Sleight of Heart -- [COMPLETED]

School sucks… and no matter how much older you get, that doesn’t change. Why do I say that? I find myself mulling over the inescapable truth while standing amongst a large group of strangers in the lobby of McFadden Hall… my new bedding spot for the next seven months. While the resident advisor introduces himself and suggests—eh, more like requests—we do the same, I try to focus on the positives. Positive number one: I am out of high school. Absolutely nothing can ruin that fun fact. Positive number two: I managed to snag a room in a coed dormitory with a friend from high school. Well… number two is arguably a positive. Believe me, I’m glad that I don’t have to room with a stranger, but Darryl became the closest thing to being one the moment we stepped onto campus. He seems to be drawn to anything with curves in a skirt. The boy had already tried to chat up five females in the past couple of hours—three of which currently stand in this very lobby. If I had known he would go this girl-crazy, I probably would’ve written a different name on the dorm application under “suggested roommate.” Oh, well. Can’t change what’s happened. But I am determined to make the best of this situation for the—wait, I think I just missed something. “My name is Marilyn Summers,” says a braided blonde sitting on the arm of the scarlet and gold striped couch in front of me, “freshman, and I’m not sure what my major will be.” For some reason, that doesn’t shock me. I know a lot of freshmen haven’t decided yet what they want to be in life, but that’s not where my mind goes. I watch way too much television, and my opinion on blondes is horribly skewed. Hopefully, spending time among real ones will do something to repair that damage. “I like puppies,” she continues, “long walks on the beach, and world peace.” Then again… Several others laughed, but I just silently hope Ms. Marilyn wasn’t being serious. Gosh, I really am pitiful. I start to shake my head when I notice the RA’s gaze upon me. “Oh, sorry,” I start. Make the best of the situation, right? “The name’s Karl Stevenson. I’m a freshman too, and I like video games, basketball, and prowling the rooftops at night to defeat the forces of evil.” I get a few chuckles of my own, including a grin from Ms. Marilyn, which makes me feel a little less uptight. Guess the room loosens up a bit as well because my roommate follows up with, “My name’s Darryl Anthony, roommate to the Batman here. I’m gonna be a business major with a minor in engineering. So, by the time I get my degrees, I’ll rule the world.” Maybe it was the sound of laughter and chatter, but I feel a smile coming on… and that hasn’t happened since graduation. But this start isn’t bad. If I can mentally separate this new dorm life from actual class work, it may not become the evil dread I’ve been envisioning these past three months. I don’t really want to think of this place as a new—but very temporary—home, but if that might make school suck less… “Hey, Batman,” comes a whisper, snapping me out of my thoughts. Ms. Marilyn had ducked her head back and stared at me upside-down with the clearest pair of blue eyes I’d ever seen not on television. “Can you bring peace to my world?” I blink. I wonder if she knows that the way she leans back exposes her cleavage greatly. So much so that for the briefest moment, I wish she wasn’t wearing that pink bra beneath the low-cut yellow top. However, I don’t want to let on where my eyes venture, so I quickly respond with a whisper of my own, “I can try.”

She flashes a wide grin with her glossed lips before sitting straight again and continuing to listen the rest of the introductions. I’m not sure if this is how first impressions can lead to friendships, but I suddenly realize that I need to be very careful how I respond to these new faces. I’m not here to make friends, and some of these people will not warm up to the fact that I’m an emhuman. The rest of the room introduce themselves, and a couple random conversations pop up among smaller groups. I’m not part of them. Darryl is. Shockingly, it’s with a group of females. I roll my eyes, and I think it happens more out of reflex than actual purpose. But I use the lull to excuse myself from the lobby and sneak away upstairs. Our room is 263, on the second floor, but that’s not my destination. When Darryl and I were moving our stuff in earlier, we had noticed some workers on the roof. We’d passed them coming down when we brought up his futon, but it had made me wonder if residents were allowed up there. I decide to venture first and ask permission later. I scale the dingy, yellow stairwell two steps at a time until I reach the roof access door just past the fourth floor. Taking the doorknob in hand, I inhale and make a sharp twist. The knob easily gives and the door swings open, letting in a cool breeze I gratefully inhale. Stepping out onto the roof, I carefully let the door close slowly behind me. No need alerting anyone to my presence just yet. A quick glance, and I can easily spot the area the workers were attending to. But even if I were blind, my nose would’ve led me right to it. Whatever they used to patch up the area was incredibly loud and three steps shy of foul. Heading in the opposite direction of that unpleasant odor, I gaze out at the campus. Several other buildings are taller than McFadden. Some of them look like dorms, judging from the size of their parking lots, but others have way too many windows to be dorms. They’re a little fancier as well. I don’t know the names of any of them. What I want to do is grab the map from the freshman pack we received during orientation and see if I can find the buildings my classes are in first. My original plan included doing that with Darryl, but I feel all kinds of doubts poking into that. Plan B: a solo trek that hopefully doesn’t end with me terribly lost on the other side of the campus. Wait. What am I saying? I know how to read a freakin’ map. I do it all the time when I navigate road trips with Pops. Plus, all the map reading on various videogames oughta count for something. I just have to go find my map in the room and get to hoofin’ it. I spin to head back inside and my heart leaps up into my throat while I let out a partially controlled yelp. A manly yelp, to be clear, but I don’t think Ms. Marilyn agrees as she fights hard to keep apparent giggles trapped inside. “Sorry,” she manages between snickers. “I just couldn’t help myself.” “How did you even sneak up here like that?” I quickly ask, silently trying to will my heartbeat down to its normal pace. “I didn’t hear a thing.” Still with an amused grin on her face, she shakes her head disappointingly. “That’s no good for someone devoted to fighting crime, now isn’t it?” “Ha ha,” I respond dryly, but she seriously shouldn’t have been able to sneak up on me that fast without a sound. Not me. “So… why’d you come up here?” Ms. Marilyn asks the question, but her gaze drifts off to the rest of the campus. “And please, don’t say ‘to be alone’ because that is not what today is all about.”

But it is the truth. And if she doesn’t want to hear that answer… “Scenes like this inspire me to keep drawing.” Her blue eyes return to me, and when they do, it’s almost as if I can feel the energy behind them. “You’re an art major?” I nod, realizing I hadn’t told the group my major, but there’s no reason to give her the full details. I’m not here to make friends, especially with some blue-eyed blonde who’s barking up the stalker tree with a smile that is the definition of “innocence.” It takes a little effort, but I divert my attention long enough to say, “I’m gonna go now.” “Go where?” she asks without missing a beat. I couldn’t even get two steps away from her. “Will you show me your room next?” Hell no. I don’t know where this confidence comes from—or the interest in me, for that matter—but the last thing I want is her knowing where I’ll be bedding down. “If you must know, I want to see if I can find the buildings my classes are in while the campus is still slow.” As soon as the words leave my lips, I wonder if lying would be worth the effort to keep certain annoyances away throughout the semester. Marilyn stares back with this sudden look of clarity brushed across her face. “That would be a smart thing to do. Mind if I tag along? I promise I’ll be perfect company.” Doubt it, but I don’t really want to leg it alone. “Do you have a campus map?” Her brow crinkles, and her nose scrunches up but only for a moment. That moment is long enough for me to glimpse something that didn’t feel annoying. If it were possible, her eyes brightened. “I think I left it on my bed. I’ll grab it and meet you back in the lobby.” She doesn’t even wait for my response before turning on her heels and running back to the roof entrance. No one could claim Ms. Marilyn lacked energy. Sense? Maybe. But as she clamors downstairs, I can’t help but wonder how she managed to sneak up on me like that. She’s clearly not stealthy, nor is she trying to be. But beyond that, I was empowered at a young age with a heightened awareness of the world around me. The slightest disturbance in the air should have alerted me to her approach, especially considering how quickly she managed to catch up with me. Why in the world did that not happen? I decide not to bury that mystery too deep. Since I was about to traverse the new campus with her, perhaps I’ll get a chance to uncover the truth about her. Wasting no time, I head downstairs and to my room. Fortunately, Darryl hadn’t ensnared some poor female and trapped her in his—our—lair yet. I hope he will have the forethought to alert me before I accidentally barge into one of his conquests already in progress. The sudden imagery sends a shudder down my spine before my focus returns to searching for my own map amongst a clutter of freshman crap sprawled across my bed. It takes about half a minute to find the thing folded up in a book of guidelines I shall never read because of the book’s sheer thickness. I hope they don’t really expect a student to actually waste time on that. My schedule is much easier to pick up. I had already separated it from the rest of the junk and set it on the desk designated to “my side” of the room so it wouldn’t get lost easily.

Moments later, I leave the room—locking up behind me—and head back to the lobby, hoping I haven’t forgotten anything important. When I reach the lobby, I notice that there are a few less people chatting about. Darryl still occupies some female’s presence. I happen to glance a smile on her face, so at least she appears amused. Turning my gaze aside, I see a few people on the patio outside enjoying smokes. Out of reflex, my nose scrunches. I’ve never liked the smell of those things, but I’m sure that has nothing to do with having been afflicted with asthma and bronchitis when I was little. I have to remember to avoid them as much as possible. I’m not sure if my body would react badly to second-hand smoke, but I have no desire to test it. “Karl!” My head whips toward the entrance. Ms. Marilyn stands there with a wide smile on her face and the unfolded campus map in her hands along with another sheet of paper I assume is her schedule and her cellphone. Not sure why, but this is the first time I actually notice her from head to toe. Braided blonde hair, low-cut top, matching jogging shorts make her ivory legs look long even though I know she’s shorter than me… Huh… She’s actually kinda cute. I force myself to refocus before blood started diverting from my brain. “You ready?” I ask, more for my benefit than hers, as I approach her and intently keep my gaze on her eyes. She nods, reaches into her shirt, and pulls out her school ID card. “I made sure I won’t forget it.” It takes a moment, but I realize that’s what I forgot! The ID cards double as swipe cards for the dorms as well as vending machines. They are the only way to get back inside if no one’s in the lobby. “I think I left mine in the room.” Ms. Marilyn quickly shakes her head. “That’s alright. I promise I won’t abandon you, sir.” She speaks in such in a playful way that her smile is infectious this time. Even though I smile back, I have problems understanding how some people can be so overly friendly to a complete stranger. Not once had I encountered someone like her throughout high school. In fact, high school pretty much taught me that if a person was being nice to you, it meant they wanted something from you. I have to keep my guard up, just in case that other shoe is about to drop. For the next couple hours, we maneuver the campus—which is larger than I originally anticipated. I lose my sense of direction more than once, which makes absolutely no sense, but I choose to blame it on Ms. Marilyn bouncing around like an awe-struck tourist in the big city. She insists on taking pictures in several random spots to send back home to her sister which prolongs our exploration that much longer, but I learn a few interesting things about her as well. The younger sister plans to follow Ms. Marilyn here next fall, if all goes well. Ms. Marilyn actually wants to be an actress, which makes me wonder just how much I’ve been lied to already. However, the most interesting thing is that I still cannot find any possible way she can avoid my detection. Sometimes, she’s so overly energetic that she’s a bit clumsy with her steps. I catch her twice at the onset of stumbles to keep her from kissing the concrete. Each time, she’s thankful but doesn’t immediately pull away. It’s almost as if she wants me to catch her.

In any case, we find all of our buildings by the time the sun starts to set and decide to make a pit stop at the union before returning back to the dorm. I will never admit it to her, but I actually enjoy the afternoon with her for what it’s worth. And as we sit on a sofa in the empty lobby sharing a couple bags of chips she paid for with the money on her card, it finally starts to sink in that college will be nothing at all like high school. Ms. Marilyn pulls a chip out of the bag and crunches loudly in my ear. I pull away, and she laughs before crossing her legs on the cushioned seat. My gaze slips, as it had been doing all afternoon, and I think for the first time, she actually caught my eyes on her legs. With a mischievous smirk, she slowly runs a finger up her thigh. “You know,” she speaks, her voice low and controlled, “I spend all this time falling into your arms, and you don’t even try to sneak a feel.” Really? At least her clumsiness makes sense now. However, I was more stupid… relying on my ability to keep sensing and reacting to her stumbles. I could have unknowingly made her aware of my ability. “You really are a nice guy, huh?” she adds while continuing to “write” on her thigh. I hesitate. I give up ignoring her actions and watch her slender finger glide across her smooth, glistening skin. “I’m… really trying to be.” Ms. Marilyn giggles loudly. Her voice echoes throughout the lobby. “You don’t have to be with me. We’re in college now. It’s all about having fun.” Funny. I was told it’s all about the rest of your life and how you choose to spend it. Even though I haven’t quite ironed out all those details yet, nothing could have prepared me for the next few seconds. Ms. Marilyn abruptly grabs both bags of chips, places them on the other side of her, and swings a leg across my lap. Before I can get a thought, her face is only a couple inches from mine… that same playful smile. But she has me pinned, straddled between her legs and acting as if I’m someone she’s known for years. I can’t help but stare back into those blue eyes. “Let me guess,” she whispers while pressing her right palm against my chest, “you’re a virgin?” I break eye contact instantly and feel my body tense up. How did I even get myself into this position on my first day on campus? My entire plan was to not get close to anyone for the next four years. Still, Ms. Marilyn has me at her mercy, and I don’t want to suddenly push her off just to put some distance between us. I form my lips to ask her to get off, but she giggles and moves her face to keep it within my vision. “That’s okay,” she hurriedly adds. Her warm left hand gently strokes my cheek. I fidget at first, but when she does it again… I just let her. The wide grin on her face tells me she knows I’ve given in. She’s in complete control, and I know she shouldn’t be. I just cannot bring myself to tell her to move before she leans in and briefly—tauntingly—licks my top lip. “Everyone’s a virgin at first.” Her words whisper into my ear. I’m little more than a statue, not wanting to hold her close and encourage her to continue sending shivers through my body. Unfortunately, another part of my body—against my will—chooses not to be as still. She realizes it and squirms a bit to provoke me further. “Stop that,” I manage, barely above a whisper and with no depth of authority at all.

“Why?” she fires back. “You clearly don’t mind me being here.” She raises up slightly on her knees, extends her arms past either side of my head, and slowly sways her hips to music only audible inside her head. She tilts her head back and lets an almost silent moan slip from her lips while she pushes her bosom into my face. I catch the slightest scent of strawberries and quickly press my lips against her flesh, just above her cleavage. Ms. Marilyn gasps and looks down at me, feigning shock. A second later, she giggles. “I didn’t think you’d have the nerve.” Crap! I shouldn’t have done that! I quickly grab her by the waist and, as gently as I can manage, shift her weight off me. “Sorry… I can’t…” She flops into the corner of the sofa, crushing the bags of chips beneath her thighs. She pays them no attention though. She just silently stares back at me for several seconds. I can’t see any anger, disappointment, or frustration in those eyes, and it makes me more nervous than curious. My right index finger tugs at the cuticle on my thumb. The uncomfortable silence drags on a few seconds longer. Is she waiting for an explanation or something? I really do not know what she wants me to say. She sighs deeply, breaking the silence and shifts her posture to grab the bags beneath her. In the next breath, she extends her legs across my lap and hands me my ranch tortilla chips while that same smile graces her lips again. “I like you, Karl,” she simply blurts out without breaking her gaze from me. With a smirk, she plucks a sour cream and onion chip from her bag and takes a single small bite from it before waving the rest in front of my face. “Maybe one day, you’ll actually like me too.” I blink. “What?” “So, how good of an artist are you?” she immediately asks, blatantly changing the subject. “Could you draw me if I posed for you?” I am still reeling from the blunt statement of her feelings, and she’s already jumped tracks to another train of thought. But to be honest, I would rather not discuss how I feel about her… mainly because I really don’t know how I feel. So… “Probably not. My style has a more cartoonish feel.” I explain to her how I grew up watching cartoons and reading comics… how it made me realize that I want to entertain people the same way. I want to whisk them away into a fantasy world, where they can temporarily forget the troubles of this one. Surprisingly, Ms. Marilyn then confides that’s partly why she wants to be an actress. Performing in front of others gives her a release from reality, where she can embrace the thoughts and feelings of someone else and lose herself in their life. I had never really thought of what actors and actresses went through to pull off some of the best portrayals I’ve seen. If nothing else, she made me believe she has the heart of an actress. She even gets up on one of the coffee tables and acts out a scene from one of her favorite films—Lady Hampton’s Requiem—for me and a handful of spectators who happen to wander through the union. “How should I respond, when you’ve given the remainder of my life a clock that constantly ticks in reverse? You expect me to remain calm and accept that my time on this earth has come to an end? I am not some senile old lady, resigned to accept the ridiculous hand of cards fate has dealt me! No… I will use every second—every breath—to deny this supposed fate! As long as these crippling hands still burn with the passion fueled from my beating heart, they will mold… a miracle!” I sit and listen to each word, her delivery of each defiant phrase, and the frailty yet strength behind her graceful movements. I see it instantly. She has acted this specific scene out many times before. But since she actually manages to shed a tear during the impromptu performance, I wonder if there’s a deeper attachment to that scene.

I don’t find out. By the time we finish talking, it’s dark. Our chips are long gone, and we both agree to head back to the dorm for the night. It wasn’t the way I planned to spend the day, but I don’t have any complaints either. I know where I’ll be heading Monday morning, and despite the kiss, I really did enjoy spending the day with Marilyn. Guess I can drop the “Ms.” now. Weird as she is, I think I’ll be able to tolerate her for as long as we’re staying in the same dorm. However, part of me still hopes today is a fluke, and she’ll have lost interest by tomorrow. I will feel more comfortable if I can return to “Plan A” and become the most anti-social person on campus. As we leave the union through the food court’s exit, I notice the campus looks much different at night. Scattered along the streets and walkways weaving the grounds are numerous, lit street lamps that give the area a serene glow while crickets chirp their overlapping tunes. Marilyn pauses for a moment to take in the scene. “You know…” she starts, but is cut off by a tune from her phone. For some reason, it sounds familiar, but I can’t figure out why. Curiously, she checks the screen, and a wide smile almost instantly spreads across her face. She holds up a finger to me and steps out of earshot while answering the call. I nod slightly. For a brief moment, I feel taken aback… as if someone is infringing on our time. But then I remember my place and settle down after a breath. Why in the world should I care who she’s talking to? And more importantly, what business is it of mine? Absolutely none. I return my attention to the peaceful campus and note the arrangement of buildings beyond the union’s parking lot. Narrow roads separate each structure, and a couple have sparsely filled parking lots visible from where I stand. My first guess is they’re all dormitories, especially since all of my classes are in buildings on the opposite side of the union. I notice a light colored sedan slowly driving down one of the roads, heading away from the union. I think I can use the scene to practice mood setting as well as sketching backgrounds. I make a mental note to return here tomorrow night before returning my attention to Marilyn. Her call had apparently ended. Gripping the phone tightly in her hand, she stares blankly at the ground and huffs. Feeling a frown creasing my brow, I lower my head slightly and ask, “You okay?” A smile quickly claims her face as she turns to me. “You know it.” Liar. This time, her smile doesn’t even look the same as earlier. Whatever that call was about, she doesn’t care to share it… which suits me just fine. “But can you do me a favor? Can we take a picture together? You’re my first friend here, and I want to show you off to my sister.” Was it her sister on the phone? I shrug. “I guess so.” “Yay!” she enthusiastically cheers before pressing a couple icons on her phone’s screen and snuggling next to me. She raises the phone and aims it down at her face. I have to crouch slightly to see my face next to hers in the frame of her phone. She poses with a flirty pout, and I manage a smirk before she snaps the pic. The flash temporarily blinds me, but Marilyn hastily goes to work pressing icons before I can blink away the spot in my vision. “Thanks, Karl. I owe you.” What? What did that mean? “Owe me for what?”

“Being so nice,” she quickly responds while beckoning for me to follow her. “Come on. We should hurry back.” I don’t know if she’s back to her normal self, but I don’t ask any questions about the call as we head back. Everyone deserves privacy in their own matters, and at no point do I want to come off as a guy who butts into someone’s personal business. Marilyn helps make things easier on me by focusing on our photo. She even sends a copy to my cell after I reluctantly give her my number—something else that wasn’t part of my original plan. I silently hope she chooses not to use it often. In any case, it’s done now. We get back to McFadden Hall and a number of people are scattered about, on the front patio and in the lobby… more than the number earlier. Music fills the night air from some source I can’t spot and sends Marilyn into an instant hip-swaying mood. She uses her card to let me in the building before joining the other dancers outside without so much as a good night. I feel slightly disappointed, but it might be the nudge I need to head up to bed and put today behind me. No, wait. My stomach’s still a little grumbly. After a couple random “hey”s to new faces I remember glimpsing earlier, I eye the snack machine down. There’s a jumbo honey bun with my name on it sitting on the bottom row that’ll do nicely once I run up to my room and get my own ID card from my wallet. I hurry upstairs and notice music coming from one of the rooms on my floor. It suddenly dawns on me that I may not want to study in my room all the time. Possible music and foot traffic on the halls may be more distracting than I would’ve guessed. However, a more disturbing thought hits me with each step I take towards my room. My pace increases and seconds later, I realize the music is coming from my room. “No,” I mutter to myself over and over as I approach the door. My eyes squinted shut, thoughts pleading to the universe, I lean in closer and almost immediately hear a female’s moan from the other side of the door. With clenched fists, I bite my tongue and slip away from the door as quietly as I could manage. The universe sucks and Darryl even more so for not being able to keep it in his pants through the first day. However, as upset as I am about not being able to get my card yet, another thought fills the forefront of my mind… “They better not be on my bed.” My grumbling stomach and I head back downstairs to the festivities. I end up meeting a few people in my dorm and a couple from Bowen Hall, the dorm “next door”. Apparently, the RAs for both had decided to arrange tonight’s soiree for freshmen… another attempt to get us comfortable with our new environment. Whatever. Who am I to deny others of an experience they’ll enjoy? For a few seconds, I watch Marilyn through the window, dancing against some dark-haired guy several inches taller than her. His hands hold her waist when she leans back into his chest and lifts her hands to caress his face. I turn my head. I’m an idiot. Even as I head towards the lobby’s rear entrance—which leads to the parking lot—I silently curse myself for being such an idiot. Before exiting, I remember that I still don’t have my card. My eyes scan the grounds, searching for something heavy I can use to wedge the door open. I’m so distracted that I don’t notice the guy sitting on the wooden bench a few feet away until he speaks with a raspy voice. “I’ll let you back in.” “Thanks,” I respond with a nod. Letting the door close behind me, I exhale heavily and deal with the thoughts combating within my skull. I’m not stupid enough to deny what I’m feeling. But why the heck am I feeling jealous? Marilyn is barely a friend. I should not care what she does or who she does it with! Of course, I probably wouldn’t have even seen her again tonight if my idiot of a roommate had been down here instead. Yep, I was right… School still sucks.

Inhaling deeply, I close my eyes and relax. The music echoes off the walls of our dorm and Bowen’s, just beyond our parking lot. I can almost count the number of people moving about inside the lobby and the front patio. A couple of them are harder to sense because they’re practically motionless, including the guy sitting on the bench near me. “You meditatin’?” he asks, breaking my concentration. My eyes open. After a second, I answer, “Something like that.” The guy removes something from his mouth before puffing out a thick cloud of smoke that drifts skyward. “Need a smoke? Might help.” “No thanks,” I quickly respond. “I don’t smoke.” The guy shrugs and returns the thing to his mouth. I assume it’s a cigarette, but all I can make out is the lit end of it. The guy is partially concealed by the shadow of a high shrub near the wall of the building, and the light above the lobby entrance was out. An eerie sensation comes over me, but I tell myself this is what I should expect. There are many different types of people in the world. Being in this place will expose me to a few of them, so I need to get used to the differences and stop feeling uneasy around new faces… including those I can’t really see. Might as well make the best out of the night and head back inside until my roommate and his company return to the lobby. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll manage to meet some generous soul willing to drop sixty-five cents for a jumbo honey bun. Pfft… Yeah, right. I can’t help but smirk. Still, I turn to head back inside, and the guy sitting on the bench stands as if on cue. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out an ID card and swipes it through the reader before I even reach the door handle. “Thanks,” I say with a nod that avoids looking him in the face and inhaling the remnants of his smoke. “No problem,” he responds, already heading back to the bench. It’s just the first day. There’ll be plenty of chances to meet him properly later when my mind is a bit more settled. The rest of the night trudges on slowly, mainly because my stomach fusses at me nearly the entire time. Fortunately, the music was loud enough to keep that disagreement between me and my gut. I end up talking to a handful of people whose names I manage to stick to faces. Niantha, Sylvester, Brooke, Takanosuke, Cahal… a couple interesting, a couple not so much. But I’m starting to learn that first impressions don’t really amount to much. If I start to pay attention to the faces as the days pass, then I’ll decide if I want to interact with them more than a passing “hello.” Unfortunately, the face I wait for doesn’t make an appearance after nearly an hour. A second hour works its way by and still no Darryl. My patience runs dry, and I march upstairs. When I reach our floor, I immediately notice the music has stopped. I hope that’s a good sign, but then, why hadn’t he come back down? I reach into my pocket for the room’s key as I near the door. To stay cautious, I slink up to the door and lean in again. Fortunately, no moaning, but after a few seconds, I don’t hear any type of sound from the other side. I can deal with them being asleep, but to make absolutely sure, I wait just a few seconds more. Still nothing. Steeling myself, I quietly slip the key into the lock and give it a near silent turn. I give the knob the same treatment and slowly push the door inward.

Light from the hallway peaks inside the room, giving me just enough vision to see my wallet sitting on the desk next to the door. I eagerly snatch it up before noticing Darryl had replaced the light bulb over the featureless vanity with a black light bulb that was still on, giving the rest of the room a creepy glow. I take a half-step inside the room to see how everything looked under the black light. My eyes adjust to the shadows after a few moments, but that’s when I notice a few random, bright splotches scattered about the floor. I feel my face frown in confusion, but only for the couple seconds it takes me to realize what they are. My head whips around. My teeth grind. One bigger, nasty spot is on my bed! And the moment my eye catches it, my mattress creaks and the spot shifts slightly! I exhale loudly and uncontrollably, but it sounds more like a growl in my ears. But since I don’t actually want to get arrested for double homicide, I snatch up my wallet and force my body to step back into the hall. The door closes, not remotely quiet, and I even manage to lock it before yanking the key out and shoving it back into my pocket. How in the hell could he be stupid enough to do something like that?! It takes every ounce of control I have to maintain what little focus I can muster to get back downstairs to the snack machine. Even the honey bun tastes bitter a minute later when I start wolfing it down. I don’t even know how to start calming myself. The only thoughts coming to forefront of my mind involve malicious, gruesome murder and the absolute incineration of every fabric covering my bed. Heh… My bed. Haven’t even slept in it yet. Really don’t want to now. Fortunately, the crowd has thinned a bit, and Marilyn is nowhere to be seen. I don’t have to talk to a soul while finishing off the honey bun, and I know that’s best for me. It feels like everything inside me is just waiting to erupt the next time I try to speak a single word. After a minute, I decide it’s better to not risk it and leave the dorm. Though the campus is mostly silent, I don’t really pay attention to much else. I just need a while to let the anger drain out of me to the point where I don’t want to bash someone’s skull in. Ugh… still need to walk some more. I’m not sure how much time passes, but when my legs start to ache, I reluctantly head back to McFadden. In hindsight, walking again probably wasn’t the best idea. I probably worked up more hunger and added to the problem I’ll be having tomorrow morning. Fatigue seeps its way into more than just my legs as the dorm comes within view. All the music seems to have stopped. The lights in the lobby appear to be turned off as well. As I reach the walkway leading up to the front door, I see a figure loitering at the entrance. Upon noticing me, the figure hastily heads in my direction. In only a few seconds, she passes under the illumination of a lamppost and I can clearly see the oversized, tie-dye shirt that could have easily doubled as a loose, short dress on her figure. “What are you doing up?” I ask, my voice carrying more irritation than intended. “What are you doing out?” Marilyn fires back. “I thought you were heading to bed until I saw you leave the dorm earlier.” She gestures toward an open window on the third floor which I assume is her room. “Didn’t want me tagging along?” I huff and continue walking around her. My mind isn’t calm enough to deal with her nagging tone, and the last thing I want is to start a fight over something that doesn’t even involve her. But Marilyn doesn’t let up. I already hear the footsteps of her bare feet on concrete running up behind me. She grips my arm and pulls, stopping my pace.