Since the incident in the cafeteria, Evan has started following me everywhere, not leaving any of his classes until I get there to escort him to his next class. He's given me a copy of his timetable to make it easier, but it's still quite inconvenient. Even though it gets tiring walking across the entire campus to find him multiple times a day, the smile on his face when I get there makes up for it.
Evan's lived with me for two weeks now, and I think I've managed to learn a little bit about him. He loves video games, cartoons, and anime, and hates socialising, public speaking, and modern music. I know that he always wakes up at a particular time, that he always does his homework immediately after it's handed out, and that he's unbelievably shy.
I only share one class with Evan, which is Game Design. I've been passionate about computers ever since I first used one and now dream of making games for a living. I always loved the idea of combining my favourite hobby with my obsession for technology. Game Design is the only subject that I give my full attention to, as nothing else is necessary for the job that I want. I have no problem with the coding and planning aspects of the course, the only thing that I struggle with is designing the characters and the landscape, and that's why I'm so happy that Evan's in my class. He's by far the best artist I've met, despite the fact that he denies my praise without fail.
I used to sit alone in the corner of the room to make it easier to concentrate, as most people in here don't take it seriously, who only signed up for the course because they thought that it'd be easy and that they'd get to play games all the time. At least now that Evan sits next to me, I can ask for help instead of struggling to figure out the answer by myself. He's not the most talkative person I've ever met, but I enjoy the company.
I look over and see Evan studying a 3D model of a Medieval fighter, wielding a two handed sword and wearing heavy armour. The shading makes it look almost too realistic, each hair on his head is detailed and perfect. Evan stares at it intensely while running simulations, testing if it can move without glitching and if the coding is correct.
"Did you make that yourself?" He looks at me a little startled, dropping the pen that he was using to take notes.
"Yeah... I did. Do you like it?"
"It's incredible!" Evan Smiles proudly and looks back at his work. Our teacher, Mr Malcolm, told us to design a character and give it simple movement, like running, jumping and sprinting, but I haven't even started mine yet.
"Can you help me with mine? I've never been good with designing."
"Only if you help me with the coding, I always end up typing something wrong."
"Deal." We shake hands and return to our work; maybe I won't fail after all. The bell rings, and everyone starts to file out of the room.
"Don't forget about your projects! I need them back in three weeks!" Mr Malcolm shouts after us, even though everyone has already left. Evan packs away his notebook and pen, logging off his computer and waiting for me to do the same. I don't have any more classes until Monday, so Evan and I usually just go back to our room until his last class starts in an hour.
I unlock the door and run to my bed, sighing as the familiar smell of Doritos and coffee fills my nose. Evan sits down at his desk and takes out a large notebook, checking his watch before writing with impressive speed.
"Oh, I just remembered, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."
"What it is?" Evan turns around in his seat to face me, closing his notebook.
"Why did you transfer? I mean, it's almost the end of the school year, why not just stay at your old college until September, then move here?"
Evan sighs and stares at the ground. "At my old college, there were a lot of people who didn't like me very much. People called me weird, they kept pushing me and hitting me. They stole things from me and laughed in my face when I asked for them back."
"Why would they hurt you just because they thought you were weird?"
"They thought that it was funny. But it wasn't- it really wasn't."
"I'm sorry that that happened to you, man."
"You don't need to be sorry. It wasn't you who was bullying me."
"I guess you're right. But you don't have to worry anymore. As long as I'm around, anyone who says anything bad about you will get a fist to the face."
Evan laughs and turns around to face his work. "Thanks, I appreciate it." And I mean every word of what I said. It's almost as if I've mentally adopted him, and that he's my responsibility to take care of and keep safe. And I swear, as long as he's my roommate, he'll get through college without a scratch.
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