“God damnit.” Gordon Lanrezac hissed for the ninth time.<br/><br/>Not as bad as what some of the other students said to him as he shuffled down the hallway, reading the door numbers while trying to juggle the large amount of belongings he heaved with him. Strapped over his shoulder and around his chest was his sports bag, containing the vast panoply of gear he needed for hockey. His shin and shoulder pads, his chest piece, leggings, gloves, helmet, his protector cup for down there, all in the larger bag. Around his neck dangled his two skates, the blades sharped, latched about his neck by the laces. In his left hand he dragged his regular suitcase, containing all his normal clothes. In his right hand, two hockey sticks, flipped vertically, using the flat tops like a walking stick to help keep himself balanced. It was just today, the moving in phase, that would be difficult. And of course going to and fro practice every morning.<br/><br/>The hall was crowded with students seeking their rooms or just idling to chat and hang out. Sometimes his larger sports bag would bump one and they would give an angry look or chiding rebuke. Most often they consented to looking the other way at a quick apology from Gordie. He wasn’t the only one heaving big bags and luggage into the dorm. Some were beyond that and received a most pleasant fuck you, plug from the Canadian international student.<br/><br/>He was pleasantly surprised to be put in Co-ED dorms for this year’s first semester. Room 107 that was the spot. He read the other name on the listing, one Lillian O’Donnel. A girl? Well that was going to be amusing. Who was going to be tripping over who’s things, her over his skates and hockey gear or him over her…stuff. In any case, he was first to the room and had first pick of either bunk. He chose the one furthest from the wall, where he let out very audible sighs of relief as he dumped the bag, the sticks, the suitcase, and his skates on the bed. He took a moment to stretch his limbs too, feeling a few cracks, and knowing it had been a few days since he last been to a gym. He would need to rectify that. Coach would be expectant of him, being a defensemen for the Miami Beach college hockey team.<br/><br/>Like, why else was he here, if not for the scholarship offered? He could pursue a major in Sports Management anywhere. Looking out the window, he eyed the distant beach and thought how it was vastly different from the beaches on the west coast. “I need some beer.” He decided quite frankly, to no one in particular. But wait, wasn’t there some sort of orientation for new and returning students today?