As I leaned in, Paul was trying to hand me a stick of peppermint gum. I cuffed my hand around my mouth and exhaled to get a good whiff. I quickly reached for the stick of gum. Turns out, we were both from the same part of the state, so we had a boring, yet sturdy, starting point to build off of. He was studying biology, which was fine; I could carry the conversation (he was very personable).
I told him that I was an international relations major and I wanted to work in the nonprofit sector. After going back and forth between staring at the ceiling and staring at my phone for a considerable amount of time, I decided to look for something to do. Paul had left to have a final dinner with his family, so it was up to me to find entertainment and make bad decisions on my own.
I suddenly remembered that I had run into a friend from orientation earlier that day who was moving into my dorm building also. To my luck, she was planning to go out with her roommate, and everything is better in threes. Three hours later, we were sitting in their room.
Normally, I’m all for coconut-flavored stuff — but maybe not in rum. My stomach turned and my face scrunched up like I had just stubbed my toe in the middle of the night and couldn’t yowl in pain. The walk down Russell Boulevard was crowded, and the people yelling “freshmen” from their cars soon became obnoxious. We coerced our way into a hot frat house serving warm Kirkland beer. I stared off into the sea of sweaty bodies and started to realize I wasn’t doing so well.
Then I noticed there were two of him, two of the same guy in the doorway. I made my way back to my dorm, got into bed and conveniently needed to pee as soon as I lay down. With a spinning head on my shoulders and wearing nothing but boxer briefs, I felt the door slam behind me without my ID card or my phone.
Paul sent me a text earlier: “Staying at my parents’ hotel. Don’t wait up. Haha.”
Next week: The RA
Written by: Terry Hudson
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed by Terry Hudson are completely fictional and do not necessarily indicate the views and opinions held by The California Aggie. The story is fictionalized, as is Terry Hudson.