, Ethan, Deanne, Kevin and Jasper - will take you to the college, get your stuff dropped off at your dorms, and then we'll take you to the stores to grab some groceries and supplies and stuff, like bedding."

I left the sheet she'd given me in the truck, and I can't remember the names I'm picking up, so I'm hoping Laura will read them out.

I'm the last group she reads out, and a mismatch group of four scared-looking people come over to me. Hamish looks annoying, like he's going to try and lecture me on what I drive or something. Amir looks like he's about to shit his pants. Jason looks as though he's Ethan's mini-me and then Stephanie, who immediately asks I call her Steph, looks at me like a piece of meat, looking me up and down. I roll my eyes and cross my arms, hopefully discouraging the plethora of fucking stupid questions they no doubt all have.

"You don't look American," Jason jokes at me. I'm wearing all black today, compared to the colourful tye-dye UNCW shirts my counterparts are wearing.

"What's an American supposed to look like sadsack," I bite back. He looks shocked and I try to repress my smile. He doesn't say anything else as he gives Hamish a wary look.

We're about to move away towards the exit when I notice a lone figure come into view as Jason moves.

"Oh... Erm excuse me?" There's a small voice behind us directed at Laura. "You haven't read out my name."

I turn back and see the girl who'd stopped in the rain behind us. I'd tried to keep a track of her, but in the commotion of people moving towards their group leaders I'd lost her.

Laura panics, checking her clipboard. But before she can ask if anyone would like volunteer to take her, I feel my arm raise.

The look on Laura's face is definitely shocked, and to be honest I'm quite shocked at myself. The girl, Steph, starts bouncing up and down so I'm guessing she's a friend Steph's made on the plane. The girl's cheeks have gone a soft shade of pink as she hikes up her backpack. Her blue eyes seem to glow as she looks at me, and I feel heat spread through me.

"Thank you," she chimes, smiling.

And for the first time in what feels like months, years maybe, a genuine smile smooths across my face.