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Days as a Freshman: 87

Mood: Kinda freaked

“So, should we start?”

As much as I could have stared back and forth from Sasha’s eyes to his friend’s bare chest forever, I didn’t want to spend my entire Saturday at the Soccer House. Eventually, the rest of the guys were going to wake up, and I wanted to be out of there before I was surrounded by some of the most infamous people on campus.

Maybe the rumors weren’t true. Maybe the Scandal everyone was still whispering about had been blown out of proportion, but as far as I knew, Sammy still wasn’t in class, and Public Safety had been seen patrolling around the Soccer House at night way more than usual.

Rumors always come from somewhere, and I wanted to be out the door before I found out just how close to the truth they were.

“Sure. Let’s start. I just gotta run upstairs and grab my book.” Sasha stood, kicking the table in the process and flinching. “Of course I forgot my book. Be right back.”

Jumping over the side of the couch and heading toward the stairs, Sasha clunked up the steps, his bare feet making enough noise on the old wood to wake up the entire house.

I stared down at my Chemistry book, turning the pages and pretending to be so interested in the equations that I had no idea the half-undressed guy was still in the kitchen, rummaging around in the refrigerator. I let my hair fall into my face, doing my best to stay quiet and blend into the old green cushions. Read More »

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Days as a Freshman: 64

Mood: pissed off

“Campbell!”

As the soccer boys stomped over to us, I felt myself pushing against my hard, black chair, wishing I could use it as camouflage. Everything about them was loud; the way the walked, shoving wayward chairs and tables out of their way, the heaviness of their boots on the linoleum, the shouts they threw back and forth at each other, even their energy made too much noise, the small atrium cafe seeming suddenly much too tight and airless.

“You missed the meeting, man!” Pulling a chair over to our table and sitting on it backwards, the loudest and biggest of the soccer boys pushed Sasha’s shoulder playfully, but hard enough to almost throw him off his chair. “It was a shit show. A total shit show.”

The two other soccer boys, dressed in almost identical blue sweatpants, white shirts, and blue baseball caps, stood on either side of Sasha. Their eyes slid over to me. I looked down, staring at the bobbing teabag in my cup.

“Coach was there. He told the student life people to calm down. But not before they put the whole f*cking house on probation.” Still ignoring me, the head soccer guy pulled his own baseball cap over his face. “No parties for a while, man. At least none that they hear about.”

“So they didn’t…did they ever find out if anything really happened?” Read More »