Princeton University - Rockefeller College
Sam had gone straight to the Web the instant his dorm assignment came in the mail. They'd put him in a freshman-heavy building called Rockefeller College, which, according to rumor, could easily leave a guy five flights of stairs away from the nearest communal bathroom. His assignment wasn't quite that bad, but it wasn't easy to reach either- three flights up and at the end of a long corridor. That was gonna make getting his stuff in a picnic, he was sure.
On the other hand, considering that the elevators were pretty well tied up, it meant that he got to grab a light bag or two and head up to his room well ahead of his parents. "Go on, Sam, see what you've got," his dad urged as he shoved the big box of books a little closer to the nearest elevator.
"Make sure and make a good impression on this 'Ahmer' fellow!" his mother chimed in.
"Assuming he got there first-"
"I'm going, I'm going!" said Sam, and bolted. The stairs weren't quite as crowded, but man was the third floor a zoo, boxes everywhere, students and parents shuffling in and out. He rounded the corner, checked the paper in his hand, opened the door- and found a room with several trash bags full of Federal Express packaging and, God help him, posters of the Autobots already tacked up on the walls.
Sam smacked the heel of his hand into his forehead several times.
"Oh, hey, you're here," said a cheerful voice. Sam dropped his hand and looked up. The speaker was about his own age, a thin, gangly, looking fellow with dusky skin, wire-rimmed glasses, and the sort of beard that guys who just can't grow beards inevitably wind up with when they insist on trying. "Sam Witwicky, right? My name's Ahmer Durrani. Nice to meet you. Please don't step in that spot over there inside the masking tape."
Sam hopped away reflexively, glancing down at the bath-towel-sized area. "Huh? Something wrong with the floor?"
"No, that's where my prayer rug's going. No feet of any kind, please. Hope you don't mind I picked out my own space already." Ahmer grinned. "I probably should've waited and flipped a coin for it, but Dad had all my stuff shipped here next day air."
"That, uh, that explains all the Fedex boxes." Sam shook his head. "Your parents didn't come with you?"
"Oh, they wanted to, but there's a family wedding going on back in Pakistan and they had to go." Ahmer shrugged. "Dad works for Fedex, so the employee discount got a workout instead. It's an honor to meet you-"
"Yeah, about that." Sam jerked his chin towards the nearest poster, which looked like it'd been taken at that robotics convention Bumblebee had attended in Tokyo last year. "What's up with that?"
Ahmer glanced over at the poster himself. "You like it? I've been following the Cybertronians in the news ever since the first leaks from Mission City. I'm going to major in mech e., and these guys are just incredible What I wouldn't give to talk to one of them for just five minutes- hey, did any of them come with you, maybe?"
"No. No, they- I- no." Sam shook his head. "They're all back west, far as I know. It's just me. Well. Today it's just me and my parents. But after that? It's just me."
Ahmer's brow wrinkled at that. "Seriously? But I thought you-"
"-had a car who turned out to be one of the Cybertronians, yeah, I know," Sam interrupted. "And I did. But he's not with me. You know the rules, they were all over the housing papers-"
"But you're Sam Witwicky! And your car's an alien, not just a car!" Ahmer said. "They'd've made an exception-"
"I didn't want one!" Sam protested. "I already have enough trouble with- look, I just didn't want one, okay? I just want to be a, a, a student. Like every other student."
"Huh." Ahmer crossed his arms over his chest. "Really."
"Yes." Sam crossed his arms right back. "Really."
"You're sure."
"I'm sure."
"You don't secretly have a very small Autobot on your person or in your things somewhere."
"No I do not secretly have an Autobot in my things! Jeez!"
"Just asking!" Ahmer put up his hands defensively. "Although if you are and you can't talk about it, you can wink once for yes-"
"Sam!" Ron Witwicky yelled from out in the corridor. "You didn't tell us it was gonna be this far!"
"The dorm map wasn't to scale, Dad!" Sam answered. In an undertone to Ahmer he added, "The 'rents."
Ahmer nodded; Judy Witwicky promptly elbowed the door open, suitcases in each hand. "Oh, hi there!" she beamed. She put down one of the bags and stuck out a hand for Ahmer to shake. "Judy Witwicky, Sam's mom. It's so nice to meet you, ah- how do I pronounce your name? Aymer?"
"Close. Ahmer. Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Witwicky-"
"Oh my God, and you went to all the trouble of making Sam feel at home?" Judy said; she'd spotted the wall decor. "Ron! Ron, come and look at this! Sam's roommate's got posters of all the Autobots up!"
"You couldn't have just put swimsuit models up or something?" Sam hissed under his breath.
"Wouldn't have been appropriate," Ahmer whispered in return. "I'm not-"
"Where did you get this picture of Ironhide and Miss Lissar?" Judy asked as Ron lumbered through the door, red-faced and sweating. "I don't remember this one being in the papers-"
There was a thump as Ron dropped the box of books an inch shy of the taped-off zone; Ahmer winced. "Nice place you got here, kid," Ron said. "Sam? What did I tell you about buying your reading material here? I nearly threw my back out getting this stuff up here."
"Ron, come and look at this, he's got the whole photo series from when those Japanese reporters came to the house!" Judy said. "Remember?"
"How can I forget?" Ron said, wiping his hands on his shirt. "It's not often a man gets his remodeling work in the newspaper."
"They were taking pictures of the aliens, Ron," Judy reminded him.
"And they got my hard work in the background of every single one. That counts in my book."
Sam just shook his head and went about dragging the suitcases over to what would be his dresser, and did his best to block out his mother's excited exclamations over every single photograph, picture, and poster in the room. It didn't work very well. His mother got excited easily. Fortunately, by the time he'd emptied his clothes out of both suitcases his father had come to the end of his patience. "Judy- JUDY. Come on. The van's downstairs and we've got another two trips to make. Sam, you get your stuff squared away, we'll be back..."
His parents left, and silence descended. Eventually, Ahmer said, "So."
Sam glanced to the door, and then back to Ahmer. "So."
"Your parents..."
"Yeah."
"Are they always like that?"
"Sometimes," Sam said, "they're worse."
"Ah." Ahmer chewed on his thumbnail for a bit. "I'll take the posters down."
"Thank you."
"Can I keep one of the small ones up?"
"Fine. I'm good with that."
"Thank you, Sam."
"No problem."
On the other hand, considering that the elevators were pretty well tied up, it meant that he got to grab a light bag or two and head up to his room well ahead of his parents. "Go on, Sam, see what you've got," his dad urged as he shoved the big box of books a little closer to the nearest elevator.
"Make sure and make a good impression on this 'Ahmer' fellow!" his mother chimed in.
"Assuming he got there first-"
"I'm going, I'm going!" said Sam, and bolted. The stairs weren't quite as crowded, but man was the third floor a zoo, boxes everywhere, students and parents shuffling in and out. He rounded the corner, checked the paper in his hand, opened the door- and found a room with several trash bags full of Federal Express packaging and, God help him, posters of the Autobots already tacked up on the walls.
Sam smacked the heel of his hand into his forehead several times.
"Oh, hey, you're here," said a cheerful voice. Sam dropped his hand and looked up. The speaker was about his own age, a thin, gangly, looking fellow with dusky skin, wire-rimmed glasses, and the sort of beard that guys who just can't grow beards inevitably wind up with when they insist on trying. "Sam Witwicky, right? My name's Ahmer Durrani. Nice to meet you. Please don't step in that spot over there inside the masking tape."
Sam hopped away reflexively, glancing down at the bath-towel-sized area. "Huh? Something wrong with the floor?"
"No, that's where my prayer rug's going. No feet of any kind, please. Hope you don't mind I picked out my own space already." Ahmer grinned. "I probably should've waited and flipped a coin for it, but Dad had all my stuff shipped here next day air."
"That, uh, that explains all the Fedex boxes." Sam shook his head. "Your parents didn't come with you?"
"Oh, they wanted to, but there's a family wedding going on back in Pakistan and they had to go." Ahmer shrugged. "Dad works for Fedex, so the employee discount got a workout instead. It's an honor to meet you-"
"Yeah, about that." Sam jerked his chin towards the nearest poster, which looked like it'd been taken at that robotics convention Bumblebee had attended in Tokyo last year. "What's up with that?"
Ahmer glanced over at the poster himself. "You like it? I've been following the Cybertronians in the news ever since the first leaks from Mission City. I'm going to major in mech e., and these guys are just incredible What I wouldn't give to talk to one of them for just five minutes- hey, did any of them come with you, maybe?"
"No. No, they- I- no." Sam shook his head. "They're all back west, far as I know. It's just me. Well. Today it's just me and my parents. But after that? It's just me."
Ahmer's brow wrinkled at that. "Seriously? But I thought you-"
"-had a car who turned out to be one of the Cybertronians, yeah, I know," Sam interrupted. "And I did. But he's not with me. You know the rules, they were all over the housing papers-"
"But you're Sam Witwicky! And your car's an alien, not just a car!" Ahmer said. "They'd've made an exception-"
"I didn't want one!" Sam protested. "I already have enough trouble with- look, I just didn't want one, okay? I just want to be a, a, a student. Like every other student."
"Huh." Ahmer crossed his arms over his chest. "Really."
"Yes." Sam crossed his arms right back. "Really."
"You're sure."
"I'm sure."
"You don't secretly have a very small Autobot on your person or in your things somewhere."
"No I do not secretly have an Autobot in my things! Jeez!"
"Just asking!" Ahmer put up his hands defensively. "Although if you are and you can't talk about it, you can wink once for yes-"
"Sam!" Ron Witwicky yelled from out in the corridor. "You didn't tell us it was gonna be this far!"
"The dorm map wasn't to scale, Dad!" Sam answered. In an undertone to Ahmer he added, "The 'rents."
Ahmer nodded; Judy Witwicky promptly elbowed the door open, suitcases in each hand. "Oh, hi there!" she beamed. She put down one of the bags and stuck out a hand for Ahmer to shake. "Judy Witwicky, Sam's mom. It's so nice to meet you, ah- how do I pronounce your name? Aymer?"
"Close. Ahmer. Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Witwicky-"
"Oh my God, and you went to all the trouble of making Sam feel at home?" Judy said; she'd spotted the wall decor. "Ron! Ron, come and look at this! Sam's roommate's got posters of all the Autobots up!"
"You couldn't have just put swimsuit models up or something?" Sam hissed under his breath.
"Wouldn't have been appropriate," Ahmer whispered in return. "I'm not-"
"Where did you get this picture of Ironhide and Miss Lissar?" Judy asked as Ron lumbered through the door, red-faced and sweating. "I don't remember this one being in the papers-"
There was a thump as Ron dropped the box of books an inch shy of the taped-off zone; Ahmer winced. "Nice place you got here, kid," Ron said. "Sam? What did I tell you about buying your reading material here? I nearly threw my back out getting this stuff up here."
"Ron, come and look at this, he's got the whole photo series from when those Japanese reporters came to the house!" Judy said. "Remember?"
"How can I forget?" Ron said, wiping his hands on his shirt. "It's not often a man gets his remodeling work in the newspaper."
"They were taking pictures of the aliens, Ron," Judy reminded him.
"And they got my hard work in the background of every single one. That counts in my book."
Sam just shook his head and went about dragging the suitcases over to what would be his dresser, and did his best to block out his mother's excited exclamations over every single photograph, picture, and poster in the room. It didn't work very well. His mother got excited easily. Fortunately, by the time he'd emptied his clothes out of both suitcases his father had come to the end of his patience. "Judy- JUDY. Come on. The van's downstairs and we've got another two trips to make. Sam, you get your stuff squared away, we'll be back..."
His parents left, and silence descended. Eventually, Ahmer said, "So."
Sam glanced to the door, and then back to Ahmer. "So."
"Your parents..."
"Yeah."
"Are they always like that?"
"Sometimes," Sam said, "they're worse."
"Ah." Ahmer chewed on his thumbnail for a bit. "I'll take the posters down."
"Thank you."
"Can I keep one of the small ones up?"
"Fine. I'm good with that."
"Thank you, Sam."
"No problem."