MANNY POV

Emmanuel Watkins hated school. If it was not for his parents demanding he attend college, he wouldn't have.

Not that he made bad grades, he made good grades, but he always felt it was a waste. He already knew what he wanted to do and that was to be a singer. He did not need a degree to do that.

He needed to be in the right place at the right time. In college, he had to focus on passing tests and writing papers. Getting along with a roommate he did not know or even want to know and obey whatever some pimply-faced RA said to him.

His freshman year he hung on by the skin of his teeth. The only high point was joining the Gospel Choir and getting mostly all the solos. He had the voice, there was no denying it.

But he wanted to sing more than just gospel.

He needed a break, that's all. No one knocked down his door to sign him, so back to school he was.

Same dorm, different roommate. Since he had not made any friends last year, and his parents were not willing to pay for a single, he had to get whatever random roommate was assigned to him. Last year. Tommy Get-High-All-Day Morgan was his roommate. Their room smelled like Snoop Dog's cave 24/7. He shaved his pubes sitting on his bed and left the clippings on the floor for days. He took a shower maybe once a week and was a white boy with dread locs and bad body odor.

There was no way he would get a worse roommate.

His parents left after they helped him move in his things. His mother helped him put things away and get the place situated while his father went on about staying focused and being a good little Christian. His father was a pastor at their church and any time was the right time for a sermon to his only child.

His mother did wonders to the small, traditional-style dorm room. That meant two small twin-sized beds, two hard, wooden desks with chairs, two small closets, and a small sink with a mirror above it. His side of the room was loaded with things, and he hoped his roommate did not mind that he brought his TV down.

Shortly after his parents left, while he relaxed and watched TikTok videos, his new roommate arrived. One look at him he knew he was an improvement. He was more similar to him. He could pass for his brother. Roughly the same height and caramel complexion, while Manny wore his hair a little low, his roommate had a bushy, curly afro in need of a shape up.

Manny dressed in a blue polo-style shirt and khaki slacks and all-black Nikes. His roommate dressed in a white t-shirt, khakis, and all-black Nikes. He hoped they had more in common.

His roommate had two large bags, one he carried over his shoulder, the other a camping-style bag strapped to his back. He dropped the shoulder bag to the floor and tossed the other bag on the bed. He must have more things than that.

"Yo, what's up my man," the guy stated to him, coming over to him sitting on his bed, and gave him a hand dap.

"I'm Manny Watkins."

"Yo, I know, I saw you around last year, but you ain't hang with the bruhs...nothing wrong with that."

He was referencing the fact that he did not make any friends last year and never hung out with any of the other Black students on campus. Sure there were lots of clubs and organizations he could have joined, lots of parties, and even floor mates he could have hung with. He only hung with them during Gospel Choir practice, and even then he was not very sociable. He sat by himself in the cafeteria attached to their residence hall, or he grabbed food and ate back at the floor's common room, but never his room, it was filthy enough thanks to his roommate.

"I didn't hang with anybody last year, outside of performing with the choir and-"

"That's right, you can sang! That's what's up." He sat on his bed and started to open the larger bag. "I do a little something-something too...not sing, I dance a bit."

He nodded at him, watching him pull out sheets that were bare-thin and a pillow that had seen better days.

"You have more things you need to go get? I'll help."

"No, this is it."

"Did your parents bring you down?"

"Naw, moms ain't into this college thing, she could care less if I'm here or not. I took the Amtrak train and walked through campus to the dorm, it's cool. Could have been worse if there wasn't a train stop right on campus."

Only two bags? That was all the belongings that were supposed to last him all school year? His parents loaded their minivan with his things, plus he had lots of things in his Toyota Prius. From nice bedding, and extra bedding, to nice hotel-plush towels, enough clothes that it spilled from his closet and dresser. He had to get a storage locker to put more things in.

His hygiene items alone took up a large carry-on size bag of its own. He also brought a large television, laptop, tablet, two boxes of books, and school supplies. Also, he brought down his awards and trophies from whenever he won a singing contest and used them as decoration for his side of the room.

He didn't feel he had a lot. His parents were not rich, they worked hard at regular jobs, his mother was a nurse's aide, and his father drove a bus for the Metro in St. Louis. Because they never attended college, they wanted him to. It was their dream, not his.

"You rode a train in? From where?"

"St. Louis."

"That's where I'm from!" He moved up on the edge of the bed. "I can give you rides back home or whatever, I have a car."

"That's what's up." He pulled out a pair of worn-down Air Jordans. "I need new kicks, but mom could barely afford my train ticket here, so we gotta do what we gotta do. Oh, my bad, I'm Jordan, roomie. Hence the shoes, see, Jordan."

He liked Jordan already, and even though he seemed to not have much, he was happy and cheerful. He didn't let the fact that once he put his sheets on the bed you could still see the mattress phase him. The blanket he had was barely any thicker than the sheets. Yet he made his bed to perfection. He put away his clothes, and his one other pair of shoes and pulled out a small bag of his toiletries.

"Man, you sing, I dance, we should get an act together and pull all the honies."

"What honies?"

"Oh-" Jordan stopped. "I didn't mean to assume, man, if you're not into girls, that's cool. Not my business."

"Huh? I like girls...they just don't seem to like me." He had never had a girlfriend in his whole life, and he was nineteen.

"All the fine women here last year and you didn't get your mack daddy on? You sing! Playa sing, and the panties drop!"

Panties dropping, yeah sure. He sang about God and gospel music, which did not get girls thinking about dropping panties. Because he never had a girlfriend, he never had sex either. Something he was not proud of, because he was attracted to girls. Had plenty of naughty thoughts of girls. Had yet to do anything about them.

"Look Manny Fresh, this year is going to be your year. Our year. Hang with me and we are about to do big things."

He had no idea what those big things would be, but he was in.

A/N: Jordan's background is similar to mine. I had two maybe three bags of things with me when I first left for college. And I didn't have sheets at all for my bed. NONE! I went to the store the next day after sleeping on a bare mattress and bought some. And parents bringing me down? Yeah, right. The struggle was real.

More on Jordan next chapter.

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