Curtis was a Perfectionist. In every sense of the word.
He stood staring at his reflection, scrutinizing every feature, every blemish, every fault as he looked for a change. He finally gave up, tossing his hands in frustration. "Watch. I'm going to be the last one changing. Fuck!" He stopped, suddenly worrying that he'd been too loud and that somebody might have heard him. He crossed to the door and checked to make sure it was locked. Again. He'd done it several times in the course of the last hour, but one could never be too sure.
Returning to the mirror, he looked himself over once again. He wasn't a fan of the way he looked, but he liked his eyes--crystal blue and piercing. In fact, they were the only thing he liked about himself. There wasn't a specific reason why, he just...didn't. No matter what he wore, or did to his hair, he just didn't like the person he saw staring back at him. But his eyes? Their stark stare agreed with him as it judged him back. It felt right.
He picked up the flyer he'd brought back to his room and checked it again. Freshman Welcome Social! Games, Refreshments, Prizes! 8:00 PM in Discovery Hall. It looked incredibly lame, but it was an opportunity to maybe meet a new friend or two.
Ha. Like you're good enough to make friends.
Curtis groaned and fell onto his bed. He was alone in his room, and he had already taken the time to set out all of his stuff--each and everything in its perfect place. He glanced over to the empty bed on the opposite wall. Apparently his roommate wasn't scheduled to arrive until tomorrow, and wouldn't he be shocked when he arrived? Curtis hoped his roommate would be nice. Or at least clean and respectful of his belongings.
Who was he kidding? Probably another jokester, not even serious about school. He'd seen enough of his classmates to get a general feel of the student populace, and it wasn't particularly optimistic. But then, didn't that fit him? It's not like he could get into a better school. Everywhere else had rejected him.
And rightfully so.
Curtis was whip-smart, but all it did was give him anxiety in the end. A white kid from Connecticut with well-to-do parents, he'd always been an over-achiever. But over-achieving the over-achievers in your class tends to breed competition instead of friendship. And striving for perfection is a lonely pursuit. Even so, despite his efforts--Future Business Leaders of America, National Honors Society, Boy Scouts of America--Target College after Target College had denied his applications. Hell, he hadn't even gotten into most of his Safety Colleges. It had baffled him, making him depressed and reticent to share the letters with his parents.
They were supportive, but disappointed. He'd shown so much promise as a young boy, taking Spanish Immersion and Accelerated Learning classes. "Gifted" they'd called him.
What a load of bullshit.
Finally, on a whim he'd applied to Claw Valley University. Something about the brochure appealed to him, though he couldn't determine what. At the very least, he could earn some credits, get good grades, and transfer to a college that mattered. Maybe.
You're not good enough. And you never will be.
He got up to check the door again to make sure it was locked. He knew he'd just checked it, but his ADHD made it hard to remember unless he specifically focused on the task. "Door is locked." He repeated to himself. He missed his dog. She helped him to relax, and he would have video called home to see her, but that was apparently now off the table.
The social was going to be starting soon, and he'd better start getting ready if there was any hope of getting his hair to cooperate. It wasn't even that long, but he had a strong cowlick and hated the natural part it gave him. Maybe he'd just buzz it all off and try something new this year. Maybe he'd do that tomorrow before any of his classes started. He had a hard time committing to anything specific because it all felt so overwhelming so agonizingly often.
30 minutes later, with no improvement, he gave up. No matter what he did his dirty blonde hair looked exactly the same. He stared at his eyes again in the mirror, their disappointment palpable. He'd just wear a hat. Ok, he'd have to buy a hat. Tomorrow. Before class. Maybe. It was just a Social. He didn't want to look like he was trying too hard...He didn't want people to KNOW how hard he was trying. He shrugged on his hoodie and walked out the door.
"Door is locked." He checked it again, twice, just to be safe before pulling out the flyer again.
"You're goin' to the Social, huh?" Curtis glanced up in surprise. The guy speaking to him was just a little shorter than him. Thin, with a nice build. Cute, though his yellow eyes were a little surprising. And something about them looked a bit off. He wore a backwards cap over his black hair. And a smile. He cleared his throat when Curtis hadn't responded. "Are ya headed to the Social?"
Curtis gulped and nodded. As an introvert, he generally preferred to be prepared to have the conversation before it started. "Yeah, it looks dumb, but I figured why not?"
The man's grin gave him butterflies, and his natural twang was adorable. He'd known he was gay for a couple of years now, but he was deeply in the closet. He knew his parents would have likely accepted him--they weren't bad parents, just aloof. And his siblings were supportive enough as well. But that was just another thing potentially wrong with him. He had too much to accomplish to let something like that stand in his way.
"Ya know if you want, I'm actually headed to an actual party, if yer interested," the stranger offered, "I could show you where it is. Gonna meet up with some new friends."
With your hair the way it is? You've GOT to be joking.
Curtis considered it for a moment and nodded. "Sure. Yes. Um, mind if I fix my hair real quick?"
"It looks real great the way it is. Come on!" The man clapped him on the shoulder and started urging him down the hall. "The names Ollie, by the way. I'm in 215, across the hall. We're neighbors!"
"Curtis. Thanks, Ollie..." He hesitated, feeling embarrassed and flustered after the casual compliment.
"Look, I can wait if you really need me to. Just hurry, OK? We're already late."
...
"...No. Let's go." He smiled, feeling more eager now. If Ollie thought his hair looked good, then that was enough for him in the moment.
Curtis didn't even notice as the blue in his eyes gave way to a warm, friendly brown.