College

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height


MITCHELL

I met Nash for the first time freshman year of college. He'd been assigned as my roommate and little did I know that it was the beginning of the most important relationship in my life... at least so far. At that time, the college paired athletes with each other, and usually, students from the same sport shared a dorm. We, as part of the hockey team, and most of the other athletes, moved into the dorms a week ahead of everyone else. The campus was busy but nothing compared to what it was when the rest of the students arrived on the regular move-in day a week later.

Nash's loud laughter could usually be heard down the hall and move-in day for us was no different. I'll never forget the first time I walked into that dorm. I'd been on the road for hours, driving myself to school in my old beat-up Chevy pickup truck. My nerves were shot and I was stressing big time even though I tried to play it off like I was as calm as anything. Like going off to college on my own was something I did every day. I mean even if I didn't want to do it on my own, it wasn't like anyone in my family wanted to help. Hell, they didn't understand or even approve of me going to college, or care about my dream to make it to the UAHL.

Normal parents were proud that their children went off to college, and shared in the excitement on move-in day. It was usually a big deal that was celebrated. And in Michigan, being good at hockey and getting a full ride to University of Michigan because of it, was a big deal. Just not in my house.

"Trying to be something your not. Thinking you are too good for us," was my dad's constant comments. He was a blue-collar worker and always had been. When I was little he'd owned his plumbing service but the business fell apart after my mom left, and so did our lives. Nothing was ever the same after that. I learned pretty quickly, and not the easy way, that it was better to just ignore the hurtful words than to question them.

"Hey man," the guy who I now know was Nash, greeted me as I peeked around the corner into the open room. He stood in the middle of the floor of the small dorm room with a middle-aged couple behind him. The man looked so much like him that they had to be father and son.

I cleared my throat after having been quiet all day and responded with a cool "hey."

"Are you Mitchell?" he asked as he looked me over. I did the same to him, taking in his smiling face, the green eyes, dark hair, athletic body, recognizing we were about the same size so when I fully entered the room our eyes were at the same level.

It was just something about him that instantly made me feel comfortable. He had that carefree, relaxed, all-inclusive attitude that came from stability and knowing yourself. I really hoped that I'd be able to accomplish that one day.

"Yes. Are you Nash?"

"I am," he responded with his now-famous smirk. "These are my parents, Liz and Howard," he continued and gestured to the couple behind him.

I shook their hands formally after placing my large duffle bag on the warn gray linoleum floor.

"Are your parents downstairs?" Mrs. Reed asked me. I caught her glancing out into the hallway as she expected my parents to appear with their arms full of my stuff as normal parents would.

Even though I knew that question would come up and I had practiced an answer over and over during the five-hour car ride, it still caught me off guard. But the reality was that nobody cared enough to come with me. How freaking sad was that? Not that I wasn't used to it because I was. I had learned to do everything on my own, but still... who goes to move into college by themselves? Actually, that's not true. My high school hockey coach had offered to go with me under the excuse that he'd like to check out the facility and talk to the coaching staff, but I knew he just felt bad for me, and if it was one thing I didn't want it was pity. I'd managed to take care of myself this far, and I would manage college too, so I'd told him I wanted to do it on my own.

I settled for the short answer: "no, I'm by myself."

I didn't miss the surprised look Nash's parents exchanged even though I turned away in an attempt to avoid it. 

"Oh shit. Where's the rest of your stuff?" Nash asked and looked down at the lonely bag on the right side of the room which I assumed was mine since the left side was already full of boxes and bags. There were already sheets and blankets in the blue and yellow school colors and stacks of clothes on top of the bed.

"In my truck."

"I'll help you get it," he offered.

"That's alright. You don't have..." I didn't even get to finish the sentence because Nash had already walked out of the dorm room and clearly expected me to follow, which I did.

Nash made small talk the entire time, down the hallway, in the elevator, and through the parking lot on the way to my truck. He told me about his brother, some of the other hockey players he'd met on campus earlier, and about some party he'd been invited to. Him talking was comforting and it made me relax. I was very pleased to see that he seemed like someone I'd be able to get along well with. 

All the closest parking spots had been taken so I had to park in the lot across the street but that didn't discourage Nash. He grabbed the large plastic container off the bed of my truck where I had packed all my bedding, towels, toiletries, books, and shoes and carried it the entire way back upstairs without a complaint. That was the first time I realized that he was something else. Not only was the bin large and difficult to carry but it was heavy too.

It didn't take more than one hockey practice for me to realize that my roommate, Nash Reed, was one of the players that was actually going to make it all the way to the UAHL. His determination and ability to accomplish things on the ice was something most other players just dreamed of, but to him, it appeared to be natural.  

"So you're a hockey player too," Nash's father commented when I dropped my large hockey trunk with all the gear onto what was going to be my bed over the next school year.

"Yeah." I looked over at Nash. I had expected him to be an athlete but I wasn't sure if it was hockey or football. "You too, right?"

"Mhm. The only reason I'm here."

And that simple answer gave me hope. It was the only reason I was there too. I remember feeling that maybe this whole college thing would work out despite all the harsh words I'd heard from my family. Nash seemed like a cool guy and we were getting along fine. Not only would he be my roommate, but he was going to be my teammate too.

I had lived and breathed hockey over the last couple of years. Every opportunity I had to be on the ice I'd taken. In the beginning, it had been more of a spite to my dad but as the coaching staff recognized that I was actually good at it, I had begun to dream...

My high school hockey coach was the sole reason I was even in college. Not only had he always encouraged me, but he'd also allowed me early access to the training facilities in exchange for me helping with the younger kids. In addition, he'd done everything he could to help me get ready for the college level, including helping with all the college applications, acting like a supporter, and a coach. He was the reason that the University of Michigan gave me a scholarship big enough that I'd only have a small loan once I graduated.

"What position do you play?" Mr. Reed asked after we all began to unpack and put away our things.

"Defense."

"You have the size for it," he chuckled as he looked me over.

I felt my eyebrow raise in surprise and could help but laugh. Nash was the same size as me.

"I know," Nash grinned from where he stood over by his dresser clearly thinking the same thing "but I'm a center."

"Oh." I would've definitely taken him for a defensive player, but I also knew that there were some really awesome forwards that were on the bigger side. Nash proved later on that he knew exactly how to use his size to his advantage...

"I wasn't always this tall," Nash continued as an explanation as to why he wasn't the defensive player most people probably assumed he was.

"I sure hope not," I joked and looked over at his parents. They laughed.

I zippered the empty duffel bag shut and put it to the side as I reached for the large plastic container.

"Nash always wanted to be big and tall like his older brother Isaac when they were little," Mrs. Reed explained. "It didn't take very long until he was taller. Sophomore year of high school maybe?"

Nash nodded. "I was quick and small when I started to play and better at getting the puck in the net than the others so that was how I became a center."

"I think you were one of the only ones that got the puck even close to the net," his dad said with a chuckle.

"You all looked so cute," Mrs. Reed commented with a smile. "Those big helmets made you look like little bobbleheads."

I laughed knowing exactly what she was talking about.

"Yeah. Some of the kids couldn't even hold the stick and skate at the same time. Or like Larry, he couldn't even skate."

"That's why he became a goalie," Nash said to his father as he casually emptied the rest of the items from his suitcase onto the bed.

"I think I was just good at being in the way." I tried to explain how I started to play defense. "I was a chunky kid and not that fast." It may have had something to do with the fact that I had to use my brother's old skates which were two sizes too big. Once I grew into them and got used to the ice my speed increased and I could easily keep up with the opposite team's offense.

"Well, you're certainly not chunky now," Mrs. Reed commented with a sincere smile. "You look to be in excellent physical shape."

I know my cheeks turned red in embarrassment. I'd worked really hard to get to the point where my body was ready for college hockey and that included running every morning, skating at every opportunity I had, and lifting weights in the evening once I finished my janitorial job. I just wasn't used to anyone noticing, or at least not commenting on it. Maybe except for Angela, my high school girlfriend. She had noticed the changes in my body but it still didn't stop her from dumping me once the high school quarterback showed her some attention.

"I'm really looking forward to watching you both play hockey this year," Mr. Reed said and slapped his hand down on Nash's shoulder. "From what I hear it's a good team and you got a good shot at winning."

"If we ever get to play...." As freshmen, we were more likely to get a spot on the bench than a place on the ice.

"We'll play," Nash said confidently and raised his fist to mine. It only took me a second to raise mine to meet his. "And if we don't get an immediate spot we'll work harder and add extra practices until we do."

"Deal," I agreed, as I thought that getting this guy as my roommate was like winning the lottery.

And that was what we did. Nash and I added our own practices twice a week. We worked harder than anyone on that team and by the end of the season, we were both permanent members of the first string.

We finished unpacking our bags pretty quickly. Nash's parents told me stories from Nash's childhood and about his brother who was also away at college. It didn't take very long for us to organize the dorm room. Nash had a good head start but he also had a lot more stuff than I did. My side looked pretty bland. Boring even. Everything was tucked away and the only thing that added some color to my side of the room was the dark blue sheet and comforter set I had found on sale at a store that was going out of business.

Nash had brought an extra dresser that he stored under his bed for just his workout clothes. He had several sets of towels and a whole bin full of snacks. A large fan was on top of his desk, and he had some personal pictures up. Looking at his side made me wonder if I had enough stuff, and how I'd manage to buy more with the amount of money I had in my savings?

I had worked hard over the summer to save up for college, but most of that money had already been spent on the meal plan, books, and a new pair of skates. It wasn't like I'd be able to hold a job on top of playing hockey and attending college. It turned out not to be a concern. Nash shared all of his things with me, and while I'd been a bit reluctant at first to eat his snacks or borrow his clothes, it didn't take long until I was comfortable with it. I contributed what I could, and he got the rest.

Nash's parents had insisted that I go out to dinner with them that first evening. I declined initially, feeling like I was intruding on family time, but Mrs. Reed was a very persistent woman, and she was adamant that she wanted to get to know Nash's roommate. I ended up going along and we had a nice time. The food was great and the conversation flowed easily, but the whole experience was still bittersweet. Nash's parents were wonderful, but it reminded me of just how alone I was and what I'd been missing out on over the last ten years of my life.

Going out to dinner as a family was something we'd never done. Hell, even a home-cooked meal was a rarity. At least until my brother met his girlfriend in high school. It didn't take long until she moved in with us and then there were occasional pasta nights, or some kind of hamburger helper, but that was the extent of it. I spent most of middle school surviving on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

My life changed drastically that first semester of college. Mostly thanks to Nash and his parents. They always included me in everything and made me feel like I was a part of their family, instead of some stranger. For the first time in my life, there was more than just hope for a happy future, there was contentment with the present.

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net