Morning came crashing in swiftly.
The persistent cry of the alarm clock was a dutiful reminder that a new day was abound. It was awful to wake up to another cold, winter morning. Quite frankly, it was akin to being stuck in the grey doldrums: always depressed and yearning to escape. It was light outside simply because that's how the science of light worked. The sun's rays did nothing of the sort to warm the earth or take away the snow. Natural light did not always equal heat and he knew that now.
Aden heaved his limber body out of bed. Each night, sleep was becoming a little bit easier to come by. The first night, the mattress was so stale and rigid he woke up with a sore back. Today he felt slightly more rested as he switched the alarm off and stretched his back. The day he learned how to dress for winter (no flat shoes without grips on ice) he learned how to master a mattress that was, for the most part, unforgiving.
His feet shuffled on the cool tile as he begrudgingly started his morning routine. He spotted his roommate on the other side of their cracker box dorm room splayed out on the mattress in an almost anguish fashion. The comforter was twisted around his legs, his mouth was agape, and his arms and legs were bent in an uncomfortable manner. Yet, he slept soundly and didn't stir once as Aden grabbed a towel, shower caddy, and slipped out of the room. As a courtesy, he made sure the door didn't slam shut behind him as they commonly do.
In the early morning hours there was no life to be had. Not on this floor of the dormitory, anyway. The hall was a sterile yellow color and as quiet as a tomb.
Aden moseyed along with the shower towel over his shoulder and caddy by his side. He turned right at the elevators and made another immediate right into the communal bathroom. He wasn't a germaphobic or anything of the sort, but he did wonder how many germs festered in a bathroom shared by a dozen other guys. Sure, there was the regular cleaning guy, but he was old, retired and didn't put much effort into cleaning the place. If anything he was just mopping the dirt around more.
Nobody else was in the bathroom. Aden was thankful for that. He liked the shower stall at the very end the most. It had the warmest water and the best pressure. This was where he stopped and shimmied out of his shirt and Calvin's. He let the water run for a full sixty seconds before stepping in and even then it was still lukewarm.
Aden never stayed long in the shower. It wasn't like home where the force of the shower had a wonderful waterfall effect that was almost therapeutic. The showers here were either a light sprinkle or had the force of a fire hose, which hurt. The one at the end – his favorite –was the only compromise. Still, he only lingered long enough to shampoo, lather with body wash, rinse and leave.
As he cranked the water off, he heard the water of another shower stall turn on. He wrapped the towel firmly around his waist and glanced down to his right. Three or four shower stalls away was a black guy. Aden wasn't very good at names, but he did remember Ryan's, as he was the only African American on the floor. And, of course, he remembered Scott, his roommate.
Ryan was standing outside the stall – doing the same thing Aden did – testing the water temperature. He must have heard or sensed Aden's presence, because he turned and smiled. "G'morning, Aden."
"How's everything, Ryan?"
"It'd be a lot better if the showers had fucking hot water."
Aden opened his mouth and then closed it on a childish impulse. He was on the verge of offering the last shower stall, but thought better of it – wanting to keep it his secret. Instead he offered sentiments, "Yeah, I know what you mean."
During the short exchange, Aden kept his eyes averted up. Ryan was perfectly naked, which Aden reasoned, he had every right to be. "Well, better luck," Aden said lamely and returned to his room.
***
Scott insisted on joining Aden for breakfast. Not that Aden would oppose, he liked Scott and enjoyed his company, however this morning he did have to wait as Scott scrambled to get ready. He slept in, once again, and by insisting on walking with Aden, he was consequently holding Aden up. Every student knows, the earlier you are to breakfast the fresher the food is.
Aden kept making suggestions ("I'll meet you there") but Scott would frown and respond, "I'll only be another minute, jeez!" Another minute turned into two, which turned into ten.
Eventually, they rode down in silence. Or at least Aden did. He was irritable, hungry, and still cold. Scott leaned up against the elevator walls in his Highland University Soccer sweats, cursing at the early morning hours.
The doors binged open and Scott scooted out first, followed by Aden.
"Why, if it isn't the soccer twins," the old lady at the front desk cooed. She reminded Aden a great deal of the Oracle from The Matrix movies. She looked like her, sounded like her, and was wise like her. And because most of the students were away from home, she served as a surrogate grandmother to a lot of people. She also wasn't the first to infer that Aden and Scott were twins. They had the same soccer-player physique, similar blonde hair, and they were always seen together, but in a lot of ways they were still different.
