Damnit – By Elsie

“So you haven’t talked to Don yet?”

Her shoulders slumped slightly, “No, not yet. I don’t know why I keep avoiding him. We’re going to have to have this discussion sooner or later,” the words left her lips in sad breathy tones.

Laura noted the slight facadical change, “Jesus Marlena, you’re just breaking up with him, it’s not the end of the world. And at least afterwards you won’t have to face him for another year.”

“I know! I know! But it still sucks, you get me? Don’s a great guy. I mean really, he’s the only guy I’ve gone out with more than 2 months.”

“Was he good in bed? I bet he was,” phonetically innocent question.

The unexpected inquiry threw her into girlish giggles, “Oooh bebe, was he ever, but I still have to break it off. Long distance relationships just don’t work. Me in California, him in Virginia. Too many good looking people to meet in that space between..”

“Ohh… you ready for the big jump? College is going to be *nothing* like high school.”

“Huuh, I’d hope so,” Marlena idly wondered back to her closet to remove various articles of clothing. An indecisive eye judged a rather tight pale pink cashmere sweater, “Hey, Laur, think I should take this?” She held the garment to her chest.

“Well, you don’t really use it, but it is cute, and you never know… you might want to take it. You know, keep your options open.”

“Yea, I guess..” A sharp cry from downstairs caught Marlena’s attention, “Dude, did you hear something?” Before Laura could answer, Mrs. Evan’s distinct call of ‘Marlena’ reverberated through the halls of the Evans’ home, “I’ll be right back,” Marelna quickly rushed to source of her mother’s voice, “Coming mother!”

Upon reaching the landing, her eyes sought to locate her mother, finally coming to find her in the family room, “Yea moth-” the words died in her throat as her glance fell upon the person next her mother.

Don Craig.

Shit. Just the person she’d been avoinding. The conversation she’d been avoiding. There was no way out of this. He was standing before her, and there was no excuse in the world that would get her out of the inevitable.

A thick fog of tension rolled through and the silence became akward in a room of familiar faces. Martha sensed the seriousness of the moment and appropriately excused herself from room. But like all nosy mothers, could not fight the overwhelming compulsion to eavesdrop on what she sensed would be an important conversation between her daughter and her boyfriend. Rounding the corner, Martha edged the wall, allowing her a small narrow view of the couple.

They spoke in hushed tones and long faces, with a touch of apprehension. But what she couldn’t hear, she could guage by body language and movement. Marlena hands alternated between being tightly fisted and fidgeting with random locks of hair whilst she spoke. Across from her, Don nodded slowly, taking her fisted hands within his and prying them open, allowing the blood to flow smoothly. Whatever she had told him so grimly, he seemed to accept in rather high spirits and he moved to embrace her and smile once more before departing the Evans’ household. Soon after an equally calm Marlena returned to the safe haven of her bedroom.

Obviously the two had just broken off their relationship. Such a shame. Don Craig was such a nice boy. And they had been together a great deal of time, far longer than Marlena’s standard 2 months.

But one thing truly baffled her.

Were teenagers always that calm when breaking up?

:::

Laura was greeted by a calm and relaxed Marlena, a far cry from the bundle of nerved that was pacing her room in fear, “So what’d your mom want?”

“Oh that. Don was here. But he’s gone now,” back to packing she went.

“Gone as in *gone*?” A nod from Marlena answered her question, “Wow. And nobody cried? He didn’t yell or anything dramatic like that?”

“Nope. He just said that he understand and that he wished me the best.”

“Your kidding. He said that? Really?” Laura’s eyes widened in genuine astonishment, “That’s weird. The guy worshipped you… *unless*..”

That successfully piqued Marlena’s curiousity, “Unless what?”

“Well, maybe he was planning on breaking it off with you too, except you beat him to it.”

“Laura that’s stupid, why would he do that?”

“For the same reason you broke up with him, dumbass.”

Pausing to reflect slightly, Marlena gaped in disgust, “That asshole! Who the fuck does he think he is?”

Amused but slightly confused, Laura laughed openly and harshly, “What’s so wrong about it? You were the one to actually do it.”

“Yeah, but this is me we’re talking about honey. The guy is *never* supposed to break up with me.”

“Oh sweetie, if only we all had an ego like yours,” rolling her eyes lightly, she attempted at light hearted consoling of her dear friend, “Don’t worry so much Marlena, I’m sure there are plenty of guys to break up with at UCSD. You’ll get over it.”

:::

The light sheen of sweat on his body had just begun to settle when his girlfriend Kristen quickly began to dress. As she sat at his desk to reapply her make up and re position various strands of hair, she quickly looked at John and sighed deeply, “John, I think we should break up.”

Her announcement was met with silence so she continued on with her preplanned speech. It was all in her head. They’d been having sex in John’s bed and the words suddenly came to her. The perfect speech. Damn, she was brilliant, “Well, you’re going to be away, and I mean, like, yeah, long distance isn’t good for a relationship. I mean, you’ll be around all these pretty college girls and I’ll be… well, forget that, the point is, you won’t, like, be here, and it’s not going to work, like, you know what I mean?”

A silent John lay back in his bed, his head pillowed on crossed arms, “So, what was this, some goodbye fuck?”

“Well, not goodbye, I mean, when you come back we can still fool around…”

“No strings sex? You’re offering me no-strings sex?” John couldn’t help but laugh, “No no, that’s okay. Um, yeah, I think this is it.”

Kristen rose from the desk chair and crossed the room with a dramatic flair, lowering herself to sit on the bed next to him, “Don’t be sad John, this is for the best. Like, really, I saw it on Buffy. You’ll thank me someday.” With no further words, she placed the thin strap of her purse about her shoulder and left the room and John for good.

Odd. He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t even feeling any kind of negative emotion. Perhaps he would thank Kristen someday. Hopefully UCSD would give him something, and someone to finally really smile about.

To Be Continued…

With a slight case of nerves, Marlena and her mother, various pieces of luggage in tow, roamed the unfamiliar outdoor walkways that circled the various apartment-esque dorm fleets that made up Revelle college. Looking down, Marlena re-read the key tag, once more for reassurance. ME 453, it read. Before her, a four story fleet, surrounded by six identical, displayed the name Meteor Hall. ME … Meteor? Of course. It had to be. None of the others had names remotely similar to the abbreviation on her key.

Dropping her bags for a moment, to let her sore palms rest a moment, Marlena glanced at her mother, “I suppose this is it. By the looks of things, it seems I’m on the fourth floor. And I don’t think they have elevators.”

“Oh good lord, Marlena, we have to walk up those stairs? More than once?”

“I guess so. C’mon. We’re healthy. Let’s get going,” tightening her grip on her bags, the two made their way up the stairs, occasionally spotting various meteorites and their respective parents milling around in much the same way as themselves. And with slightly heavier breaths and cheeks dusted pink, they reached the landing of suite 450. Drawing her key, Marlena managed to open the door without dropping her bags and entered the common area of a suite that a had a decidedly dorm-like smell to it. Scanning the five bedrooms, she spotted the one which was to be her own, room 453, and proceeded to lead the way.

Odd. The door was unlocked. Her roommate for the next year must be in there. A nervous flutter overcame her being, and with slight apprehension born of excitement, she surged forward, the opening door allowing for a greater view of her new home. The first thing to greet her eyes was a girl, obviously her roommate. Kinda short; she looked about 5’2″. Red curly hair, big blue eyes… and very overweight.

“Hi, you must be Marlena Evans. I’m your roommate, Nancy,” she bubbled.
“How’d you know my name?”

“The sign on the door,” she pointed, “it’s got our names on it. I figured you were Marlena.”
“Yeah that’s me. Um, this is my mom. She’s helping me with my stuff.”

“Cool,” Nancy glanced quickly to the bed near the door, “Uh, I hope you don’t mind I claimed my bed already-“

“Oh no, it’s totally fine. I’m not picky about that stuff. Liar Marlena immediately told herself. But seriously, what good was there in having a disagreement so soon? “I don’t mind being by the window. Besides, I have a great view of…” she walked over to the blinds and pulled them open, “the parking lot? Yeah, so fucking cool, huh?” she laughed lightly.

The variation of snorts and giggles from Nancy were slightly amusing. But if she wasn’t careful, could get annoying, “Yeah, good old Revelle huh? *snort* *giggle* *snort* Makes me wish I’d gone to Marshall. Nice view of the canyon.”
“Uhh..”

“I was joking.”

“Hah. Okay.”

A strangled noise from the doorway interrupted the light conversation, “Okay Marlena, that’s about all that’s left of your stuff, except-“

“Hey, where’s my computer?”

“Sorry dear. These old bones aren’t made for lifting heavy machinery. I don’t think I can make another trip up those stairs either,” Mrs. Evans stern glare told her she wasn’t joking.

“Blaaah. Okay. I’ll go. Leave me to injure myself. When I’m laying in the hospital, you’ll be sorry.”

:::

“So yeah, my ex-girlfriend, dumped me right after we’d finished having sex. Ran off like the whore she is,” John retold the tragic tail of events to his new roommate, Tom Pullen. Cool Guy. Tall, Blonde, California white guy with a black guy trapped on the inside, “Kind of like a fucked up oreo,” he’d explained.

“Damn son, that suuuuuuuucks. You know, since we’re like done here, you know what we should do?” Tom put the last of his items away, “go meet some hot chicks.”

“Yeah? And what come on should I use?”

“Nigggaaaaahh pleeeeeeease. It’s move in day. We’ve got the perfect excuse. We’re two sexy ass guys looking to assist poor weak females carry their precious things to their rooms.”

“Tom? I like the way you think.”

:::

“Uuuuughhhh!” she squealed, but alas, the large box moved fractionally at best, though she suspected it her was her imagination. She was positive it wasn’t moving. Marlena looked to the door on her left. Suite 200. Fuck Fuck Fuck!!!. There were still another 2 and a half flights of stairs to go and she was already out of breath.

An abrupt swinging of the suite 200 door startled her to attention, causing her to lose her weak grip of the cardboard box, “Oh no!” The box dropped heavily onto the concrete landing, the harshness of impact forcing everyone to step aback slightly.

Tom saw the opportunity for what it was. A hot chick in need of help of the male persuasion. “So, uh-“

“-Marlena-“

“-Marlena, you need any help? We’re just two cool guys offering our services to all the lovely ladies in need of assistance. Why? Because we’re such good guys.”

How amusing, “Uh, sure. Yeah, thanks. I’m in 450.” The tall lean blonde and his slightly better built counterpart. Hmm, good looking boys at her feet already. Especially the dark haired one.

John’s eyes roamed her figure in silent appreciation. He thanked the Gods for college and tight jeans. And gorgeous too. She wasn’t some sexy body with an ugly head attached to it. Like Kristen. Dumb blonde. Dirty whore. Ho bag. Slut-

“Damn, that sucks. Hey John, give me a hand,” Tom turned to the now silent roommate, “Hey, John, don’t you know it’s not polite to stare? Now cut the drama and get the other side.”

John quickly snapped to attention. Did he miss something? “Huh? Oh! Sure thing man,” shaking his head slightly, John quickly adjusted his backwards LA Clippers hat and proceeded to haul mass pounds of machinery to the pretty girl’s destination.

She walked slightly above and before them, giving him a nice unobstructed view of her shapely behind, since he had the good fortune to be walking forward rather than backwards, as Tom was. Periodically she would look behind her, to gauge their progress, and flash him the cutest of smiles. A small little lop sided grin. Adorable. Sexy as hell.

‘Shit man, it’s your first day here, and you’re already jocking someone. Man give it time.. he told himself. And at long last, the group arrived at the threshold of her suite. Inside was an exact mirror image of their own suite. The suite area filled with parents of those who were to reside here. Marlena motioned them into her room. Once inside, and depositing her load near the cluttered desk, she turned to them, was about to bid her gratitude, when Tom cut in first, “So Marlena, some of the guys in my suite are going down to the Warren Apartments tonight. There’s this guy I knew in high school who’s a second year now, and anyway, he’s having a party. You feel like drinking tonight?”

Boy, he doesn’t waste any time does he?, “Actually that sounds good. What time?”

“Well, we’re leaving here around 10 or so. Warren college is clear across campus and I don’t think anyone wants to drive. Oh and hey, bring some of your suitemates. It’ll be a good way to break the ice, you know? Get shit faced and be happy.”

“Yeah, yeah, definitely.”

John finally spoke, “Niiice. Just come down around 9:40 or so. And then we’ll take off.”

:::

“Alright guys, I think we should be heading down stairs. Tom and John told me 9:40. It’s 9:50. We *really* need to bounce,” Marlena leaned lightly against the door frame. Inside, Lexi Dimera rushed to finish applying her make-up and retrieve a missing shoe amongst the various unpacked boxes still cluttering her and Kate’s room. When prompting the other girls as to whether they were interested in a little illegal activity in the form of a party, only four of the ten girls expressed genuine interest. So Lexi, Nicole, Hope-who claimed she doesn’t drink-, and herself, were off like a prom dress.

Later she realized their interest was rather reflective of personality. Nancy frowned upon such things. Jenn was kind of prudish. Mary was devout religious, believing such matters were wrong and indicative of sinful behavior- even bigger prude. The rest she hadn’t met. Oh well; their loss.

Once outside and carefully making their way down, the girls could hear the onslaught of several male voices, voices that quickly became visual representation. The guys had come looking for them.

“What’s up ladies? We figured such high maintenance chicks might take fucking forever, so we came up to get you.”

“Tom, is that supposed to flatter us? You’re never going to get a date like that,” Marlena half-teased. Turning to her respective suitemates, proper introductions were made, and such. Not that they’d all remember each others names so soon. But at least they’d recognize each other later.

:::

The walk to the Warren College Apartments had been slightly lengthy, but enjoyable in the company of others. She’d met some of the other boys in the 200 suite in the process, cataloging each of them for future reference.

Craig. Such a sweet guy, but kind of a pervert. Obsessed with sex. Talking about sex. Having sex. Making jokes about sex. But still an overall cool guy.

Bo Brady. Apparently his older brother Roman lives with this guy Jeff, Tom’s friend in the Warren Apts. Slight inferiority complex. Wanted to join the marines, but with urging from his parents, went to college instead. Why he came to the same school as his brother is a mystery.

Tom. No explanation needed.

Jack Deveraux. Sexuality is highly questionable. I’d advise Bo not to sleep ass up.

Eugene. A cutie in kind of a quirky computer geek sort of way. Off beat sense of humor. How in the world did he and Craig become roommates? It’s not surprising that he’s a computer engineering major.

John Black. Doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s nice. Nice build. Nice smile. Have I mentioned he’s hot? Yeah.

:::

Warren apartment c-2. First floor. Jeff greeted the oncoming guests, “Hi. I’m Hung.” To the looks of slight astonishment of blunt statement, he explained, “Jeff Hung. But I’d like to think I’m hung too,” and quickly ushered them into the severely crowded apartment. Dozens of people littered the expanse of space, random red plastic cups and empty corona bottles kicked at their feet as they walked.

“Hey everyone! The freshmeat are here!” Jeff laughed loudly, obviously well past buzzing. Turning to them, the tall Asian man smiled warmly, “Alright guys drinks are over there,” motioning to the small kitchen in the far corner, “And bathroom is over there, across from my room. There’s 2 toilets, and 2 sinks, so if you gotta hurl, it’s all good. You puke on my floor, you’re cleaning tomorrow.”

Several drinks and shots later found all of them really feeling the pain, with the exception of a sober Hope, who, true to her word, was straight-edge. Marlena leaned her forehead against the mass of chest in front of her. Who it was she didn’t know, she was just glad it was there. Moaning lightly, her hand reached to cover her eyes, as if the mere sight of another drink would ward off the inevitable.

“Hey babe, you feelin it?” it sounded like familiar. Ah yes, Roman Brady, Bo’s brother.

“Nuhghhh…” was all she could manage. There was a slight sensation on her lower regions. Was that a hand on her ass? And the light breath upon her ear was disturbing, “I think I’m going to be sick..”

“Hey hey, I got her,” John appeared from within the crowd, highly unsteady in his feet, but in good health. Grasping her by the waist, he promptly led her to the small bathroom, settling her before the toilet.

The white porcelain was salvation, “Oh, toilet, you’re my only friend..” she grumbled, before unloading various organic acids unto the bowl before her. The exertion from the effort hurt, and she could not help but grimace. Once the discomfort passed, she was presented with the sight of, “John, oh, you’re my hero.”

“Yeah man, I am huh?” he lifted her to her feet, and they moved to the bathroom counter.

“Nast.. puke is leaving a bad after taste. I want… I want to brush my teeth.” Marlena declared, fingering a tooth brush and tube of paste from a random cubby hole. In the back of her mind, the initials R.B. flashed at her, the tag on the small space. Oh- so this is *Roman’s* toothbrush, huh? *Good*. Serves him right for trying to take advantage of my state.

The cool water felt heavenly, as did the strong support of John holding her up. Once again regaining a bit of lucidity, the two settled on the newly vacated couch in the common area, Marlena leaning upon him slightly. With a teasing shove, John laughingly grasped her head, pushing her lightly, watching as she nearly fell over in drunken stupor.

Slightly disheveled blonde hair went wild about her face, and in one motion, Marlena retaliated, taking her palm and grasping his cheek, pushing back with just as much force, knocking his LA Clippers hat of his head, revealing a beautiful head of black hair. As John reached to retrieve his hat, Marlena, smaller and eager, bent faster, and stole the cap from his clutches, and placed upon her own head. A sign of triumph in her eyes.

“Hah. I’m not getting my hat back am I?” such a rhetorical question.

Rather than answer she shoved again, her small body moving in one long motion. Only this time she misjudged her force, and collapsed next to him, heads close, breaths panting with laughter and effort.

As if from some invisible force, their heads simultaneously gravitated towards one another, in a blind search for another pair of warm lips. It was sudden and completely unexpected. The instant warmth was sweet and comforting, so neither made an effort to disengage their oral activity.

But soon air became necessity and the two parted slowly, neither quite sure what had transpired, but thoroughly satisfied from the moment with an absence of reason.

“Hey man,” Tom passed him quickly, “I think you might be needing this more than I do,” quickly tossing a small object, which John caught and palmed. It was but a moment later that the two peered into the now open fist. The two giggled sloppily, “Wasn’t that sweet of him? You’re boy’s looking out for you, John!”

For in his palm he held a condom. Trojan man.

To Be Continued…

There was a slight buzzing in her head, growing louder and louder as she slowly continued to gain consciousness at a sustained moderate pace. Marlena was vaguely aware of the slight smell of rum and cigarettes, moments later realizing that the smell was actually her own hair and rumpled clothing. Moving slightly in an attempt to sit up, her aching joints and various other internal organs groaned in protest, forcing her to remain in the fetal position she’d been in for some time and settled herself in the warm spot she’d left.

She was prepared to stay in that spot for as long as she could, but a tightening in her lower abdomen would indicate otherwise. Marlena tried her damnedest to ignore it, but the ache seemed to spread, until she could stand it no longer. She had to get up, and she had to pee. Badly.

With a new sense of urgency, she lifted herself clumsily from the foreign bed and made her way to what hopefully was the bathroom. A few steps out of the bedroom, it was then she realized she wasn’t in her own room. She wasn’t even in Revelle. With confusion came the inevitable burden of questions.

Who’s bed had she been sleeping one?

Had there been someone with her?

Where the fuck was she??

Immediately she thought to run away, as fast as her legs could take her, but that ever present ache still persisted, and she had no choice but to submit to her bladders wishes. To her right was a large door, unsimilar to the bedroom doors, which led her to believe behind it was the bathroom.

There was a slight feeling of familiarity in there, as she took in the surroundings of what was obviously a very male dominated bathroom. Moving quickly, and hoping no one would walk in. She hurried into the one of the two bathroom stalls and proceeded to relive herself.

And there she sat, and waited patiently. To her left there were several issues of playboy lying on a psuedo shelf. Marlena vaguely thought of skimming it, but ultimately declined, as her mind began to think of the possible indecent ways those magazines were actually used, especially there in the bathroom.

No, first things first. Relieve the bladder.

Still..
Still….
Just a little more…
Should she be timing this?
Finally done. Mission accomplished.

She had heard non one enter the bathroom, so she assumed it safe to leave the stall. Her next goal was to wash her hands as quickly as possible and get the hell out and make her slightly unsteady way back to her own college. And her own dorm. And her own bed. Wait a minute. She hadn’t come alone last night. She had some with her suitemates. And the boys from the 200 suite. Where was everyone?

Any further thoughts were cut short as a flash of green caught her eye. And then, that’s when she saw it. A small generic toothbrush laying still on the sink counter. The one she had used last night. After she had vomited herself into oblivion. Not good memories.

Either way, she had to get home. Yes, get the hell out of this place and go home.

:::

John slowly managed his way up the single flight of stairs back to Jeff and Roman’s apt. In his hands he balanced the contents of a lightweight breakfast. Very lightweight. Being the awesome guy he was, when he had risen earlier that morning, and found himself laying next to a beautiful blonde girl on a tiny dorm twin size bed, his immediate reaction was to do something nice for her. They hadn’t talked much, but she sure could kiss. And if they’re small playful session meant anything, he could admit he was beginning to like her.

And so with his cafeteria issue tray, holding an assorted fruit cup and a bottle of water, alongside a more manly meal of eggs and bacon for himself, he continued the short distance left to reach Marlena.

She would be surprised. She would be charmed.

She would be his.

Satisfied with his efforts thus far, a wildly exuberant John entered the bedroom, his blue eyes twinkling with barely concealed excitement. But to his surprise, he came upon an empty room. Her shoes, which had earlier been thrown precariously to the floor, where gone, and the slight rumple of a human shape upon the mattress had long ago disappeared, indicating she probably left some time ago.

Which meant, she had woken up alone. And probably thought everyone had left her there. And moreover, meant she went back home. Alone.

“Damnit Damnit Damnit!!” he dropped the tray upon the nearest tray, and turned to leave quickly.

Upon exit, he encountered Jeff, one of the occupants of the apartment, “Hey Jeff, did you see a blonde girl leave?”

Squinting his almond shaped eyes, Jeff contemplated his answer briefly before grinning largely, “Man, I saw a lot of blonde girls leave.”

With a groan, John could only shake his head in exasperation, “Oh fuck me…”

:::

She was angry, and more than just a little hurt. How could they leave her there? Alone? Drunk and sick in a strange place with people she’d only known a few hours? It’d only been 24 hours and Marlena was already feeling the beginnings of bitter resentment towards her new roommates. Something she wasn’t expecting to feel until at least the second or third quarter.

No matter. She didn’t like conflict. And unless one of them opened their big fat mouths about it, would she mention her concerns.

Taking a cleansing breath, she pushed the main door open and prepared herself for what she assumed would be the inevitable. Teasing and knowing glances from girls who would automatically assume the worst. And rightly so. She wasn’t exactly doing herself any favors by coming in at 11 am the next morning.

Oh what Nancy the prude roommate must be thinking.

Walking quickly to avoid drawing attention to herself, her hopes were dashed moments later when she saw Lexie, coming out of the bathroom in a soft blue robe, her light chocolate skin flushed and damp from her recent shower, “Well, well, look who’s finally home. Shit girl you work fast.” She tightened the belt on her robe, “That John’s damn hot.”

At the mention of John, Marlena’s already slightly sour mood, fell darker, and she lowered her eyes slightly at the thought of him. And furthermore, her behavior with him.

Lexie noticed the slight change and knew that something was definitely wrong. That her assumptions were somehow incorrect. Giving her a reassuring smile, she lightly touched Marlena on the arm in what she hoped would appear to be a comforting gesture, “I’ll be in my room. If you want to talk about it, you know where I am.”

Marlena released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. Nodding in the affirmative, she muster the energy to offer what she hoped appeared to be a grateful smile and continued to her room. To face Nancy.

The door creaked and to her surprise, she found Nancy still sleeping away, the occasional snore evidence to the depth of her resting. Changing her clothing quickly, she tossed on some comfortable bum-around-the-house wear, and decided maybe she would take Lexie up on her offer of an understanding ear.

Creeping out slowly, so as not to ruse the slumbering Nancy from her sleep, Marlena failed to notice Nancy open her eyes and subsequently roll them. Her perception of Marlena was becoming less and less favorable.
But that was the least of Marlena’s concerns.

She approached Lexie’s closed door, and lightly knocked to alert Lexie of her presence. There was a middle range murmur of music, of what she did not know, but a moment later, a soft “Come in, the door’s unlocked” carried above the sounds, and urged Marlena to come forward.

The room looked different from the last time she had seen it yesterday. The amount of unpacked boxes had been drastically reduced and dozens upon dozens of personal items and pictures were assorted in various places. The other side of the room, obviously belonging to Kate Roberts, was immaculately laid out, and neatly organized. She had a feeling, Lexie was going to be the slob of the two..

“Kate and Hope went to the Price Center bookstore to get their books for class,” she peered closely at Marlena’s slightly ashen complexion, “Hey, you feeling better?” Lexie roused Marlena from her observations.

“If you’re wondering if I’m still in danger of throwing up, don’t worry, it’s passed.”

“Well, that’s good.”

Finally, Marlena had to know, “Where’d you guys go? You all left me there.”

Lexie had known this was coming. She had been uneasy about leaving Marlena there, but the majority had voted to leave her there to rest, with assurances from John that he would stay and look after her. “Just for the record, let me state that it wasn’t my idea to leave you at Warren. Actually, we probably wouldn’t have, except John reassured us that he’d keep and eye out for you.”

“That’s pretty interesting,” Marlena bristled slightly, “Considering he was gone and I was alone when I woke up this morning. I almost didn’t recognize where I was, that is, until I started remembering.”

Lexie couldn’t contain her surprise, “you mean he left you there?” Now Marlena had her full attention, “What a jerk. Why would he take off?”

“Well, in light of what you just told me, I’ve been wondering the same damn thing.”

“We should go downstairs and bitch him out.” She fiddled with the brush in her hands and said to no one in particular, “Wow, and I wasn’t expecting to meet any lowlife’s this early on.”

“Hah! and I wasn’t expecting to drink so much I’d get sick and pass out,” she turned to the nearby window overlooking Revelle Plaza, “And to think I didn’t even spend my first night here in my own bed. Jesus, what you guys must think of me. I feel so awful!”

“Marlena, look at me,” Lexie forced her to focus, “You did nothing wrong. Maybe things did get a bit out of hand. Maybe you were a little overeager. But hey, we all were. Everyone was drinking. Everyone played the fool. Don’t be so hard on your self.”
She waited for a response from Marlena, but found none. Thus she continued, “Alright then, I’ll let you in on a little secret. Remember Craig? The guy with the sex complex?”

Marlena filed through her new catalogue of names before placing the name with the face, “Oh yeah. He’s kind of pervy, but in a funny sort of way. What about him?”

Lexie gave her a leering grin and wagged her brows suggestively.

She eyed her skeptically. She found no sign of lying, “You’re shitting me.”

A laughing Lexie could only shake her head, “He’s a nice kisser.”

“Oh God. You don’t know how much of a relief this is.”

“Why? Although I have my ideas..”

“This means I’m not a ho!” Marlena rapidly went from despondent to playful.

“Or it means that we both are.”

:::

Tom sat at his computer, clicking away silently at a round of minesweeper. Almost.. Almost… NO! Hit a mine again. Always so close, but not quite there.

The bedroom door alerted him to another presence. In walked John, and he looked like shit.

“Hey John,” he called out, his eyes never leaving his computer as he started another round of minesweeper.

“Fuck Tom, I just screwed up royally.”

“Don’t you mean, you just screwed someone?”

“No Tom, we didn’t have sex. I’m not that scummy.”

“Too bad. She seemed to like you.”

“Dude, we’re not going to fuck on the first day. In fact, after today, I don’t think we’re going to fuck *ever*.”

Tom swiveled around in his desk chair, “What to do mean? Last I saw you guys were making out pretty hardcore, like porn grade kissing.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to do anything, but when I woke up, I thought she might want something to eat, so I walked to Canyon Vista to get her some food and water. But when I got back, she was gone. She probably thinks I abandoned her, well, if she remembers I made myself in charge of her well-being and all.”

“So,” Tom’s confusion was visible, “How is that bad? Just tell her what happened.”

“I don’t know.. maybe I should wait a bit. Let her cool off, you know, in case she wants to tear my nuts off or something.”

“Aww is John getting a little shy?” Tom grabbed his microphone, lying casually on his desk, which looked to be hooked to his computer, “Hey I know what’ll make you feel better.”

“What’s that?” John eyed him suspiciously.

“A song about… YOUR MOM!”

Baby baby, fuck your momma
Fuck your momma
Ohh your momma’s so sexy
I like to put my penis in your momma’s butt
La La La La
Fuck your momma is the best

A newly amused John laughed as he spoke, “Tom that was disgusting.”

“Hah! But it made you laugh,” He put the microphone down, “Hey I need to pick up my text books from price center. Wanna go?”

“Sure, I need to buy mine too anyway. Ugh, I already don’t want to go to class.”

To Be Continued…

“So I was reading some of the stats for this school.” Craig scratched at his freshly shaven chin, “UCSD is like 3 girls to 1 guy, so technically..”

John briefly removed his toothbrush from his mouth and spit, “Yeah…”

“So, if i steal just one guy’s girl rations, I get 6 girls! Damn, 6 girls is like all I need.”

“And do your rations include all the men posing as women? And all the fucking nasties who look like they got hit with ugly sticks?”

Craig stalled his activities, “Well, if they’re smart, I can keep them around.. and engage them in purely platonic relationships. I’ll only fuck the hot ones.”

“Unless they’re prudes.”

“FUCK John! Why you gotta ruin my theory like that?” For a brief moment, it might have seemed as if Craig was in fact quite bothered, but the smile that quickly followed put any doubts to rest. John was quickly discovering that that was just the nature of this particular beast; Craig Wesley. He was quite the silly man, but his anger flared quickly and strongly, in the form of small childlike tantrums, designed to let off steam, and simultaneously amuse those around him.

Fact was, he was learning things like this, small quirks and odd idiosyncrasies, about everyone, and either embracing it, or hiding his disdain as best he could.

Sure all the guys got along great. They were guys, that’s how guys are, they.. get along.. and.. hang out.. and..

Yeah.

No way were they going to get on each other’s nerves. That catty bullshit was reserved for chicks. It was their nature, as they are forever competing against the other in all aspects of their being, no matter how petty or inconsequential the reason.

Craig made a sudden dash for one of the toilet stalls, but nonetheless kept the conversation flowing, “Hey John,” his voice rang out clearly above the tinkle of urination, “you get up for your 8 am ok?”

“Pshh. ‘Course. I don’t know what the RA was talking about when she said getting up for early morning classes would be hard,” John shook his head in slowly, “I mean, we’ve been doing that kind of shit since we were babies. Why would it be any different now?”

The tinkle died down into light dropping, then finally ceased all together. Stepping out, Craig waited for the flush of the toilet to quiet down before answering, “I don’t know, but I think Tiff may be right. I feel like my whole orderly schedule is out of whack. All I want to do is sleep in the day and be awake at night.”

“Nah. I still say it’s no big deal. Trust me,” a quick glance to his watch put him in a slight frenzy, “Oh fuck, I’m going to be late for Chemistry.”

“Where at?”

“Uh, Warren lecture hall.”

“Cool. I got Math at Center. Wait up.”

:::
The lecture hall was located at what seemed to be the furthest point away from Revelle, which cost him a total of almost 20 minutes to get to. Once there, he was assaulted by the stale scent of wood and other classroom related smells. Dozens of other students were filing in from several directions and into the rapidly declining number of available seats. He had hoped to sit near the front, but it didn’t seem likely anymore, so settled for a seat off to the left in the 14th row.

Settling in quickly, he turned discreetly to look around him, and gauge the other students in the class. By his visual estimate, he guessed there to be somewhere between 250-300 students, and the room filled to maximum occupancy. So many different types of people caught his eye:

The jocks…

The academics…

The preps…

The socials…

Marlena…

Wait.. a … minute..

MARLENA!?

Oh no. Think fast John.

His mind raced with endless possibilities should she turn her delicate head and lay her eyes upon him. Each scenario equally dreadful, equally unwanted. Would she cast him an evil glance, and burst all his hopes of getting to know this intriguing girl?

Would she turn to whisper to one of her companions, and giggle non-discreetly as they gossiped about his newly discovered shortcomings?

No. None of those things, but in the end, John began to wish she had. For what she actually did was far worse than what his overactive imagination had conjured up.

She quickly glanced at him. And promptly ignored him, passed him over like any other stranger. No reactions. No emotions.

Perhaps she didn’t see him? No, he was sure she had.

Which only meant one thing. She just couldn’t care less. She obviously found him unworthy of consideration. Which ultimately translated into the greatest of all brush offs.

Fuck you and good day.

Though he couldn’t help but slouch low in his seat, a despondent John took meager notes, keeping one one eye on the professor and his monotone lecture, and the other firmly trained upon the object of his desire and lustful fantasies.

He had to snap out of this. He had class to think about, and girls, his 3 girl rations that Craig spoke so excitedly about. And drinking, and parties, and and and…

Marlena.

Hell, should he cave and drop this class now?

No, he would stick it out, and endeavor to overcome this infatuation. After all, he still had 2 more girls to acquire.

:::
“Hey Marlena, isn’t that John sitting over there?” Lexie leaned in marginally and whispered, though by all accounts, she appeared to be engrossed with Doctor Wong’s heavily accented, but informative lecture.

Marlena stalled briefly, but appeared indifferent, “Yes.”

“So, is he still a jerk?”

“Lexie!” She raised her voice slightly. Though she tried to keep her voice as low as possible, those within hearing distance shot her unappreciative looks.

“Just checking..”

And the conversation ceased to be.

But a part of Marlena was still offended by what had happened. That morning alone and confused had left her with an awful feeling, which had soon turned to resentment towards John. Truth was she’d found a growing sense of interest in him, well, at least before she got ditched.

And now, well, she had better things to do. And it was with that sentiment that she happily carved and wrote away on the desk in front of her. And it was with a sense of spite she wished people would read it, him included. Oh how very sweet, though admittedly small, the humiliation would be.

John Black is a fag. ME 202.

Suddenly, her day was feeling much brighter.

:::
John returned to his suite slightly flushed, and a little out of breath. His mind was racing again, and thinking up all sorts of unsettling fancies to brood over. He reached to bite his nails, but found them whittled to stumps from chewing them earlier.

What the hell was his problem? She was a girl. He was a guy. They had a drunken hook up. End of story.

What did it matter that she might possibly hate his guts or think so little of him? Besides, wasn’t it a little early in the year to be stressing about a female, one that he wasn’t even committed to? Hell one he’d barely spoken to, and perhaps had little more in common beside an affinity for sucking face?

So wrapped in thought he was, that he failed to notice Eugene come out of his room and stand before him for almost a full minute, as if waiting for John to finish his internal monologue. A quick chance glance broke John from his thoughts, and he sat a little straighter to appear collected.

But Eugene merely grinned slyly and waggled his eyebrows, “You know John, sexual frustration can be taken out manually,” he gestured to his right hand.

John squinted his eyes in confusion, and hesitated slightly, “What does me shaking your hand accomplish?”

“I mean that you look like you could use a good whack,” Eugene made slight motions with his hands to emulate the suggested activity, “Tom won’t be back for a couple of hours. This is prime masturbating time!” Shaking his head in amusement, Eugene removed his ID card from his pocket, “Anyway, I’m heading down to Plaza to get food. You wanna go?”

“Actually,” John eyed his room speculatively, “I think you had the right idea before. You said 2 hours?”

“Yeah. He’s got physics and some other class back to back.”

“GreatThanksBye,” John rushed and made a mad dash for his room, promptly locking it behind him.

Quite proud of his friendly deed, Eugene whistled an unrecognizable tune quietly to himself, as he began his way slowly towards the dining center, Plaza Cafe.

Well, that was his original intention, at least.

For he took but 2 steps before he came face to face with a girl he immediately deemed as hotter than any of his favorite playboy bunnies. She was short, brunette, and struggling with luggage.

Hello girl ration number 1, “Hey, uh, you need some help there?”

“Jesus, it’s about fucking time someone offered to help me!” she blew at a stray chunk of hair that had managed to slip from it’s ponytail confines. Though her words appeared harsh, her tone revealed a bit of sarcasm and bemusement.

Eugene found it to be most endearing, “Move-in day was last weekend. Aren’t you a bit late?” he rethought his statement, “Actually, you’re ALOT late.”

“My flight was delayed. I just got into San Diego like 2 hours ago.”

“Uh, I see… ” he could honestly care less. But it was one way to make polite conversation. Scrambling to gather as many large bags as he could, he could only ask, “Where to?”

“Suite 450.”

“Hey I know some of the girls in there. Hot girls.”

The girl concentrated on grabbing several small bags and balancing them efficiently, “Really?” she wasn’t all that interested, but asked for the purpose of furthering the conversation.

“Oh, by the way, I’m Gene,” he made to extend his hand, but stopped short as the weight of the large luggage bags stopped him.

Tilting her head coyly, she gave him a smile that was part sincerity, and a bit distrusting, “Hi, I’m Jessica. Jessica Dallow.”

To Be Continued…

The days were dragging along, and the students began to get a feel for their respective schedules. But one dilemma remained. At least that’s what Tara the Meteor Resident Advisor thought. Yeah, the kids were going to class, for the most part, and yeah, they were getting along reasonably well as she hadn’t gotten any complaints in thus far, but it was still early in the year, and as all first year classes to live in these dorms, their interaction undoubtedly only extended to their own suitemates. But no longer, For Tara had devised a fool proof ice-breaker that would have these kids hooking up– er, forging friendships in no time.

Glancing at her small desk clock, and mentally calculating the time with which it would take, she set about doing a quick write-up for the building newsletter. And just in case, she’d send them a quick e-mail with a reminder to attend tomorrow’s building meeting in the lobby as well.

:::
From: “Tara”
To: “undisclosed-recipients”
Sent: Wednesday, October 08, 2002 2:27 AM
Subject: Building Meeting 10/09
Hey guys this is your RA reminding you about tomorrow’s building meeting in the common area. I know some of you guy’s have recently acquired jobs and such, so in order to let everyone be there, I’ve decided to schedule it for 10 pm, so no backing out! Seriously, this would be a great time to get to know some of the people OUTSIDE of your suitemates, so I highly encourage you to come.

Those of you who haven’t paid your building dues, you have until Friday to give me the money. Remember, you don’t HAVE to pay the dues, but if you don’t, you won’t be able to participate in any building trips or activities, seeing as this is essentially money used to entertain YOU. And you can’t get a building shirt either. I know it may not sound like much now, but trust me, it’s worth it.

Now would be a good time to add that I’m ordering several pizzas for tomorrow, but you can’t have any unless you come to the meeting. How’s that for bribery? 😉

Peace Out,
T-Money

:::
The time was minutes to 10, and small packs of students were filing into the building’s common area on the first floor. Some severely overdressed, most likely for the sole purpose of making a good impression and inspiring lust into the hearts of their companions, and some in their sleep attire, and some a bit in between. On a nearby table Tara had placed several boxes of pizza, and the attendees made sure to stop and get their fill before settling into various seats and couches. Once those had been filled, the stragglers had to opt for the floor or various tables around the room. Tara stood near the large television, and waited for everyone to settle a bit and finish their respective conversations, while she studied them. After a moment, she decided then would be a good time to start, “Alright guys, hope you got your pizzas,” she quickly glanced at the table of pizza boxes, “cus it looks like we’re all out. And don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to shove the 4 slices in your pocket Craig,” she gave him a stern eye before continuing with her preplanned topic of discussion, “Alright, like I said in the e-mail to everyone, I know it’s still early in the year, and I know that icebreakers usually tend to suck, but I want to try something else. I did this last year when I was a freshman, and I think it was one of the best things my RA could have done. Has anyone ever heard of the game ‘gotcha?'” She paused a moment to await potential responses, and when she recieved none, continued, “Alright, well the basic premise is that it’s like tag. Each one of you will be assigned one person to tag, but your job is to keep it on the DL and try to tag them. The catch is, they don’t know who’s after them. Once you tag someone, whoever they had as a target becomes your target, and eventually, the number of players should decrease until there is one ultimate winner.” Another pause.

Tom scratched at his chin lightly before raising his hand, “Uh, but what if we don’t know the person we’re supposed to tag?”

“That’s why this game is an icebreaker. You get to know people as you tag them. It forces you to ask around and try to find them out, and in the process you get to know those people.”

John became a bit perplexed at this point as well, “But, how are we supposed to win if we tell people who we have. They could theoretically nark on us and ruin our chances of tagging our targets.”

Tara knew these questions were coming, “Well, yes, but that’s your problem now isn’t it. Just be creative.”

A persistent John continued his line of questioning, “But it seems too easy to loose. I mean, we’re vulnerable at all times. Aren’t there some safeties, or hours that we can’t get tagged, like when we’re sleeping?”

“Actually that brings me to the next point of play. You can only tag someone who is NOT in their own room, or in the bathroom. If they’re in the common areas, someone else’s room, plaza, class, whatever, it’s fair play. And as far as safeties go, everyday there will be a different safety, like say, you have to wear something blue, or hold a spoon, or something equally odd as such. Every morning I will post the safety for that day on my door, so you’ll have to come down every morning to see what it is. But of course, in the interest of keeping the game from stretching into a month long game, which is possible, there will be days where there are no safeties.”

A voice, female, but unidentified, rang out from the back, “And what do we get if we win?”

Placing a hand on her hip, Tara turned to gaze at the crowd, her mouth gaping playfully, “What? Isn’t getting to know your friends and fellow meteor kids, prize enough?”

“Hah!” John laughed, “Hardly! I prefer cash thank you.”

“Alright alright,” Tara threw her hands in mock defeat, “I’ll think of some sort of prize, but in the mean time, I have here a sign up sheet for those who want to play. If you choose to, you must, I repeat, MUST sign up. This is purely voluntary, please remember that.” Several shoulders sagged in relief with that bit of news, “But I promise it’ll be fun. You just have to try.” She gathered her backpack and set down a clipboard with a blank sheet labeled ‘Gotcha Sign-Ups’ on the table with the empty food boxes. “Alright if you guys have any questions later, come to my room and see me. If I’m not there just IM me or leave me a note on the whiteboard on my door. And on that note I think I’ll end this meeting. Hope you all play. See you guys later,” she made to leave to her adjacent bedroom before back tracking a few steps, “Oh yeah, to the guys above me, that would be the suite 200 clan, I suggest you guys turn off the sub woofer during quiet hours, you know the one *right above* my room. Especially when you guys choose to watch your porn.” And with that brief aside, she grinned slightly and left.

In the meantime, excluding those clearly not interested in social activity of any sort, everyone made a beeline for the sign in sheet. Apparently the seemingly rewardless game of gotcha was looking much brighter after all.

:::
Marlena unplugged the slightly heated blow-dryer from the socket and ran her free hand through her gloriously straight hair. It was unfortunate that she couldn’t have been born with it, instead having been fated to have to wrestle with unruly waves and slight curls every morning for the rest of her life. Her mother had always told her that her hair was naturally lovely, but then again, parents were supposed to say things like that to their children; no one ever tells their children they’re ugly, even if it’s true.

She had missed her 9 am class that morning, for the fourth time. Maybe it was a little early to be skipping class, but it was only mathematics, and simple mathematics, or rather, simple calculus at that. Most of what consisted of Math 20A she had already learned and mastered in high school, which allowed her the freedom to miss some class here and there.

And even so, it was becoming more difficult to wake up at any time during the 8-8:30 time range. All the late night visits to other suites and talks with the girls and trips to the local Krispy Kreme and In ‘n’ Out Burger… had more then done it’s job of ensuring she would never again be able to awaken comfortably before noon.

With one last flip of her hair, and a quick tightening of the towel around her slim body, she re-gathered her things and left the bathroom, only to find several of her suitemates and her RA Tara in the suite’s common area, “Whoa there what’s this?” she asked.

Tara turned to her, but kept her eyes down as she filed through several small envelopes in her hands, “Marlena right? Marlena… Marlena Marlena Marlena…” she continued to sort through them until she finally came up the one she was looking for, “here you go. This is your stuff for gotcha. Try not to show it to anyone, as it contains the name of who you’re supposed to tag. And remember to keep this with you at all times, ‘cus you have to have this paper with you when you make the tag. If you don’t it could mean a wasted opportunity.”

Marlena took the envelope in her already full hands, but somehow managed not to drop anything, “Christ, there’s too many rules. I have a feeling I’m going to forget them,” she said to no one in particular and walked the rest of the way to her room. After all, she was in a towel, and it would be a bit strange to just stand there in it.

Dressing quickly into a J.Crew rugby tee, flattering low slung jeans, the ones that satisfyingly revealed her naval piercing, the same one she had concealed from her parents for 2 years thus far, and her favorite reef sandals, she finally took the time to sit down and open the envelope addressed to her. Within it contained the name of her intended victim, and god damnit, she was going to get this sucka‘. Inside she found a yellow post-it note, with two simple words, her target’s name: Brandon Walker.

Alright, that’s fine and dandy. But who the fuck was Brandon Walker?

:::
“Hey John,” Craig shoved his shoulder to fully attract his attention, “Do you know who,” he paused to glance at the name on his own yellow post-it note, “Alexandra Brooks is?”

“You mean Lexie?” John could only laugh, “Dude, you mean you don’t remember? Shit, how could you not?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Craig honestly had no idea, “Uh, should I be worried?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” he quickly recalled the move-in weekend events, “I guess that depends on how bad it is when I tell you that you and this girl hooked up at Jeff’s party.”

“What?!”

“Remember? Move-in weekend? At the Warren Apartments?” The blank look on Craig’s face as he vainly forced his brain to recall events that just weren’t there was indeed genuine. “Whoops. And I hear she likes you too. Hah, so much for our first girl rations huh.”

At that precise moment, the always energetic Eugene burst through the suite door, as usual, “Guys! Tara just posted today’s safety. It’s a stuffed animal. We have to carry a motherfucking stuffed animal! What the hell is she thinking?”

“Yeah, were the hell are we supposed to find stuffed animals?” John added.

There was a brief period of silence before Craig spoke up, “Hey do blow up dolls count?”

Several boys emerged from their rooms to join John, Craig and Eugene in the suite living room at the mention of the words ‘blow up doll.’ Bo Brady was shocked, “You have a blow up doll? Let us see! Let us see!” he called out with a giddiness he hadn’t felt since he saw his first naked girl.

Tom was equally enchanted, “Woah what do you do with? Do you have sex with it? Cuddle it? How does it feel?”

In order to stop any further bombardment of potentially embarrassing questions, Craig spoke loud and quick, “No No No! That’s not how it is! My older brother got it for me before I left for school. You know, like a gag gift. It’s supposed to be funny. As in funny, ha ha.”

John eyed him with a bit of doubt, “I don’t know Wesley, you do kind of have a fixation for all things kinky and sexual.”

“So? The implications of me and a blow up doll…” he trailed off slightly as he received the mental picture of himself with said object, “now, that’s just wrong! On so many levels!”

“Can we still see it?” Eugene began to walk to their shared room, “Man, I’m your roommate and you didn’t tell me? Now you *have* to show me. If only for the purpose of preserving our swell living situation. And hell, I want to see a blow up doll!”

“Alright alright, hold on..” Craig walked rapidly and made quick work of sifting through the large armoire next his bed. It was inflated, though a bit mangled from sitting in the closet for such a time, but one could appreciate it just as well. Stretching it out to its full length, it resembled a woman with blonde hair and a red bathing suit, a removable bathing suit at that. Oh, the wonders of sex toys. Positioning the doll in front of him, so that “she” faced the rest of them, Craig began to playfully gyrate his hips and emulate sexual noises, “Unh Unnh Unnnhhh!”

The strong chorus of laughter could be heard down in the quad below as the boys bellowed their amusement until their bellies began to ache from the exertion.

Wiping a stray tear from his eye, John wordlessly put his hand out to receive the rubber toy, “Hey, is it cool if I use this to decorate the place?”

“I guess so. It’s not like I’m going to use it,” Craig looked around, “No really, I’m not going to use it,” he added for reassurance.

With some industrial strength tape he had in his desk, John took the inflatable doll and subsequently taped it to the outside suite door, for all outsiders to see, “It’ll be like a talisman. A mascot if you will.”

Once the excitement settled down, the original worries concerning a certain safety for a certain game returned to the forefront, “Alright then, all we have to do is hunt down the most sickly sweet girl we can find, and take all her stuffed animals. At least for today,” Tom rationalized, “But the real challenge is finding said girl.”

Bo volunteered a solution quickly, “I think I know one. Well, she certainly has potential to be one. And I certainly can imagine her with loads of stuffed animals on her bed.”

“Who?”

“Hope Williams. She’s kind of… flaky? I don’t know. Naive maybe? Childish? I mean she’s cute and sweet and all, but that’s precisely my point. She still acts kind of girly.”

“Perfect!” John exclaimed, “Now all you have to do is sleep with her, and while she’s basking in the post coital glow, you can run away with all her stuffed animals.”

“Or maybe I could just ask her.”

“Ok, that too. But I still think my idea is better.”

:::
And so the game continued, some persevered, some fell victim early on to the more ruthless players of the game, each looking to solidify a name for themselves in ‘Gotcha’ glory.

Marlena, however, was having a most difficult time with Brandon Walker. After a bit of snooping and asking, she had determined he lived in the 400 suite, which was on the 4th floor just across from her own suite. She had snooped in his room and glanced at photos of what she assumed was him, thus giving her a clear mental picture of his appearance. Should have been simple enough, no? Tag and move on. Except Marlena wasn’t accounting for the fact that Mr. Walker hardly ever spent the night in his own suite, most likely because of a girlfriend, and was even less likely to be found hanging out in the common area paling around with his suitemates.

Quite the jerk. Why agree to play if you weren’t going to be there to actively participate?

No, she knew the answer to that. He probably thought he could tough it out and discreetly sneak away while everyone else was slowly eliminated, leaving him until the end. Quite a novel plan, she had to admit, but not much fun for her.

Resigning herself to another victoryless day, she walked the short distance to plaza cafe for a quick lunch before her cognitive science class, grabbing a bottled water and a small bread bowl of clam chowder. As she moved to line herself up to pay for her things with her meal card, she happened to glance across the room and made eye contact with a well groomed unknown male. She began to return the smile he gave her, when her brain made the connection.

The photos.

The name on the post-it note.

Brandon Walker.

Shit! That was Brandon Walker.

Keeping calm and flirtatious, she paid for her things and made to move to a table that was in his direct line of sight. Clearly intrigued, he followed, until he was before her, holding is hand out in an introductory fashion.

“Hey, I’m Brandon,” he smiled easily, as he peered down at her from lowered lashes.

Giving him a firm shake in return, her smile was most enthusiastic, “Gotcha!” Several students that were ‘in the know’ heard her proud proclamation, and applauded her for her fine catch.

“Huh?” he took back his hand, and it was then he noticed the yellow post-it note stuck to his palm, with his name written on it, “Oh fuck, I can’t believe this! I hang out at Plaza for the first time in days and this is what happens?” Reaching into his pocket, he produced his own card, “It’s all good though. Good game, good game.” And walked away.

Finally! She was that much closer to winning. The game had been progressing quickly, and she had heard there were only a handful of people left. Now there was one less.

And pity the fool that was her next target.

But the excitement died the moment she read the name.

John Black. The cute jerk.

Reflecting a bit, she saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Getting him and winning was going to be quite sweet.

:::
“Gotcha!” John screamed barbarically as he slammed his palm down upon the shoulder of an unsuspecting Jess Dallow. Rather than appear disappointed, she merely rubbed her tired eyes, and shrugged. She hadn’t slept in several days, so being eliminated from the game was the least of her worries. Though slightly tempted to awaken and flirt heavily with him, her stupor overmastered any physical desires she may have had. Jess pulled her yellow paper from beneath her backpack, at the moment doubling as a psuedo pillow whilst she slept away at the computer lab, and handed it wordlessly before slouching back to her former position, searching for the warm spot her head had momentarily vacated, and quickly resumed her precious sleep.

Ah. The smell of success, John’s senses alerted him. Another one down, another to go. Though severely thrashed and creased, the writing was still very much legible, but it didn’t stop him from needing a second opinion.

Shoving Jessica again, he asked a bit tentatively, “Uh, hey buddy, what’s that say?”

Annoyed at being awoken again for the second time in as many minutes, she grumbled, “Uuuuhhh .. Mar-Mr…Marlena Evans,” her sleep slurred voice struggled to say the words, and once satisfied with her own efforts, Jess closed her eyes and returned to that nice place where java programming and advanced differentiation had died a thousand deaths.

John could only slouch in response, his mood despondent, “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid it said.”

:::
They avoided each other. Well, John did most of the avoiding. And Marlena did most of the avid hunting.

By now everyone knew of the final two players left, and were quite eager to see the outcome. Eventually they grew restless, and Tara did the only thing she could. She lifted the safeties and rules.

Which meant Marlena was free to stalk into his room while he slept, or barge through in the middle of his shower, or God forbid, other personal activities.

Shame she had to resort to such drastic measures. It would be so much easier if he didn’t try so hard to avoid her. What was he afraid of? Seeing her? Or was it just the prospect of losing? Either way, she had to think, and fast.

As she contemplated her position, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned to get a better look. There, in the short distance, was John struggling with the combination on his mail box. Finally she had been granted a respite! Though compelled to run, Marlena opted to walk slowly and as much out of his line of sight as possible, so as to not scare him away, or perhaps lead him to strike her with his own card first.

And closer and closer she went, until she was just inches behind him, ready to pounce as a swift criminal in the night. But as she went to grab her paper weapon, she felt empty pockets, and realized she had somehow either lost it, or regrettably left it in her room in that morning’s haste to rush to class.

Before she could react, John turned quickly, and grinned at her crookedly. There they stood, and neither moved. What must the other be thinking, they each wondered. Finally, John broke the stalemate and raised his hand as if to end the game. She knew it was coming. And she had lost.

But rather than what she had expected, he had merely gone to gather her delicate hand in his, and in motion with his own, raised it to his chest, where hands together, they slapped that yellow post-it note upon his chest. Confused, Marlena took a close look, and what she saw made her melt at the thoughtfulness.

For he had erased her name and written his own. He had thrown the game for her, because he couldn’t bear to see her lose. Because he couldn’t stand to alienate her further. And because damnit, there was just something mystical that had compelled him to do so.

From his head he removed his hat, the same one they had so playfully wrestled each other for on that intriguing Saturday night which seemed so long ago, and placed it on her own. To the victor go the spoils, he reasoned. And without another word, he walked away proud, for he’d done a good and noble deed, and maybe just a tad bit full of hope.

And Marlena smiled. And maybe, just maybe, John Black wasn’t such a jerk after all.

To Be Continued…
Page 6 of 10On a cool Friday afternoon, Marlena emerged from her cognitive science discussion section; not an official lecture, but more of a supplementary class used to enforce the lecture material. Not many people went to discussion, for any given class, but every now and then Marlena found it useful, especially when she was lacking in actual lecture attendance.

But for a moment, she wished she hadn’t attended. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have gotten herself so riled up, quite rare as it was generally against her nature to express anger. But now she fumed and decided to harness that energy and put it to use, like studying, as she was sure she wasn’t going to later. It was the eve of her 18th birthday, and though she wasn’t one to assume things, she was sure her roommates were planning something, especially once she had caught them conspiring in secret upon the balcony, a conversation which ceased to be once they noted her presence. But she knew when to be a good sport, and dumbly turned a blind eye, so as to not arouse them of her suspicions.

Eventually she found herself at Geisel library, and upon entering searched for a familiar face. Moments later she spotted Eugene Bradford and Craig Wesley, who both appeared to be working rather diligently on mathematical calculations. Sitting in the chair across from Craig, they both finally glanced up, as the slight shudder of the table alerted them to another human presence.

“Hey Marlena,” Craig started casually, but upon noting her sour mood, decided to question, “What’s wrong? Tough day?”

“Not really, more like just extremely annoyed,” she began to remove things from her backpack in a rather brusque manner, “Now I remember why I don’t like to go to classes, especially discussions. There are some *dumb* people out there.”

Eugene could sympathize, “Don’t I know it,” he made a point to stare teasingly at Craig, who gave him the finger in return, “Hey fuck you.”

And Marlena continued, “And its not that I think I’m any smarter than them, but oh my God, DUMB DUMB DUMB,” she leaned in towards them, “Take for instance this girl in my cog sci 1 class. She completely disagreed with me during our cloning and artificial insemination debate, which doesn’t make her dumb, but ohhhh man.”

“So?” Craig prompted.

Well,” Marlena licked her lips, “She said she thought in vitro fertilization was morally wrong and same with fertilization drugs, as she was all about leaving things in the hands of nature. When I asked her if in eight years she was married and wanted to have kids and she couldn’t biologically, if she wouldn’t explore any biological options, but she said she’d just adopt.”

Eugene put his calculator down, now somewhat interested in her story, “What’s wrong with artificial means? And wouldn’t that mean she’s against medication? What the fuck.”

“I mean, that’s good for her, to have such strong opinions, but as much as she was holistic about this shit, it turns out she’s a premed and wants to be a pediatrician.” Marlena began to retell the discussion:

“So how are you going to feel about having to prescribe medication you feel morally opposed to?”

“Well, I know its something that i have to do…” the girl’s voice trailed off, leaving Marlena to wonder if you’re still a hypocrite if you admit that you’re hypocritical.

Saved by the TA, “What if you shattered your hip? Would you choose not to replace it?”

“No, because that’s just bettering my condition. I’m not making people in an unnatural way.”

“So,” Marlena asked, “well, what about the painter Frida Kahlo? She was in an accident and a pole practically ripped out her uterus and so she couldn’t have kids. She got really depressed because of it. In our times would she be justified in seeking artificial means of conception because she wasn’t born that way, as it just happened to her?”

The girl paused to think, “Frida Kahlo was crazy anyway. All her paintings had blood in them and stuff.”

Marlena gaped with incredulity, “Ok, *why* did you just start bagging on Frida Kahlo? It’s totally an arguable statement.”

“Pshhh, people piss me off,” Marlena griped her pencil in such a way that it seemed possible to snap in half.

“Nah, don’t worry about that shit,” Craig tried to reassure her in his own way, “I’m sure by this time next year she’ll have changed her major to communications. Think of it as your revenge.”

The thought made Marlena smile, “So what are *you* two doing here,” she stilled and rethought her statement, “Well, I know what Eugene’s doing here, but Craig, I’m very surprised to see you at the library.”

“Hey I resent that implication. Contrary to popular belief, I *do* in fact study,” Craig picked up his textbook to show her that it was indeed a genuine physics book, an identical one to Eugene’s.

“Ooooooh, physics, what a surprise,” Marlena deadpanned, “Eugene, I swear it’s like your thought process is just: ‘Physics, Physics, Physics, my cock, my cock, physics, physics, food, my cock, physics, physics…'”

Craig laughed unexpectedly, and nodded his agreement. An unamused Eugene looked to Marlena, seemingly disturbed, “Ugh, Jerk. I hope all your upper division bio classes are all actually physics classes. Buahahaha.”

“Eugene, bio and physics are totally different.”

“No they’re not, not if you’re trying to find out how fast the blood is squirting out.”

“Why do you need that?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged, before answering again, “To make sure you can get out of the way in time? Oh! And where to stand so you don’t get hit with blood.”

“Hah!” Marlena chuckled lightly, “and weren’t we just talking about dumb people?”

Eugene scowled, “You’ll be sorry one day,” he returned his attention to his assignment, “Besides, I’m always doing physics for purely selfish reasons.”

Marlena raised a curious brow, “Oh?”

“Stephen Hawking said discovering a new theory is like an orgasm, but better and a lot longer.”

“Well hopefully it would be,” she smiled, looking to Craig.

“Maybe that’s why all the smart scientists are super horny,” Craig reasoned, “Like Feynman and Einstein were masters of pimping.”

Marlena raised her hands dramatically, “Dah! I need to study! God, you two are the worst studiers ever. I might as well go back to my dorm. It’s obvious I’m not going to get anything done,” carefully re-gathering her things, she arranged them in her backpack, before sliding it on, “Bye guys. Good luck with the orgasms.”

“See you tonight then?” Craig asked casually.

“Huh? Tonight?”

“Yeah, tonight! For the-OW!!” any further speaking Craig would have done was promptly interrupted by Eugene, who was non-discreetly kicking Craig in the shins.

“So we can all go to plaza and eat!” Eugene finished, “Right Craig?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Curiouser and curiouser, Marlena retreated back to Revelle, her suspicions stronger than ever.

:::
“So Kate, are you down for tonight?” Lexi put several finishing touches on a poorly wrapped present.

“Yeah, but we’re gonna have to take your car,” Kate mumbled a bit, as her attention was directed to her computer, or more accurately, AIM, “I’ve got a bunch of metal rods in my back seat.”

Jessica choose that moment to walk in, “Ooh, metal rods, eh? What’re they for?” She proceeded to emulate sexual noises, “Unh, unh, unnnhhhh.”

“You would think that, wouldn’t you, you dirty girl,” Kate shook her head, “They belong to SR-TV. I’m supposed to take them to Mandeville Theater tomorrow.”

“You know, it’s a shame we’re going to miss Victor’s party tonight,” Lexi stopped to admire her handy-work, then began to pick up the mess she had left behind.

“Who’s Victor?” Jessica began to eat from a bag of chips on Kate’s bed, to which Kate silently heeded warning: crumbs on the bed could lead to possible death.

“He’s a guy who was in my orientation group, and in my chem discussion. He lives in Disco Hall,” She thought about it for a moment, “but, if when we get back, and the party hasn’t been broken up yet, we could always stop by.”

Suddenly the sound of the suite door and the sound of Marlena’s approaching voice had them scrambling to put evidence away and running to greet her, “Hey Marlena, we’re going out tonight, so be ready by nine.”

“Wait!” Marlena called, “Where are we going? How should I dress?”

“Um, can’t tell you, and slutty.”

:::
“So when can I take the blindfold off?” Marlena whined. It had been an uneventful trip, made worse with the blindfold wrapped tight around her eyes. She had complied with the requests; was ready at nine, or close to it, and dressed in a tastefully slutty outfit, such as one could hope to be, in extremely low hung tan suede pants and a black halter top that ended several inches above her naval.

They had driven for what Marlena had estimated to be half an hour, and then walked another 10 minutes, before hailing several taxis, as the group was rather large. Quite an odd method of travel, Marlena couldn’t help but wonder, but kept her comments to herself.

Once back on her feet and out in the open, her senses were assaulted by the stench of stale cigarettes and wet concrete, her ears confused as they picked up several different types of music from all directions. And no sooner did she start to voice her concerns, did John remove her blindfold, and allow her to see for herself. The lights blinded her for several moments, and once adjusted she realized she was standing in front of a jungle themed club called Safari. In Tijuana. In Mexico.

“You guys took me to TJ??” she blushed her excitement, and doubled over as she felt the rush of anticipation, making her tremble.

“Surprise!” Several of them voiced, “It was John’s idea, though,” Hope clarified.

Looking at him, she mouthed her thanks shyly, and he nodded acknowledgement.

Once they paid their cover charge, and were felt up by Mexican bouncers for weapons, they entered the dimly light club, made exotic by the variation of colors and lighting effects, both typical and unique. The air was hot and moist, made so from the absurdly large number of people, making it hard to maneuver anywhere. Though they were most certainly in downtown Tijuana, the crowd was almost completely American, and most likely of collegiate persuasion.

Several drinks later, and several seemingly amorous, but purely sexually driven encounters with other patrons left the crowd beginning to thin out, and everyone regrouping as they began to make arrangements to leave.

“Arrr,” Tom complained, “I’m not even drunk yet!” Referring to the fact that the bar refused to serve drinks after midnight.

“Hey I think we should go to Victor’s party, I’m sure it’s still going. It’s only 2.”

Idea approved, they gathered their things and made a small kitty of money for the taxi, “And remember, when we get to the border, no one act drunk!” John reminded, before falling into step with Marlena.

“So,” he nudged her, “Happy Birthday! How does it feel to be legal?”

“I don’t know,” she fanned her face, hot from exertion, “Really good, but a little sad, like I’m growing up, you know?”

“Yeah, but look on the bright side,” he put his arm around her comfortably, “you can do porn legally now!”

As he smiled down on her, Marlena noticed something intriguing. “Hey, you have nice ..” the rest was drowned slightly by a swell of cheer from passing partiers.

John did a double take, and brought her closer, “Did you say nipples?”

“No, I said DIMPLES!”

Looking at her slightly suspicious, he decided he liked what he saw, “Hey, I didn’t get any ass tonight, so I might as well get with you.”

“John, that’s the shittiest come on EVER,” she rolled her eyes slightly, “So why do you insist on drinking so much, huh?”

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” he motioned her closer, “Beer, makes the chicks waaaaay better. Remember, perception is 9/10 of reality.” And so back to the States they went.

:::
Once safely back in the United Sates, and on campus grounds, several bid their good-byes and retired for the night, and others decided they hadn’t had enough. Despite the early hour, a now smaller group arrived at Victor Kiriakis’ suite in Discovery Hall, to find several people in the final stages of entertainment.

“Hey! Birthday Girl!” Tom called, “You have to take a shot for every birthday you’ve ever had,” he decided to sweeten the pot a bit, “I’ll even buy you a burger tomorrow.”

“Haha, that’s fucked up. Tom, you can’t buy me a burger if I’m dead!” A sudden jerking movement to her left almost caused her to spill her rum and coke. John stood quickly but stalled soon after, as if attempting to identify some internal mystery.

A tingling sensation in his lower body began to bother him, and he soon realized he had to pee. Beginning to unzip his pants, he began to circle around the suite, searching for something to relieve himself in. Victor spotted him, and misinterpreting his intentions, went to stop him, “Hey hey, no puking, especially on the carpet, the maid doesn’t come on the weekends, remember?”

“Hey man it’s cool, I’m just gonna piss in your garbage can, its cool,” John stumbled slightly, making his way across the room, before turning around, “I’m not one of them,” he pointed to Tom and Marlena, “a puker.”

Minutes later a very angry unidentified girl hollered her way through the crowd, “Alright, which one of you disgusting drunks pissed on our balcony!”

Victor’s head shot up, “What? Someone pissed in our balcony?”

“No! My balcony! I live below in 350.”

“I’m sorry, I do not know who could have possibly been pissing on your balcony,” he tried his hardest to maintain a serious demeanor, but a smile would tease the edges of his lips and eventually become known, “Like I said, we are just playing power pad on the Nintendo.”

Looking around, Maggie could find no evidence of said power pad, and threatened retaliation, “Listen you ass, I’m going to call the RSO’s on you, so you better start getting your stories straight!”

“Oh eat a dick, bitch,” Victor called out, “You know what? Get the fuck out of our suite. You are officially banned from our suite.” With a ungentlemanly grasp of her arm, he began to escort her to the door, but before closing the door on her, he leaned in to whisper to her, “Hey, you know you can still redeem yourself. Of course it’ll cost you a blow job. Sound fair?”

At her disgusted look, he shook his head, “Don’t say I never gave you a chance!” and promptly closed the door.

“Damn, I didn’t get any ass tonight Marlena, why is that?” john turned to her, genuinely interested in any forthcoming response.

“I really cant picture you with any girl. At least not permanently,” Marlena played with the rim of her red cup, “Just a big can of grolch.”

“Oh Marlena, you wound me!” John made to put his hand on his chest, and groan as if speared through the heart, “Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know what it is exactly,” she struggled to find the right words, “you have the distinct reputation of being that other guy but hey, it works for you.”

“What?” John became further puzzled.

“You know, the one jocking the girl with the boyfriend. And the girl is generally quite taken with you and wants your nuts,” she took a sip.

John nodded slowly, understanding all over his face, “True dat.”

A sudden yawn from Marlena made her realize how tired she was, “Ok, I think I’ve had enough substance abuse for one night. I think I’m going to crawl my way back to my dorm now.”

“Hey, do you want me to go with you?” A sudden desire to offer his services forced him into action.

Thinking back unto last time, but deciding to ignore it, she nodded, “Yeah that would be cool, but you don’t *have* to.”

“Naw, it’s cool. Besides, all the alcohol is gone.”

“Oh you say the sweetest things.”

The trip to Meteor was quick, only made difficult by having to walk up several flights of stairs to reach Marlena’s suite. Fumbling with her key and opening the door was also proving to be quite the task, “God I’m too drunk to be alive,” she breathed, slightly in awe of her ability to function at all at this point.

Once inside, she jerked around a bit, struggling to make her way in the darkness, helped slightly by John who was decidedly more coherent, but only marginally so. Deciding to forgo the task of changing into her bed clothes, despite the fact that she smelled of singed hair and ashtrays, she slid in quickly under her down comfortor, before looking to John, who loomed above her.

“Thank you for today,” she truly appreciated the effort, “You didn’t have to plan all this.”

“No, I wanted to. Call it an apology,” he spoke in hushed tones and smoothed the creases in her comforter.

“Well, then, apology accepted.”

And the period of silence that followed called to them both. They realized they were at a turning point, but where it was taking them, neither knew. The moment, this perfect moment, the moon light, the faint crickets in the distance, urged him, and he knew he had to give into his impulses. And so he leaned forward, closer and closer, until the feel of her soft lips met his, sobering him.

And slowly still, he moved away to look at her, bathed in shades of gray and blue, to find her sleeping, and he wondered whether she would remember this instant, or think it a dream. Brushing the hair away from her forehead, he leaned in to whisper, “Happy birthday…” before taking his leave.

:::
Despite the early morning, or more accurately, before noon on a Saturday morning, a well groomed and fresh Lexi sat in the common area, watching television and chatting casually with Victor, while doing a decidedly poor job of going over chemistry notes.

Too bad you couldn’t stay long last night, you missed some good shit!” Victor reminisced, “The people in your building are pretty crazy! Lots of interesting characters there.”

“Yeah, I was really tired after TJ, and just wanted to pass out. Besides, my racial handicap prevents me from drinking to the standard of the average Caucasian lush my age.”

“Still, you missed a good time. Turns out there was this Jewish girl at our party. She was wearing an all-out grandma’s dress, something a mom would make her little girl wear to church, you know?” he laughed a little, “All white, skirt down below her knees. Kinda sexy though, in this strange puritan way. It was weird! But that girl smoked more pot that night than I’ve seen in a very long time. I think I saw her sleeping on our couch before I left this morning.”

The loud creek of the front door gave way to a frazzled, deathly suitemate. “Hey! That’s the girl!” Victor pointed to her.

Lexi could not resist the opportunity to laugh at her suitemate’s expense, “So Jessica, how does it feel to have taken the walk of shame?”

“I wanted to sleep in my bed, I just couldn’t,” was the rebuttal, “It’s hard to find your bed after 16 beers. Arrrr, my head hurts like.. a.. hurting thing.” Going to her room, she soon realized the door would not give her entrance. The door was locked, “Ok, Isabella is going to die. That bitch locked the door!” She fumed, “Where the hell is she? I need a bed!”

“Uh oh,” Lexi avoided looking into Jessica’s eyes, “I think she went home for the weekend. You’re going to have to go to Reslife and have the RA on duty unlock the door.”

“Oh, but I’m too… tired… can’t… walk..” she bemoaned her predicament.

“Hey, Nancy went home too. I’m pretty sure the door’s unlocked, and Marlena’s in there. Just sleep on Nancy’s bed.”

And she did just that. Though she did her best to get into Nancy’s bed without a sound, her efforts were in vain as the sound of a cell phone broke the quiet.

The faint sound of ringing, steadily growing louder and louder, awoke Marlena from her deep slumber. With a scowl she extended an arm to search the top of her desk, until she came into contact with an abject that was decidedly in the shape of her phone. Her limbs seemed of lead and her head swam with unorganized thoughts. So this is what is was to greet a new day drunk. Oddly pleasant.

“Hello?” she barely managed, her voice hoarse from a night of abuse.

“Good morning Marlena!” Her cheery mother’s voice came through, a bit too loud for Marlena’s comfort, “Happy birthday!”

Marlena rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and smiled a bit at her mother’s thoughtfulness, “Thank you.”

“So,” her mother continued, “How does it feel to be eighteen?”

It soon became too much of an effort for her to sit up, as she slumped back into the warm spot of her bed, “Uuum… groggy and disoriented,” her speech muffled slightly by her pillows.

The sound of her mother’s laughter warmed her heart, “I said eighteen, not hung-over.”

“Haha, same thing,” and upon further reflection, she realized how true that was.

To Be Continued…
Page 7 of 10″Hmm, ok, well basically your computer seems really fucked up.”

“But it’s *new*.”

“Doesn’t matter. You need to send it to rehab, where we have lots of chill pills. And when it’s chillin’, we will reformat.”

Marlena chewed on her lower lip for a moment, considering what Eugene was telling her, “I guess. But all my mp3’s! The hell with the labs and stuff. We need to save the mp3’s!” Her eyes were wide with worry, “Do you know the effort it took me to amass all of them? And my Dave Matthew’s ones! Oh I feel faint..”

“Ok, we’ll back up your files on my computer then-” he was about to say more, when his senses alerted him to another presence. Expecting Nancy, he turned and saw Jessica. All conscious thought left him, as he openly stared, quite noticeably too.

“Hey Marlena,” she had a distinctively annoyed air about her, “When you see Nancy, can you tell her to take her nasty hot pot out of the suite? It’s starting to look and smell really disgusting. Shit, do I look like her mother? She needs to start cleaning up after herself.”

“Wait, I thought the maid used to do our dishes.”

“She used to, out of the kindness of her cleaning lady heart, but apparently she’s not supposed to, and Isabella told her not to do our dishes anymore. Something about it being unfair,” she crossed her arms in defiance, “Yeah, but I don’t see Isabella cleaning anything. Hypocrisy, I tell you.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell her..” she replied, absent-mindedly running her hands through her hair. Turning back to Eugene, Marlena noticed a far away look in his eye. As discreetly as possible, she cleared her throat to remind him of current priorities, but when that didn’t work, she chose to instead punch him in the left gut.

His eyes go went with shock, “Oof! What the hell was that all about?”

“You were checking her out.”

“No I wasn’t,” he replied, perhaps a bit too quickly, “I was merely concentrating a bit too hard on your computer issues.”

Marlena isn’t so sure, “You like her?”

Shrugging a bit, he deferred to her nonchalantly, “I’d hit it.”

Marlena was sure he was lying. But she liked Gene, and found his companionship to be pleasant. And now, she would repay the favor. Suddenly, an idea, a clever one at that, came to her, “Take her to semi.”

“To what?”

“The Revelle Semi-Formal,” she clarified, “Don’t you read the newsletters Tara sends us?”

“Not really. Unless she’s sending naked pictures of herself, I’m not reading.” He put down the screwdriver he was tooling with, “Besides, I don’t dance.”

“Gene, you are anti-nature.”

“Nature is full of injustice,” he shook his head, “And I don’t buy Simba’s ‘circle of life’ bullshit about it.”

“In that case,” Marlena didn’t relent, “security is going to be especially tight. So, if you’re thinking of rigging a bucket of pig’s blood to the rafters, well, you can just forget it.”

“That’s not a problem,” he raised his voice for emphasis, “Because I’m NOT GOING.” Satisfied that he had proven his point efficiently, he went back to tinkering with Marlena’s computer. Unfortunately, she had snagged him into a ridiculous train of thought, and he couldn’t help but wonder.

“Are you going?”

Marlena was taken off guard, as Gene shifted the focus unto her, “Uh, well, I-uh, I..” she stuttered for several beats, “See, normally, I have no trouble in, you know, the guy department. But here, it’s different. Everyone’s so afraid to approach one another.”

“Maybe you’re losing your looks.”

Marlena frowned, “That’s not funny.” She turned to look at her desk-side mirror, “You think I’m losing my looks?” She wondered absently.

“Yeah. A face-lift will fix you right up,” he smiled the first smile since the start of their conversation, “No, don’t worry, you’re as hot as ever.”

“You know that I sort of hooked up with John, right?”

Eugene kept his face impassive, but he did not lie to her, “More or less.”

“..And?…” unsatisfied with his cryptic statements, she attempted to draw more from him.

“-and, nothing. I know about welcome week, and that’s about it,” he noticed her expression and realized she was perhaps fishing for vital information about his suitemate, “Listen Marlena, I don’t mean to be vague, but I can’t help that. John’s not a very emotional person, and rarely lets us know what’s on his mind.”

Her face dampened a bit, and could not contain the sigh that left her, “I know, but-“

“Although,” he realized suddenly, “If anyone would know anything about John, it’d be Craig. Those two are like a gay couple minus the butt sex.”

Marlena laughed at the image her tired mind conjured for her, “I suppose that would be a good idea,” but not to undone, Marlena skillfully returned to the previous topic of discussion, though more to relieve herself of the discomfort and anxiety the topic of John brings her, “As for you, I think now is a good time to start operation: Get Gene a Date.”

Eugene stilled, and sniffed his armpits for reassurance, “Why? What’s wrong with me?”

Marlena ran her fingers through his slightly longish hair, “For one, you need a haircut, and two, you need to stop wearing those Counterstrike shirts,” her critical eyes narrowed a bit, “and you need new jeans.”

He groaned his disgust, but didn’t argue.

Satisfied that she had him within her artistic hands, she bid him one more question, “So what have we learned today?”

“That apparently you have to spend $60 on jeans to not look like a gay cowboy?”

Her brow lift in amusement, “Very good. I’m taking you shopping tomorrow after my last class. In the meantime, I’m going to find Craig. Is it okay to leave you here to fix my computer?”

“Sure. He should be at plaza right now, just so you know. He normally eats lunch right after math.”

She was already to the door by the end of his sentence.

:::
Picking up a tray, she surveyed the various food stations.

The grill: Did she really want a burger? No, not really. A grilled cheese sandwich? No, not quite. Seasoned fries? Well, those were good. There’s always room for potatoes! She made a mental note to return for fries in the event that she couldn’t find anything else to her liking.

Next stop, the Pick-up Stix Chinese station: broccoli beef and noodles. She mentally drooled at the thought. Marlena made a second mental note to override the desire for fries, and to replace it with Chinese food.

The third stop in her path was a rotisserie. Her mind flashed red alert as it reminded her of her intense dislike for chicken in general. And mashed potatoes too. Sometimes there wasn’t room for potatoes after all.

Lastly, she reached the “miscellaneous” arena, where the food tended to change from day to day. There were an assortment of soups and such, and suddenly, at the sight of marginally more healthier foods, her previous desires washed away, as she thought about the 5 pounds she had put on. Resigned, she opted for a clam chowder and bottled water.

Yes, now she would not feel quite so guilty or gluttonous.

Once she had paid with her meal points, she set out to search for one Craig Wesley. The Dining hall was vastly large, but even so, she was able to spot him fairly easily as it was not full, and people were easy to spot in the sea of empty chairs. As if sensing he was being watched, Craig glanced up from what Marlena assumed are class notes, and smiled an invitation for her to join him.

Not that she needed his permission, she thought humorously, but it was better that she not feel she was disturbing him. Because his backpack and various other school paraphernalia were scattered across the space from him, Marlena chose to sit next to him.

They ate in silence for a small time, and Craig was the one to break it, “So how are you? Haven’t really seen you since your birthday,” he took bites of food during his bout of silence.

“Nothing really. Studying and all that,” she was casual, “Though it might interest you to know that I’m making plans to turn Eugene into a babe.”

Craig laughed his surprise, “Did I hear that right?”

“Yes!” her face told him she is serious, “I’m going to help him get a date for Semi.”

Comprehension dawned on him, “Oh, the Semi.” It was beginning to make sense, but one thing nagged at him, “Why?”

“Because Gene’s a nice guy, and one of my suitemate’s is on his laminated list.”

Though he did not understand the reference to said list, Craig didn’t ask, “And are you going?”

“Actually that’s what I came to talk to you about,” Marlena began, but her voice trailed off, as though she was suddenly hesitant to continue.

Craig stiffened slightly, and became noticeably anxious, “Oh, wait. I see where this is going. Hey, Marlena, no offense, but no way. I mean, what are you thinking?”

“Huh?”

“I can’t do that to John, I mean, it’s like they say, ‘Bros before hos.”

“Wait Craig, I think you mis-“

Suddenly, she became alert to another presence, and looked up to see John and Isabella walking into Plaza together. They were laughing comfortably, and seemed to be engaging in light conversation. And then for a moment, he looked her way, and their eyes connected, sustaining a strong gaze.

He took in the way Marlena and Craig seemed to be leaning into one another, and began to overanalyze the situation. He briefly wondered if perhaps he was reading too much into things, but the twin looks of startle on both their faces confirmed his suspicions. He was intruding upon an intimate moment, and his proposed courtship of Marlena was over before it had even started.

Isabella, not at all oblivious to the situation, decided to capitalize on Marlena’s apparent misfortune, “Hey John, tickets for Semi go on sale at the Price center box office tomorrow. Come with me?”

It was rather unfortunate that he was not paying attention, but he nodded in the affirmative unthinkingly, prompting Isabella to squeal her joy. The sound brought John out of his stupor, “Huh?”

But the damage was done, and Marlena and Craig had witnessed the exchange, and were privy to the knowledge. Marlena’s face fell a bit, but resolved to not be upset about it. After all, how could one be upset at someone who had no ties to you.

“Hey Marlena?”

“Yeah?” she picked at her soup with less of an appetite than she started with.

“I’ll go with you,” Craig said simply, and went back to scribbling more illegible notes in his folder. How casual of him, she thought.

“No really, I’m fine, you don’t have to-” she prattled on quickly.

Interrupting her soundly, he looked at her seriously, “No, really, I want to.”

And that was that.

:::
Eugene walked quickly through the Revelle grounds, on his way to the computer lab to get in some quality programming time away from his room. No, the dorms were not suited for any type of studying whatsoever. John and Bo had been playing a tempting game of DOA Xtreme Beach Volleyball on the good ol’ xbox, but he decided to sacrifice virtual bikini girls in acknowledgement of his 11:59 pm lab deadline.

The lab was mostly empty, and silent, save for the sound of multiple typing. He set his eyes on a computer off to the far left corner, where he would likely find less distractions, away from the small groups of giggling girls, and those with headphones so loud it defeated the purpose of using them.

Turning the corner at the end of the table, he saw Jessica, typing away with quick speed and determination. Looks like he wasn’t the only one with a deadline.

He debated internally, should he stop and say hello or leave her in peace?

His selfish desires won out, deciding it would be a good opportunity to introduce himself, seeing as his interactions were limited to just Marlena, and occasionally Nancy.

“Uh-hey, uh-Jess?” he stammered slightly, but not noticeably so.

“Hmmm?” she murmured, though not paying attention. Whatever it was that was on the screen certainly had her entranced.

Glancing at her window, lines of text jumped out at him, and he began to read discreetly:

Joey laid nervously on his bed, her body trembling softly. It had never been like this with Dawson before, but for that matter it hadn’t been like this with Pacey for the year or so they were together. She closed her eyes as the weight of his body melted onto the bed–

He began to read aloud, “-his touch sending searing vibes through her body. ‘Jo, I love you,’ he whispered,” Gene was thoroughly confused.

At the sound of his voice, reading her Dawson’s Creek fan fiction no less, she shot out of her seat, her eyes wide like saucers, and mouth agape in shock, “Oh my god! Gene. What are you doing,” she spoke quickly.

“I came here to do my lab,” he explained, “I saw you here, so I thought I’d say hi.” He couldn’t help but ask, “Um, what was that you were working on?”

Turning around, she closed all the windows and ejected her floppy disk, “Nothing, it was just something for one of my classes,” she glanced at the clock, “Yeah I’m gonna go now. Bye.” And all but ran out of the building.

“Well, that was weird,” he mused.

:::
“Marlena, are you *sure* you know how to cut hair?” Gene was sitting as still as he could, hoping she had a steady hand.

She was honest with him, “No,” she breathed, but that didn’t faze her, “But Gene, how hard can it be to cut guy hair? It’s not like there’s all that much to cut off.”

“Not that much you say? Than why cut it at all?”

“Because it’ll still make a big difference that’s why,” she held a longish strand between two fingers. *Snip* *Snip* *Snip*

A short agonizing time later, the sound of the clipping stopped, and Marlena stepped back to admire her work, “Wow, Gene, you could actually pass as hot,” she teased.

“Thank you for that vote of confidence,” he commented wryly. Turning around in the bathroom, he gazed into the large wall mirror. He had to admit, he looked damn good, “Shit I’m dead sexy.”

“Ok let’s not get carried away here,” she laughed, “We still have to get clothes for you,” she mentally reminded herself. Picking up the cafeteria tray she had used as a platform to catch all the cut hair, so as not to make a mess on the floor, she made her way to throw it in the trash.

“Marlena wait,” he stopped her, “I need that!”

She looked down at her hands, “The tray?”

“No. The hair.”

Things were looking stranger, “And why is that?”

“Hey, my hair, my business.”

Rather than argue, she handed it over, tray and all, “Alright fine.”

He decided to at the least partly satisfy her natural curiosity, “It’s part of my plan to seduce Jess.”

That didn’t help matters at all, “Ok, but I still don’t get it…?”

“Tomorrow, you’ll see.”

:::
The next morning, when Jessica arose from her heavy slumber, her eyes came upon a most unusual sight. There, in arranged fashion on her desk, was an envelope, one flower, likely picked from the bushes outside, and a cup of … Hair???

Curiouser and curiouser. Opening said envelope, she found two tickets. Upon closer inspection, she discovered they were tickets to the Semi-Formal. Odd. She couldn’t think of who would ask her. Not that she was incapable of it, but that at this point, she wasn’t particularly smitten with anyone, and she assumed the inverse was true as well.

Whilst she continued her speculations, scribbling on the cup caught her attention, prompting her to take a closer look. It read: I let Marlena cut my hair, for you. Gene.

Eugene? Interesting. She didn’t know him all that much, but Marlena spent a goodly portion of her time with him, so he couldn’t be all that bad. But it was a nice gesture. And though she didn’t quite want to know how he managed to sneak into the suite when the doors were locked, the rest of his effort was quite respectable. Even the hair. Strange, but amusing.

Still in her sleepwear, she grabbed for the cup and made her way downstairs. She owed him an answer, at the least for all his troubles.

:::
“So where is she from?” Gene sat on the floor of the suite’s common area, pushing buttons fervorently in an attempt to beat Craig at ‘Smash Brothers’ on their n64 console.

“Jessica? Oh, I think she’s from Alaska. At least that’s what it said on her name tag when we moved in.”

Craig laughed, “Man, a Jew from Alaska?–I’m going to fuck you up, sluuuuut!–For some reason I think that’s hilarious,” he commented, occasionally interjecting taunts at Eugene.

“Yep. And Jess doesn’t have a brush. She uses a fork. Just like the Eskimos,” Marlena watched the festivities from the couch. Occasionally she would play, but she wasn’t very good, and deferred to their superior gaming skills. Most of the time she was happy to sit and watch, because it meant spending time with them. And the conversations were usually the highlights of her day. Girls were never this fun.

The loud squeak of the door told them someone had just walked in, but no one bothered to look. It could mean a loss of concentration, which ultimately led to defeat.

Jessica cleared her throat for good measure. This was, after all, important. Glancing around, she took in the lewd “study hard” bikini girl posters, the “Animal House” tribute, and the stolen trash bin that had been stolen from the cafeteria last week. So *that’s* where it had gone.

Sitting next to Marlena on the couch, she turned to her and spoke softly, “So this is why you’re never in the suite.”

Gene recognized the voice and turned quickly, at last out of his zone. An evil “Muahaha” from Craig had told him he would pay dearly for that. Round over. Victory for Craig and the mighty Pikachu.

Might as well play it cool, “Yeah, we have good times here.”

Marlena laughed, “Hah! If by good times you mean smash until I threaten to leave, or playing Zelda at 4 in the morning while talking about masturbating, then yes, I agree.”

“What?” Jessica wasn’t sure whether they were joking or not.

“Yeah,” Craig affirmed, “Imagine some dorks on a couch late at night like 3 in the morning playing Zelda and talking about how they masturbate 3 times a day,” he leaned back on his palms and sighed at the memories, “Ah, those are days of yore. I’m down to 2 times a day.”

“Alright guys, I’m sure she didn’t come down to talk about that,” Eugene silenced the duo, “Well assuming you came down for what I think you came down for,” he looked hopeful, “did you?”

Remembering the object in her hands, Jess handed it back to him, “Well, despite the fact that I refuse to keep this,” she decided to get straight to the point, “yeah, we can go.” She stood tall, “I have class in a couple hours. Bye guys,” and promptly strode out the door.

Craig looked confused, “Mind telling me what that was about?”

“The unlikely has happened,” Marlena wrapped an arm around Gene’s neck, “he has a date.”

To Be Continued…

People, couples and staggers alike, in some of the best and worst clothing ever made, made their way into a moderately sized ball room, pleasantly surprised. After all, they were expecting something more along the lines of a tacky high school dance in an old gym, as most were certainly accustomed to. But then on second thought, they, or rather their parents, were paying a sizeable price for them to attend this fine institution… so shouldn’t they be entitled to nice things like this?

And as they filed in, no one suspected the impending doom that awaited them on this dismal night of misfortune.

 

John arrived with Isabella, who had been insisting for the past hour that he call her “Izzy.” Like it was a cute pet name or something. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was just too.. too weird!

How did he get stuck in this situation in the first place? He hadn’t *really* wanted to take Isabella to the Semi… it just sort of happened really. Not that he was complaining or anything. At least not yet, anyway.

John glanced over at her, in her bright pale pink dress and curiously large perm, and suddenly thought, it could have been worse. Much worse. But before he resigned himself to a night of awkward dancing and multiple trips to the punch bowl, nature called.

“Uh, I gotta go to the bathroom.” Isabella, who had been hanging onto his arm for the past hour, as if her life depended on it, turned into him eagerly, “You need some help?” Her braces shined in the light, “I’ll go with you!”

“Um,” he shrugged, “It’s the bathroom!”

:::
Eugene adjusted his tie for the tenth time that hour. He should have paid better attention to him mother growing up. After all, she could tie a tie, and he… well, couldn’t.

He turned to Jess, “This music really sucks,” he mumbled, “man if only I had my computer here with me…” his voice trailed off, as the thought disappeared.

“What?” Jess turned to look at him, “Oh did I forget to tell you that I *don’t* dance? I think I’m missing a very important chromosome or something-“

“Wait, but this is a *dance*” Gene implored. Even he, decreed by Marlena as being Anti-Nature, was able to grasp the fundamental principles of a dance.

“And what’s your point?” she was clearly confused, “Anyway, like I was saying, despite the fact that I’m a Lakers fan and had no place at that game, it was fun. Mostly because I have this intense fascination with Mike Bibby. Is it just me? Seriously, he’s number 5 on my laminated celebrity list. Bet you thought Scott Baio would be on the list. Well, if I could include a young Scott Baio I would, but he is hella old now. And when I say young, I don’t mean the Chachi years, I’m referring to the ‘Charles in Charge’ years-“

What? Scott Baio? And what the hell was a laminated list? Seriously, this girl watched entirely too much television. It couldn’t be healthy. And being a media major was no excuse.

He nodded in an exaggerated fashion, and tried to smile in a way that wouldn’t look as if he were in pain. That was … until…

“And oh my goodness, I completely forgot about Zack Morris from Saved By the Bell! He was so dreamy-“

Slumping his head onto the table, the glasses and dishes rattled from the force. And still she talked. And still he pounded away.

She stopped for a moment, when she noticed what he was doing, “Oh my god, are you okay?”

He paused mid air, “I can’t feel my face.”

:::
Hope tried her best to hide behind the ceramic tiger near the punch bowl and ice sculptures, but her efforts were for naught.

“Hey Hope! Why’d you run off like that!” Bo made his way, rather loudly as well, towards her. This was not how she expected things to go. She had expected a matching corsage to go with her white dress. She had expected Bo to wear a nice suit, or a dress shirt and slacks at the least. She had expected chivalry, and manners, and all sorts of other romantic things.

But alas, God had made her settle for slightly wilted flowers torn from the bushes near York Hall, Bo in his army fatigues and a tuxedo shirt, and sporting a new mustache, that strangely enough, reminded her of… her father.

Nearing the refreshments table, he scooped up some juice with the ladle, and slurped it clean, “Hey Hope, want some punch?”

Her only response was to cower further.

:::
“-and let me tell you how much my twin sister sucks at scrabble. She made the word quid; respectable for 13 points near the end of the game, right? Yeah, but she had an ‘s’ and could have gotten 45 points with the word squid on triple word score,” Marlena paused for a beat, “Goddamn, I’m a dork.” A change of subject was most definitely called for, “So Craig, what do you want to do with your life?”

“I don’t know,” he rubbed at his chin thoughtfully, “I just want to leave this place pretty much exactly as I found it, less a few cases of brewskies.”

“An admirable goal.”

Silence then befell them. “Marlena, is this, you know, weird for you?” Craig studied rather intently.

“Well, kinda, but I guess that’s sorta natural, you know?” she rationalized the situation.

“Very true. And it’s not awkward in that uncomfortable silence kind of way, but just weird ‘cus I never would have expected this.”

“No kidding.”

:::
Leaving Craig at the table with several of his friends, Marlena made her way to the bathroom. Although she surely must have taken a couple wrong turns along the way, she eventually was successful, until she realized a certain man-who-shall-not-be-named was standing outside of the entry-way, making it impossible for her to ignore him.

Well, perhaps not so difficult, she thought. A part of her chastised herself for acting like a jilted lover, but she couldn’t help it. Really, how dare he ignore her and turn her down? If he wasn’t interested, he could have said so rather than embarrass her as he had.

Yes, ignoring him was looking better and better.

That is, until he decided to acknowledge her presence.

“Marlena.” He was casual and broached no conversation.

She slowed her steps and then stopped, though a part of her begged her not to, “John.” She raised a mildly interested brow at him. As she was about to say more, the door squeaked, and distracted her.

“Isabella.” Marlena nodded, and then continued along her way.

John sighed. He had been hoping to speak with her, but alas it was not meant to be. Gesturing for Isabella to follow him, he was curious of only one thing, “Why were you in there for so long? Christ, did you fall in?”

:::
“Eugene?” She fiddled with the leaves from the floral centerpiece.

“Yeah?”

“Uh… I don’t think this is working out.”

“What?” His brows shot up, “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, you’re a really special guy, and you deserve a really great girlfriend. Lots, actually. But I feel that you’re pressuring me to do things I’m not ready for.”

“Huh? I don’t understand.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to stop paying attention to me and buying me stuff and driving me places, but it does mean that… I think… what I’m trying to say is…”

“Let’s be friends?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“No, it’s ok,” he paused, unsure of how to continue, “Hey Jess?”

“Yes?”

“Does this mean I still have to drive you back?”

:::
Eugene approached Marlena from behind, on his way to get his coat from the coat-check, “Hey Marlena?”

As Craig helped her adjust her wrap, she turned, “Yeah?”

“Next time you have a great idea, remind me of this night.”

“Awww Gene,” she felt partially responsible for his misery, “How does that saying go? ‘Tis better to have loved and lost…'”

“If you know a good hit man.”

To Be Continued…

Finals week drew invariably closer, and so began the inevitable crackdown on studying. The soft synthetic sounds of Moby played at a low volume in the background, whilst Marlena and Craig sat at the small table in her suite’s common area, reading their textbooks quietly in a moment of hardcore nerdage.

“God this is dull. So much for my silly childhood dream of becoming a therapist,” Marlena let out a prolonged breath of air, and closed her book.

Craig followed her example and closed his book as well, “At least you’re not taking physics. This gives dry, logistic intellectuals a bad name,” he leaned back in his chair, “Maybe I should go into the publishing business. I could make loads of money writing the most awesome textbooks. You know, with shit we’d actually want to remember?”

“Like…?”

“Like say…If sperm knew how to calculate gradient fields’ of vagina’s, imagine how many more girls would get pregnant?” he posed, “Man, those inner city schools and troubled teens on Maury Povich will love me!”

She laughed softly, “I suppose that beats your other career goal. I don’t think anyone has any need for a professional beer drinker. Or a chauvinist,” Marlena teased.

“Hey now,” Craig put his hands up in a slightly defensive gesture, “I used to be a chauvinist, but bitches hate that shit.”

Marlena jibbed him in the ribs with her highlighter “Right.”

A sharp cry, followed by the strong wind of the door opening interrupted the quiet, “Augh! I just had the worst date of my life!” Hope tossed her small frame onto the loveseat across from them, hair flopping about and limbs stretched in all directions, “Not only did Bo wear white pants, but his car CD-player skipped.”

Craig and Marlena turned to each other, communicating silent ire.

But an oblivious Hope prattled on, “And if that weren’t bad enough, he spent the whole dinner talking about himself and then accused me of not paying attention just because I had to quickly check my lipstick in the butter knife…”

With a firm nod, the couple stood to abandon their comfortable positions at the table, and gathered their bookbags and materials.

Hope’s eyes grew wide and she sat up, quick, rigid in posture, “Wait! Where are you going?!”

“To check our mascara in the salad tongs,” Marlena grabbed her keys to unlock her bedroom door.

“But you can’t go!” A bit of spit dribbled from her mouth, “I really need someone to talk to and all the normal people are out on dates.”

“Oh. Well. You wouldn’t want to barge in on someone’s date.”

“Exactly!” Hope implored, but her pleas went ignored as Marlena and Craig continued to make their way into the bedroom. Suddenly alone, Hope saw no other recourse but to dig out her cell phone, “Lexie? I just had the worst evening… fine, hurry up and order dessert…”

:::
With Nancy visiting her parents back home for the weekend, they were able to study uninterrupted in the solitude of her small dorm room. And they had to admit, the bed was far more comfortable in comparison to the wooden chairs.

But alas, the peace and tranquility that they had briefly sought didn’t last long, as deep bass beats of Eurodance began to thump all about them, and vibrate along the thin walls.

“What is that?!” Craig was momentarily startled.

Marlena lifted her legs from their rested position atop Craig’s knees, “Either a traveling band of eunuchs, or Hope’s figured out how to turn on the radio.”

“I’m guessing the latter?” he watched Marlena get up to shut the bedroom door, “God, Marlena. Why didn’t you tell me things were so bad here?”

“Aww,” she ruffled his short crop of hair, “I didn’t want you to worry.”

And so they continued to study, occasionally bantering, or discussing idle gossip, but as the day went deep into night, their energy became spent, and eyes tired from use and strain. Soon the early morning hours crept upon them, only to find them both sleeping, books in hand, heads slumped together.

Craig was the first to awaken; with bleary eyes he focused on the blue typeface of Marlena’s desk clock. 4:17 am– “Oops.”

Sitting up a little straighter, he shook Marlena’s leg with his own to wake her. Marlena’s head bobbed a bit, but snapped to attention when she spied the time on her clock.

“Oh, man. We’ve got to get you the hell out of here,” her voice was thick with sleep.

Craig remembered to keep his voice down, “Works for me,” he stifled a yawn.

They got up slowly and quietly; the wooden floor moaned from the pressure.

They both cringed, “I’ll go myself — it’ll be quieter,” Craig whispered.

Marlena nodded, then opened the door wider to let him out, wincing as the unoiled door hinges squeaked.

He quietly crept down the darkened common area, unaware that a slightly drunk Lexie was up and rummaging through the small fridge for a snack, “I’m starving… sushi sucks! Sake rocks. Hey, got to remember that,” she burped loudly, then continued to scourge about for food, “Fuck. Where’s the lazooni…?”

A plate of lasagna in hand, Lexie turned abruptly, only to find Craig about to open the front door, “Hey!”

Craig whirled around; eyes wide with shock, heart rate slightly elevated.

“Hey! I can explain!”

“Craig! Oh, hey. You know, that door sticks on me, too. Let me get it for you,” Lexie handed her plate to a doe-eyed Craig, and opened the door after a bit of fiddling with the sticky knob.

“Hey, you ever try any of that sake? It sucks! I mean, rocks!” she reached for her plate.

“Um, no. You know, the age thing,” hastily returning her food, he all but ran out of the suite.

“Oh, yeah,” Lexie was thoughtful, “Good for you!” and closed the door. “Nice guy, that Craig.”

Getting in to bed, Lexie took notice that Kate was barely awake.

“No wonder you can’t sleep. Sushi in Tijuana is poison. Poison!”

“Is not… hey, I forgot to offer Craig some laza…lazi…lazonny…”

“What?!”

:::
Back in her own room, Marlena tossed about in her bed, trying to force some sort of exhaustion upon herself, when suddenly she opened her eyes and sat up in bed.

“Damn. One one thousand, two one thousand, three…”

Lexie and Kate burst into the room, “Marlena, we need to talk to you, like, right now!”

“… one thousand,” her shoulders slumped in time with her sigh.

:::
“All right, Marlena. I guess I can believe your story. Though it seems pretty farfetched to me that two teenagers with raging hormones–“

“–My hormones don’t rage. Oh, sure, they get mad sometimes, but then they just stop speaking to each other.”

“Aww come on… so you weren’t, you know…?” Lexie twisted her fingers suggestively, with just the hint of a smirk.

“I certainly do know. And no.”

:::
Although Hope should not have had to awaken for several more hours, the pain in her abdomen told her it was time to get up. A true calling from mother nature, it was.

Rubbing her eyes and adjusting her ponytail, she made her way to the bathroom, passing Marlena’s bedroom. Although she assumed everyone would be asleep at this time of morning, she swore she heard voices, slightly hushed, coming from behind the closed door.

“–then tell me once again why Craig was slipping out the door at like four A.M. like some common criminal?”

Hope was jolted into awareness, and she must practically use her hands to close her mouth shut; it took her several seconds to recover.

“Phone!” she told herself, then reversed course and headed back to her bedroom.

:::
“Jesus! Nothing happened. I’d tell you if it did,” Marlena implored.

“You would? Really?” Lexie was a bit touched.

“Um… anyway, you believe me, right?”

:::
In her bedroom, Hope was already busy dialing numbers.

Her voice was urgent, yet still quiet, “Jennifer. Jennifer!” Then more forecful, “I can’t talk any louder, stupid! I’m trying to tell you that Marlena had that guy Craig in her room all night!”

:::
The next morning found John sitting at his desk, going over various notes and doing complex statistical analysis. Only his mind was not all together concentrating on the work at hand. Some time in the wee hours of the morning, he heard Craig creep into the room, and he could only surmise as to what it was that kept him out so late.

Not that it was any of his business.

But it bothered the hell out of him.

And now, in the light of day, he found himself sulking, though not too obviously, and being a bit short with Craig, though not so much as too arouse any suspicion.

He wasn’t very proud of the way he was behaving, but if he admitted it to himself, he knew why. The jealousy was eating way at his normal reserve.

Across from him, stood a very unsuspecting Craig, who was currently fishing through recently washed laundry, and folding them.

A low wolf whistle from the door broke the silence, “Craig, you sly dog. Way to go man!”

Craig put down a pair of folded jeans, “Excuse me?”

Eugene took a few steps inside the room, “You know… you did the wild walk, made a touchdown, signed the deed!”

Craig’s confusion grew, “On tonight’s Babble Chat hosted by Eugene Bradford…”

“Come on man! Now we can have manly talks!”

“What the hell are you ranting about?”

“Aw come one, don’t make me beg for details,” Eugene sighed, and let his gaze fall on to the pile of clothes that had yet to be folded. Among the many clean white socks and shirts, he spied something black, and out of place. Craig followed his line of vision, and saw him pull out what looked to be a bra.

“Woah now, what’s this?” He let the bra dangle to and fro by the tip of his index finger, “Man, Marlena! I never would have pegged her for the kinky Victoria’s Secret black lace type.”

From the back of the room, John coughed audibly, and had to forcibly swallow the gulp of water he nearly spat out at the sight of the undergarment.

“Wait a minute, waaaait a minute,” Craig snatched the bra from Eugene’s grasp, “So this bra got mixed up in my laundry. Some one must have left it in the washer,” he spied the tag, “It’s a 34B. It could be anyone’s!”

“Riiiight.”

:::
Today had been a interesting one. The people in Meteor were acting… well, stranger than usual. Some of her girlfriends had given her sly looks, as if they were privy to something about her, although what it was, she couldn’t say. At first she had passed it off as a mere incident, but as the day continued, she had the sneaking suspicion that she was being left out of the world’s most colossal joke. Something definitely was amiss. And she was going to get to the bottom of it. Taking a break from her homework, she grabbed her cell phone and dialed a familiar number, “Hey.”

Maggie smiled at her own psychic powers, “Ah. I’ve been expecting your call.”

“Huh?”

“All right, I’m listening,” Maggie laid on the dramatics, “But for God’s sake, at least spare me the squishier details and the rapturous declarations of undying love.”

“What are you talking about?” Marlena squinted a brow in confusion.

Maggie proceeded cautiously, “What are *you* talking about?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. I’ve been running into people all day and they kept alluding to I’m-almost-afraid-to-guess-what. Is something going on?”

“Come on, Marlena, you know!”

“Know what?”

A pause.

“You don’t know?”

Marlena was beginning to tire, “What?! Just tell me!”

“Well, there’s this rumor going around that you and Craig… slept together.”

She nearly dropped the phone, “Huh?!”

“And that Nancy walked in right… well, right in the middle of things.”

“Oh, my God.”

“And Marlena…” Maggie chuckled, “Since when do you own a pair of pink stilettos?”

:::
Marlena took the stairs two steps at time, and burst into Craig and John’s room, “Craig we need to ta-” she noticed the garment in his hand, “Hey, my bra! You found it!”

Eugene’s eyes went wide as saucers, “I knew it!”

“Knew what?” Marlena parroted.

“Eugene, can I talk to you for a second?” Craig latched onto Eugene’s arm, only to drag him out of the room, “We’ll be right back, guys”

“But but but–” his cries decreased in volume as they moved slowly, slowly away from the bedroom.

And then John and Marlena were left alone. John trying his damnedest to not look her in the eye, and Marlena trying her best to decipher the strange look upon his face. It was not knowing, nor pretentious, like the other looks. No, it was decidedly sad, and it made her wonder.

She had to ask him what it meant, “What.” She wasn’t questioning him. She was demanding.

He turned to her, but rather looked past her, through her, with his lamenting gaze, “It’s… nothing.”

“I.. err.. well–I–” she stuttered a bit, trying to find something to say, her cheeks pink and her palms sweaty. But alas she found herself with nothing, and decided it would be best to pay her leave, “I’d… better go,” her voice was quiet and John noted the vulnerable tremor in it. He cursed himself for being so cold and indifferent towards her. Truly it was not her fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Just they way shit happened.

“Ok,” he answered instead, not trusting himself to say more.

As she turned to leave, John called her name, “Marlena wait,” he sounded urgent.

“Yes?” somewhere in her, there was hope.

He picked up the bra from the bed, “You almost forgot this.”

Marlena laughed softly, maybe even a little sadly, and smiled, “thanks,” she reached for it.

Their hands met, and his thumb caressed the smooth skin of her hand. Finally they gathered the courage to really look at one another, without resentments or petty jealousies blocking the way.

The light flashed before his eyes, and he was suddenly elsewhere.

On a beach, yes, a warm, pristine beach.

Marlena came up from the water with a gasp, the sun hitting her face like a force.

She loved it. The heat and light on her skin, sky and clouds above her, air that moved. Those were best things about being here. It felt rather heavenly. Like home.

She swam for the shore, swift strokes that stretched the muscles in her back and arms.

On the beach, John lifted his head sleepily from the blanket as she approached, regarding her with one half-open eye. He was a beautiful thing, a beautiful eighteen year old thing with an incredible mind, and he’s never with her. Not in reality. But here, yes. He had fallen asleep with his work on his chest; All around him were the notes for the project he was working on, spread about like confetti. She flopped down next to him, still breathless from her swim, and kissed him softly on the lips, softly enough to not wake him. Leaning back, she toweled her arms and legs, brushing the sand off her feet.

She laughed at herself as she took off her bikini top to bare her breasts to the afternoon sun. Her girlish humor on the other hand, was more than enough to wake him, and he found himself staring directly into her smiling face, her head blocking out the sun from his eyes, and the rays crowning her head like the most divine of immortal creatures he used to read about as a young child.

Seeing him awake now, empowered her, and she lifted a leg to sit upon his lap, the beginnings of an erection pressing into her. Covering her breasts with her hands, she ground her bottom down, in smooth circles; John let out a sleepy moan. He knew very well that she was teasing.

His big hand skimmed her back, the skin damp and salty, bits of sand dust clinging to her like glitter. Upwards and further upwards, tangling in her hair, curly and wet from her swim. He tugged her head back, and she gasped at his force. Loved it. He licked the salt from her neck, and sucked at the tender skin.

She heard herself whimpering out her excitement, begging him. This was not at all how it used to be.

Naked then, both of them. His hands clawing on her hips and buttocks, seizing her, possessing her. Using her utterly. But reverent and considerate. Showing her that she was his piece of meat. That she was made of porcelain. His property. His love.

She rose up above him and he fixed his hands to her breasts as they got closer. Beads of sweat dripped from her hair onto her tongue. Coming, coming, coming, and he was with her, screwing up his brow and flaring his nostrils like a beast, something utterly wild.

At the apex of their mutual pleasure, both reached for the other, blindly, and kissed, a little sloppy, lusty, and hungry.

His seed hot inside her and she loved it. It felt like burning. It felt like love.

Reaching back, they stared at one another, too overcome for words, to spent to try to find them. She smiled a little, he smiled back, and the light, bright and hot, blinded them once more.

Marlena was sweating now, her breath a little uneven, and her hand, the one that was still touching his, shaking. What she saw in her mind, it was unnerving, and a small voice in her head was telling her to flee quickly, despite her ultimate desire to stay.

John was the first to let go, taking his hand back and cradling it with the other, as if he had been burned by hot flames.

Running her fingers through her longish hair, she spoke first, “Um, you’ve probably heard the rumor about me and Craig…”

Back to reality, “Hey, it’s no big deal, right? This isn’t the ’50s, when women had to worry about their reputations.”

Somehow, she felt as if it was suddenly very important to preserve her modesty, “But it’s not true. I never slept with Craig and I don’t own any stilettos.”

“Marlena, it’s okay, really. Besides, you and Craig are, I guess, you know… and I’d think at some point you’d want to do more than just hold hands. Right?” He was saying the words, but he didn’t feel very confident about them.

And neither did she, “Um…”

“Hey. Sex is nothing to be ashamed of as long as you’re responsible.”

“So then you and Isabella have… been responsible?”

“Do we have to discuss her?”

“I understand.”

“Me too.”

Only they didn’t.

“Okay. Just so long as there’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she smiled a bit, “I better get going. Tell Craig I had some stuff to take care of.”

“Gotcha.”

“Cool,” she turned to walk, but stopped mid-step, “Hey John?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad we talked.”

“Yeah…” and after a moment of prolonged silence, she slipped from the room, and he was alone.

And more confused about his feelings then ever.

To Be Continued…

“So I saw Jack and Eugene at the gym today…” Marlena spoke casually, while browsing the nutrition contents on various cartons of milk.

John popped open a plastic container of potato salad, “What were they doing there? Playing Atari?”

“Not sure–40 fat calories?–I think it has something to do with getting hot chicks for next quarter,” Marlena put the milk carton away and went to inspect another.

“Marlena, why do girls always read the nutrition labels? And more importantly, do you guys even know what all that stuff means?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being health conscious.”

“I dunno… I guess I’d just hate to be one of those people that has to plan my meals and food intake based on these things..” he picked up a wrapped sandwich, “OH NO, I NEED 5% MORE FIBRE TODAY OR I’M CLOGGING THE TOILET!” He waved his hands around jokingly.

“$20 says you’re the first one to reach 500 pounds out of all of us.”

“That sounds kind of hot, actually,” he weighed the sandwich in one hand, and a slice of pie in the other, “What are you seeing that I’m not seeing? What does it mean when it says this thing has 20 grams of sodium fuckamoxide whogivesashitahydryde? You’re premed, tell me, what does that mean?”

She took the pie out of his hands, “Bad.” And closed both his hands around the sandwich, “Good.”

He frowned slightly, “I’m just not smart enough to know what all the horsecrap on these labels mean or how they affect me… You know, I should propose a new nutrition labeling system.”

“How so?”

“Well all I really need to know about food are 3 things…Is it healthy?….Does it taste like a sasquatch’s nutsack?…. Will it turn my poo into paste?… If the answer is yes to any of those, I know not to eat it.”

“Your genius astounds me,” she laughed, “no wonder you’re the big bad management science man here.”

He shrugged, “Told ya,” and grabbed the pie anyway.

Taking a seat at an empty dining table, they sat across from one another in silence, occasionally turning their attention to one of the television sets. For all their prior animosities, they still had a long way before the tension between them was obliterated, but at the very least they were able to be in the same room and not want to ignore the other.

“So what are you doing for winter break,” Marlena asked in between bites of soup. He idly noted how she would softly blow on it to make sure it was at a safe temperature for consumption. Quite frankly he thought it was sexy. It drew his attention to her delicate lips, and would make him wonder about the pleasures of her mouth.

Somewhere, in another reality, he heard his name being called, and looked up to see Marlena looking at him questioningly, “John?”

“Huh? Oh! Winter break.. yes, err” he stuttered, the tips of his ears turning red at the thought of being caught openly staring, “Yes, I’m going up to be spending the holidays with my Aunt Viviane.”

Marlena thought she detected a bit of contempt in his voice, “I take it you’re not too keen on that?”

“Not really,” his laughter was tinged with bitterness, “She gave me alcohol when I was six. You can see why I have issues with her.”

“What?”

“Just crazy European customs. But we tend to butt heads on a regular basis, so that’s just the tip of the ice berg.”

She cradled her cheek into the palm of her hand, “Well why don’t you spend it with your parents?”

At the mention of his family, his body tensed for but a second, but a second was all Marlena needed to notice the change in him, and she was instantly contrite, “Oh I’m sorry-“

“No no, it’s ok,” he waved off, “They uh– they passed away when I was a child,” he pushed a bit of pie around his plate with his fork before eating it.

Marlena grew quite, unsure of how to respond to something as important and delicate as that. The words wouldn’t come, and she was deathly afraid of saying the wrong thing, “I’m sorry…” her voice trailed off, and she reached her hand to cover his, “I don’t know what to say,” her smile turned sad.

The warmth of her small hand was lovely, and he welcomed it, “It’s ok, you don’t have to be awkward about it,” he shrugged, “It… was a long time ago. I don’t really remember because I was so young when it happened,” John raised his clear eyes to meet hers, “The accident.”

“Is that why you live with your Aunt?”

He nodded, “Yeah, she’s been my guardian ever since then. Which is unfortunate considering how ‘well’ we get along. And it’s not that I’m not grateful that she’s been there to take care of me, but you know how it is.”

“You mean the parental defiance and general angsty teen rebellion? Ah yes,” she grinned a little, “but I’m mostly convinced this only happens because MTV has us all brainwashed. Evil evil evil!”

The fog began to lift, and John laughed, “It could have been worse. I could have decided to drop out of school and form an emo band. John Black and the lamenters,” he put ran his fingers through his hair and put his hat on at an angle, “with my hit song ‘I’m so depressed, why can’t I get a hot date’.”

“Oh John, now I’ve lost what little respect I had for you,” she teased.

“Well that sucks, but the hordes of 15 year old fans will be there to cheer me up.”

“Hey John, what’s that smell?” she turned her head to either side, as if trying to identify the source.

“Uhh…” he feigned ignorance, “HEY LOOK, JOHN MAYER IS ON TV!”

:::
knock knock

Craig looked away from his computer, more than a bit annoyed, “Listen,” he called out to the person behind the door, “The lab is full and I have a program due at 1159pm today. I am using a series of ftp and telnet clients to mimic like I’m there. Unless you’re gonna help me, I don’t fuckin wanna see you. You fuckin suck. If you’re a really hot woman and you wanna come over and get naked, I MIGHT consider putting my keyboard down for a moment for a quickie. MAYBE. But I’ll probably just say: get the fuck out bitch.”

Marlena popped her head in, “Are you sure about that Craig?”

He swiveled around in his desk chair, “That depends. Do you plan on getting naked?”

She laughed, “Probably not.” She looked around, “Actually I’m looking for John and Eugene. We’re supposed to go over some biology.”

“They’re downstairs in the lounge. They left like 20 minutes ago I think,” he gave her a sly grin, “But are you sure you don’t wanna get naked? I could really use the motivation.”

“Bye Craig.”

:::
“So what happens to the umbilical cord/belly button after it is cut off? New babies have long ones. Does the part left attached to the body just fall off? Or does it get sucked in by the stomach? Or does the baby’s belly grow around it? It’s one of those things you don’t really learn in a school,” John chewed on his pencil, “They should have a hotline you can call for questions like these…”

“Bro. They fall off,” Eugene made a face of disgust, “I learned that on cheers, I think Woody thought Frasier’s baby had a finger growing from his belly, and Frasier said it was the umbilical cord and that it falls off later.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“But you see.. TV can teach you amazing things! Who needs school.”

“I’m just glad I don’t have a vagina.”

Marlena bounded in, “If I ever go in to research, my biggest dedication will be to finding ways for men to give birth with an artificial uterus. Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

“But where would it come out?”

“Where do you think, sunshine?”

“You are evil.”

“I know.”

“I mean, not only am I going to be giving birth to babies down the road, but I’m also going to fail this final. I know it. I just don’t watch enough TV to know about these things.”

“Don’t talk like that John,” Eugene encouraged, “Consider, if you will, the morning boner. What a metaphor of hope and renewal! How can anyone give way to despair when one’s groin greets each new day with such a gala spectacle of physiological optimism?”

Eugene was met with blank stares and silence from John and Marlena.

John glanced at the clock, “T minus 8 hours until my boner takes my final.”

From the back of the lounge they could hear the clatter of metal and frantic pacing. Just then a frazzled Hope zoomed past them, nervously cracking her knuckles and looking like she hadn’t had a bath in 4 days, “I can I can I can I can I can I can…” she repeated.

Marlena’s brow knotted in confusion, “Hope? Are you ok?”

“What? YES! I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine,” she spoke quickly, and in a much higher pitch than usual, “Hey you guys, is my skin getting darker?” She lifted her own arm to her eyes for inspection, “It’s like an indoor tan!”

“Hope,” Marlena approached with a cup of water, “I think you’re going crazy from not sleeping in 3 days. How many caffeine pills have you had?”

“I think I lost count.”

“Hey Hope, didn’t Saved by the Bell teach you *anything*?” John folded his arms on the table,

“Dude. You watched Saved by the Bell? That’s so wrong.”

“Ok man, just because I used to watch that show, doesn’t make me a pansy. Besides, I’m so secure in my manhood, that it’s ok to be a little gay.”

Eugene pushed his glasses up his nose with a single finger, “Yeah, I’ve conned myself with that lie a few times too.”

:::
“So how’d the test go?”

“Well,” John crawled into bed, “On a scale from 1 to 10, 1 being that I was severely raped and violated by the test, and 10 being that the test did not stand a chance against me. I’d say I did about a 7. I totally owned.”

“Shit yeah, that’s awesome!”

“Yeahh.. oh and when I say owned, what I really mean is that I started crying about halfway through the test, and wrote the word FART in really big letters as the answer to the final question. All in all, I think I did spectacular,” he closed his eyes, “Wake me when my plane gets here.”

To Be Continued…