"First Encounters"
Wednesday, April 14th.
2:00 P.M.
“Shhhff. Shhhhff.”
“Shhffffff- shuk.”
The sound of boxes echoed up the carpeted staircase of the Phillips’ dormitory.
This was Otto’s second year and second semester attending Michigan State, but he had attended online classes; family life and a job latched onto him tight during his freshman year.
Otto Octavius- a bright spot among musty, newly-declared men butting heads at the pool table downstairs in the recreation room. He was quite the character; a hopeless romantic with an acquired literary taste, thumbing through every book he could, writing poetry and painting on his down time. Still, unnoticed, at that.
‘Mom can be proud of me for graduating after she’s proud of me for lifting all of this up three flights of stairs.’ Otto thought to himself.
The gentle giant set his first, rather tall box by the door to his dorm room, 308.
Another box came up a minute later with a set of burly arms, dark curly hairs painting them tanner than the copper skin underneath. “Y’all set, kid? You know your mother is waiting for you downstairs.”
Ah, Maverick “Mack” Octavius. 54 years old, Harvard drop-out with too many achievements holding his tainted name up in that school board. He was roughly half a foot under Otto, with deep, acacia-colored skin and oak freckles along his shoulders. He wore wrinkles along his smile, lopsided and asymmetrical in a handsome way.
“Yes sir, I just need to get my room- hmph- keys from the secretary.” The younger of the two Octavius’ name-holders replied, resting the smaller box of the two on top.
Otto seemed stout, but in an odd manner, as he stood above his father, pacing after to the end of the hall. He was tall- roughly 6’2”, but he wasn’t lanky in the same way most tall guys were. He had a plush form, but no feature was prominently weighty or obtuse from his frame. His chest was broad, but his shoulders slumped, which was just another trophy from his studies.
“Otter!” A honey-sweet, hoarse voice called.
Juliana “Julie” Octavius. She was a sight to behold- aging far too quickly compared to other mothers that helped load their kids-to-adults into their dorm rooms. Julie was a homebody, an excellent cook, and a booksmarts woman. Maverick took pride in marrying Julie; she was a great damper on his fiery temper, and a remarkable mother to Otto. Only a high school graduate, with little to spare but a sweet smile and a good set of manners.
“Hi, Ma.” Otto greeted sheepishly as a pair of arms snaked around his soft waist.
Julie’s bony figure wrapped around Otto’s middle with a whole, homebody smile against his chest. Maverick’s rocky fingertips kneaded into the embraced figure.
“We are so proud of you, young man,” Julie crooned.
“You got the family name cryin’ happy tears, Otter.” Maverick interjected, joining the hug.
Otto’s pride grew every second, palpitating like the emotionally stricken heartbeat thumping against his sweater vest, “Thank you…” he trailed off, smiling down at his parents in delight.
Sure, it was a little strung-out, but it was all honest emotion, expressed honestly.
‘I really better not cry in front of these frat guys..’ The younger Octavius worried.
A long hug later, they all disbanded from each other’s arms; a signal it was time for the parents to be on their way. Otto’s eyes welled up with tears, but only for a moment. He couldn’t let his heart’s firm grip on family keep him from his soon-to-be bedroom oasis.
-
3:57 P.M.
Otto looked down at the floor, content with himself for sweeping and placing the mat his mother sent him off with that read, “Come on in, we don’t bite!”. His cheesy smile spoke for itself- he couldn’t help but enjoy those shitty, Five Below off-brand mom quotes smacked on the most random items. He decided it would be the one thing he uses to decorate for today- Otto refused to decorate first when his supposed roommate wasn’t here to deliver approval.
Begging to differ with Otto’s decision, his suitcase of clothes and hygiene products sat on the floor, almost smack-dab in the middle of the room. The bunk bed the dormitory assigned their room with sat in the back right corner, covering part of the window.
‘Uck. No thank you.’ Otto thought, frowning at the brash furniture arrangement.
A spot between the wall to his left against the insulted window wall and the grossly misplaced bed pinged a thought in Otto’s head, ‘Ah, I’ll have my desk right there when it’s ordered, courtesy of the roommate of course..’, and he clasped his hands together, letting out a huff.
A low rumble from Otto’s stomach emitted at a low volume, only enough for him to physically feel in his torso. Just as it grew louder, it came to a halt, like the stomach’s metaphorical jaw had been snapped shut.
A shackling noise came from the doorknob, making for a challenge to open before it gave way.
The man wrestling with the door knob came through unannounced, looking bewildered. He let out a snitty huff before brushing himself off- my, he was quite a sight to behold in a house full of graduated teenage men. A suit, and an ironed tie!
“Hey, sorry about that. The door wanted to tussle, I guess.” The well-dressed man spoke.
Otto stared at him like a dog would at a squeaky toy, squawking away. He had barely processed the joke the guy made, and he was…stunning. No! Stunned- he meant stunned.
Blinking his eyes with determination to rid the distraction from his thoughts, he proceeded forward a step and held out his hand, “Hello, my name’s Octavius, Otto Octavius.”
“Norman Osborn. Should I call you James Bond? That introduction was great.” Norman chuckled.
His freckles spanned across his cheeks, some disappearing under the creases below his eyes as he smiled. It was like watching fish in clear water get swallowed by a wave, how perfect it was. Could this Norman Osborn see the red flowing to his cheeks underneath Otto’s eyes? Would he notice the name brand polo vest he was wearing today, would he know it was only because today was the special moving day? Did he see the cheesy floor mat and laugh? Was it because it was funny, was it because it was just a cheap little white mother’s facebook quote?
Norman Osborn, only 19. He was less studious than expected for a student at MSU, but incredibly smart- genius, even. A slacker and a competitive drinker at frat parties, a member of Kappa Sigma as a freshman at MSU. His father paid in part for his tuition, and, with being a holder of a well-known last name, he got into MSU easily. On the shorter side, a nearly strawberry blonde head of hair with faint freckles peppering his face and neck, lean and muscular. Osborn is only talkative when he decides he wants to be.
“Hello?” Norman impeded the distraught man’s thoughts, snapping him out of his daze.
“Oh- Yes, I- I uh, I’m sorry, I blanked. What did you say?” He stammered.
“I was wondering if you’re taking top or bottom.” Norman pointed subtly to the beds behind Otto, but it didn’t register.
“W-What?”
“Which bed are you taking, Octavius?” Norman sought.
“Oh! Yes. I’ll take the bottom one, if that’s alright.” Otto nodded back and gave an insecure smile, the right corner of his mouth hooked up, quivering. It was as if somebody was puppeteering his lips on ice skates.
“Sounds good to me.”
Both men scuttled back to their respective corners of the room; Otto by the beds, Norman by the closet.
Norman went ahead and unpacked his roller case into the closet before asking, although Otto needn’t a closet anyways- he didn’t have that much of a wardrobe, and he wasn’t ready to be stuck in a closet physically when he was already- well, anywho.
Even despite the fact he would have insisted Norman Osborn choose what territory was his in the dormitory first, Otto almost felt offense building in his chest as he sat and rummaged through his own things, sneaking glances full of curiosity at the preppy figure across the room. Norman just went for it without asking, and to Otto, that reeked entitlement.
He hoped, deep down, that he would make peace in this tiny environment with this questionably up-front student.
At least he has his studies if social life fails him.