Hmm.

I think I'm suffering from a serious case of bored.

oOoOoOo

Chapter 9: Isn't it Ironic?

I was…freezing.

Which was weird, because it was only, what, early September? And my dormitory didn't have air conditioning. Sure, the frozen months of the year tended to feel a bit warm at times due to the unnecessary infestation of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere, but I was pretty sure that it didn't work vice-versa: the warm months were not supposed to feel cold.

Exiting Post, I wrapped my arms tightly around my body and slid my hands into the thin sleeves of my zip-up, stopping dead in my tracks as I took in my surroundings.

The ground was covered in frost, the trees were bare—even the evergreens—all the colors looked dull and stale, and my breath was visible, surrounding my face in a thin, white cloud. I debated turning around and heading back into the dorm to change into something warmer, but when I did, I found the area behind me…empty.

"What the…?"

I'm sorry, I may be somewhat crazy at times, but I was pretty sure that it was quite uncommon for a tall, red-brick building to disappear into thin air…

At least that's what the elaborate and complex laws of physics told me.

What the hell did I ingest last night that could've possibly caused me to be…seeing these things? I didn't sample anything that was served at Pam and Abena's party—something that Kat had insisted we attend—nor was I there long enough for anything in the atmosphere to get to my head. So…what the hell was going on? Had I been lobotomized? Had my brainstem suddenly and unnaturally severed? Was my cerebrum enduring the fatal pre-stages of implosion?

Was I dead?

I turned back around and scanned the area for any signs of life: a student, a teacher—hell, at this point, I would have been happy to see a fricken squirrel. But I didn't see anyone. Not even a parked car.

Breathing deeply, I decided, instead of panicking and screaming bloody murder, to climb the hill and see if there was anyone roaming around in the distance. That way, I'd know I wasn't utterly alone in my insanity.

Careful not to slip, I tiptoed my way through the stiffened grass and began my brief ascent, stopping part-way to catch my breath and throw my hood over my head. That's when something rather unsettling dawned on me:

Why the fuck was this taking so goddamn long?

Whirling around, I gasped to find that I had climbed almost 20 feet; which made no sense, considering the hill was no more than 9 or 10.

Okay. Now it was time to panic.

Kicking hard off my back-most leg, I hurled myself forward, using both my hands and legs to assist me in my desperate scramble upwards. But no matter how hard or fast I pushed myself, I never got any closer to the top. It was like I was running in place, on a treadmill, trapped in a single moment in time. What didn't help matters was that I had a terrible stitch in my side and I felt like I was going to pass out from lack of oxygen; or maybe it was hypothermia. I was feeling kind of tired…

Suddenly I tripped and fell onto the ground, my limbs growing numb as they're warmth collided with the coldness of the earth. I lay there for a few seconds, breathing deeply before finding the strength and courage to push myself up and open my eyes.

The ground. It was even. Flat. Like a pancake.

Twisting my head around, I looked back to see that the hill had, somehow, leveled out behind me, leading into what appeared to be a vast, open space.

Oh God. Someone must have slipped me some acid or something. There was no other plausible explanation. Not unless I really was dead, or dreaming, or…

Stumbling to my feet, I brushed myself off and looked around. The rest of the campus looked relatively normal, the cafeteria/boys dorm on the left, CFA in front, and the quads to the right. But, in the midst of everything, I noticed something else as well: sitting towards the middle of Post lawn sat a dark-haired boy and girl, her head resting in front of his shoulder, his arm around her lower back. Clenching and unclenching my fists to keep my blood circulating, I slowly began to approach them, a knot contorting in my stomach with each step I took. As I neared, I noticed that she had both arms around his waste and was laughing. At…nothing. I mean, he wasn't saying anything—at least that I could hear, so…I couldn't decide whether to feel like I was merely missing something, or recoil in fear of getting bitten by what appeared to be a rabid woman.

Just then, he turned his head towards her, his hair shielding his face, and, with his free hand, lifted her chin and kissed her, causing her to laugh even more.

Closing my eyes, I took a couple of steps backwards, breathing deeply before prying them open. The boy and girl were now standing, facing me, he on the left, she on the right. She had her hand on her hip and was smirking. Like she knew something I didn't. And he…he was just staring at me; like he was in shock, or something. I gaped back at them in horror, blinking rapidly in an effort to discern who they were, if anyone. For all I knew, they could have been mere figments of my imagination—ghosts left to wander the earth for all eternity. Or maybe…

Suddenly, everything began to grow dark and hazy, like I was slowly going blind, until all I could see were their unmoving faces, unblinking eyes, staring, like statues, forever frozen in a fading world…

And then…nothing.

I opened my eyes and stared up at the crack in the ceiling until my eyes blurred and I was forced to blink.

Okay.

That was officially the last time I chugged fruity-flavored V8 juice before stumbling off to bed.

I think the antioxidants were starting to get to my head.

oOoOoOo

I sat staring out one of the large bay windows of my suite, my arms resting comfortably on the top of the soft green couch, my chin on my wrists, and brain in the toilet. My roommate was going to be there any moment and she had called to ask me to watch out for her in the event she couldn't find the right entrance to our building; which was understandable, considering there were lots of them, and not all of them led to the same place. It was fine with me, though, especially since I had nothing better to do with my time at the moment. Our coach was giving us a couple of days off—shocking, I know—because we'd placed so well up in Davenport, and, as a result, we were all left bored our of our minds.

Well, at least I was.

I wasn't particularly looking forward to the huge influx that was going to engulf our quiet, cozy campus over the next few days, and yet, at the same time I was. While it may have meant that I'd have to do a little bit more socializing—God forbid—it also meant that the unyielding routine I'd been ensnared in over the past few weeks was going to break and I'd be able to go off and create one of my own—not that I didn't enjoy hanging out with the team every hour of every day (especially certain members that Kat and I found to be rather easy on the eyes). It was just that I had this pit in my stomach, nauseating and nerve-wracking, that refused to go away, and after trying everything from screaming into a pillow to banging my head against the wall, I figured some space, distance, alone time—whatever the hell you wanna call it, would do me some good…

Especially since Mr. Anderson went ahead and decided that it was okay to pretend. To talk to me. To touch me. I mean, who the fuck did he think he was? My friend?

I closed my eyes and dug my chin deeper into my wrists. I'd been trying to get my anger to ebb, but nothing seemed to be working. I mean, it was one thing to reach out to me, to show me that he remembered and that it meant something to him, but it was a whole 'nother thing to add to the layers of accumulating ice and go on ignoring me like before. Because that's exactly what he was doing: ever since our race up in Iowa, he hadn't so much as breathed in my direction. I didn't know if it was a guy thing, if he was being shy, stupid, ignorant, or ridiculous, but what I did know was that his actions surpassed all levels of rational judgment and comprehension.

And that pissed me off.

You know, I had finally gotten to a place where I felt comfortable enough to step outside shell, make new friends, and put my trust in other's hands. It'd taken me a while and I'd made many mistakes along the way, but after four years of high school, I really felt I had made progress. And then, after everything…this had to go and happen—whatever "this" was. But it happened. Hell, it still was. I thought that once things had gotten better for me, after I had somehow managed to scramble back up that god-forsaken hill, they would stay that way. Not deteriorate. Not reverse. Not cause me to trip and fall once I'd made it to the top.

I blamed every step I'd tumbled within the last few weeks on him. He'd fooled with my emotions once.

I'd be damned if he was to do it again.

"Hey you! How's it going?"

Startled, I twisted around in my seat and directed my gaze up towards the narrow catwalk situated along the second story of the suite, watching as Jaime descended the small stairway that connected the two levels. She was dressed in a short black skirt, tight white blouse, and black flats; which, to me, was pretty extravagant considering the circumstances. I smiled. "Fine, thanks." Trying not to sound nosy, I added: "Don't you look fancy."

She laughed, running a hand through her long, dark-brown hair as she said: "Yeah. Got a hot date, so I figured I'd go all out."

My gaze flickered over towards the miniature analogue clock that hung to the left of the window. "At three in the afternoon?"

She nodded, pausing in the middle of the suite to dig through her black-leather purse. "Yeah, I thought it was a little weird too." She paused to look up at me. "He just told me to dress nice and meet him downstairs at 3:15, so…I dunno. I'm assuming it's a surprise."

I smirked, nodding slowly as I said: "Well, kudos to him for finding something sophisticated to do in this unstipulated, little hick-town." I paused, adding as an afterthought: "Is he from here? Like the Galesburg-Peoria area?"

She shook her head. "No. He lives, like…way far away. I forget where, though."

Geeze. We'd only been on campus for, what? 13 days? And the dating had already started. Why did I get the feeling that many of my future experiences were going to mirror those of high school?

Oh, wait. I know.

Because they were.

"Hmm. Well, have fun tonight—I mean today."

"Ha, ha. Thanks!" She smiled, pausing halfway towards the door. "Wait, your roommate's coming in today, isn't she?" I nodded. "Cool! Tell her I said 'hi'!" And with that, she was gone.

Resuming my previous position, I slowly blinked and sighed.

At least she didn't live next door to me.

oOoOoOo

Well.

This was…interesting.

I watched as Natalie positioned yet another poster on the wall above her pink and white bed. This time, it was a rather disturbing one of David Bowie with some freakish-looking puppet things cradling an infant. I looked back down at my book, puckered my lips, and exhaled.

And I thought I'd seen it all.

We hadn't said much to one another since her arrival the day before, and yet, from her newly posted colorful display, I could still say that I knew quite a bit about her. I mean, there was stuff from Mustangs, to Harry Potter, to anime, to celebrities (although, I refused to count David Bowie as one of them). And while it all may have looked somewhat crowed and disorganized, it still made my side of the room look dull in comparison.

Another thing that took me by surprise was her appearance: for one thing, she was tall—like 5'8", 5'10" to be exact. I don't know why, but for some reason, I'd been expecting someone my height…or maybe I'd just been hoping for one. She made me feel awfully short.

Secondly, she had a little extra meat on her bones, however I was happy to see that she knew how to dress to accommodate that (you have no idea how many girls I'd met that'd probably never been acquainted with the word "modesty"). Thirdly, it turned out she was biracial: her mother was white and her father was black. This made her skin much lighter in contrast to what I'd thought it'd be, making me feel kinda silly for assuming otherwise. Lastly, her hair was short, brown and curly, and covered in light blonde streaks from root to tip: something I thought looked rather nice on her.

Overall, she seemed pretty cool, and I hoped that the two of us would somehow—regardless of David Bowie—learn to get along.

Just then, my phone began to vibrate across my desk while simultaneously emitting the boisterous chorus of Pump It. As I leaned over the railing of my bed to grab it, I heard Natalie say: "Oh my gosh. That used to be my ring tone up until a few months ago! How freaky is that?"

I shot her a semi-shocked expression, my mouth set in a strange, open-mouthed smile as I flipped open my phone and replied: "Pretty freaky…hello?"

"Hey."

I hadn't gotten the chance to look at who was calling me, so I was slightly baffled when I heard Kim's voice on the other line. "Hi. What's up?"

"Nuthin', muffin'. I'm just stuck at the airport…still, and couldn't think of anyone else to help me alleviate my boredom other than you. I mean, have you ever tried talking to Andy on the phone? —What am I saying, of course you have! So you're well acquainted with the repercussions."

I raised a curious brow. Okay, so she had called me as promised, but it was only to sit and complain about how bored she was. Well…it was a start I supposed. "Wait a minute. Weren't you supposed to leave a few days ago?"

She sighed. "All the freshman were, yeah. But something weird happened and the administration had to push to arrival date back a few days. Don't ask me what it was because I couldn't tell you."

"Hmm. That is kinda weird."

Kim sighed "Yeah, I know. Andy was thinking that maybe aliens had landed and started to go through this entire monologue of how they probably disembarked at Berkeley in this giant, phallic-shaped ship with the sinister intention to impregnate all of the female students with their flesh-eating seed, and…well, I dunno. That's about the time I hung up on him."

I laughed. "What a dork."

"Tell me about it."

Our conversation lasted, maybe, a half hour, most of which she took up with the continuation of the story of Andy, Mike, and the broken door. I couldn't help but notice that she never apologized for hanging up on me, nor did she remember that I had something important to tell her…which is why I decided not to tell her. What was the point? It was my burden to bear; something that I had to learn to deal with. I'd had enough people dump their problems on me in the past; there was no reason for me to do the same. Besides, I didn't want Kim relaying the information to anyone. She could be a bit of a "blurter" sometimes.

"Well…it's been fun, but my flight's supposed to arrive any moment, so I'd better go."

"Okay. Is your Mom there with you?"

"No. My Dad is. My Mom hates airports, remember?"

I pretended to laugh. "Oh yeah. My bad."

"Yeah, well…he doesn't appear to be within the immediate vicinity, so I'm going to go hunt him down: I'd sent him off to get me a Starbucks like ten minutes ago. Perfect timing, huh? Talk to ya later, kay?"

"Yeah. See ya." Click.

I slowly snapped my phone shut and gently tossed it back onto my desk. I'd been hoping that making some long-awaited contact with her would make me feel better about our situation, but, for some reason it was making me feel worse…

"Friend of yours?"

I looked over at Natalie, who was busy putting up a fancy-looking poster of what appeared to be Hogwarts. Her gaze flickered between me and her task a couple times before I replied: "Oh. Yeah."

I think.

oOoOoOo

"Okay. Now that I've finally gotten all of you in one place, what do you say we begin? I know, I know, this is probably the last thing you all want to be doing on your first night here, but it's gotta be done. So. Let's start simple, with introductions, and from there we'll move onto more pressing matters, like schedules, appointments, questions and concerns, etc. Sound good? Cool. Um…I guess we can just go around in a circle—oh. When you give you name, I want you to also say one word that you think best describes yourself. The catch: the word must begin with the first letter of your first name."

I struggled to suppress a groan.

God, it was like third grade all over again.

"I'll start: My name is Sashi Rajarama, and I'm super."

Okay. Make that second grade…

She turned her head towards Jaime, who was sitting on her right. "Why don't you go next?"

It'd taken almost the entire day, but, after much lugging, sweating, and cursing, Post 4's suite was finally complete. It was approximately 9:30 on Monday night, and, after much screaming and bickering, all 16 of us were obediently stationed in a somewhat messy circle in the now-cramped common room. Sashi, the 17th member of the group, sat at the head atop a small table. Being the RA, it was her job to help us make a smooth, semi-stress-free transition into the Knox way of life: a job that, regardless of the fact that it entitled you to a free double-single, I would never take upon myself.

Ever.

Unlike most of the girls who were sprawled on the floor, I, having arrived early, had been fortunate enough to snag one of the couch spots along with two other girls. As I stared blankly across the room at Jaime, I couldn't help but wonder if Kat was having as much fun as I was. She lived on a co-ed floor with dudes—hot ones, might I add. I dunno who was there now, but I had a feeling that it wasn't going to get much better than the curly-blonde "Soccer Boy" that lived directly across from her cramped double.

He liked to walk around shirtless.

The girl sitting next to Jaime had long brown hair and brown eyes. She jumped with a start when she realized that it was her turn to speak. "Oh! Yeah. Sorry. I'm a bit out of it, if you can't already tell." She smiled and waved. "Hey, my name's Stephanie, and I'm silly."

A tall, pale girl with short blonde hair spoke up next: "Hi. I'm Sam, and I'm silly too, but I probably have to come up with a new word, don't I?" Sashi nodded. "Hmm…oh! I know. My name is Sam and I'm smart." She smiled and laughed at this. Some other people did too. I, for one, did not.

"Hey. My name's Natalie, and I'm nifty!"

Oh Lord. Somebody shoot me now. Please, before I change my mind.

The next girl in line had shoulder-length, dirty blonde hair and a very quiet, breathy voice: "Hey, my name's Amanda and I'm amazing."

Sweet! She didn't take mine. 'Cause if she had, I would have had probably had to strangle her…

Okay, maybe not. But I would've wanted to none-the-less.

A semi-chunky girl with pale-blonde hair was next: "Hi. My name is Claire…wait, are we supposed to be giving our last names?" She looked over at Sashi who merely shrugged, as if to say: "If you want." Claire nodded. "Okay, well my name is Claire Fisher and I'm cool."

I smiled. There was something about her that I liked. I dunno what it was, but…it just seemed as if, by just looking at her, you could tell that she was a genuinely nice person.

Next, a tall, big-boned girl with short, blonde-streaked hair loudly proclaimed: "Hey, my name is Karen and I'm…cool, but with a 'k'. Yeah? Yeah? …No? Really? (sigh) Okay fine. I'm…kind. I guess."

Tch. Nice try Karen, but Sashi's rules were written in stone. Didn't you see her etching them just before we began this semi-waste of time? Hmm? …Okay. So maybe I was being a bit bitter. Whaddya want from me?

I missed my freaking cat.

Amanda, Claire, Karen…me. Yes. It was my turn now. Good thing I happened to notice the 16 pairs of eyes that had simultaneously glued themselves to my slouched figure. Otherwise, I would have sat staring stupidly into space while impatiently wondering what was taking so goddamn long for the next person to speak. "Hi." I lifted my hand off the arm rest for a brief moment. "My name's Alexandra and I'm awesome."

And don't you forget it.

The girl sitting next to me was quite a character. I had met her in the stairwell that afternoon: she had a huge box in her hands labeled "junk 'n stuff", and I, being the kind soul that I was, offered to help her carry it to her room. Her name was Margaret, but preferred to be called Maggie. Her hair was long and dark, her eyes were framed by purple-ish framed glasses, and her body was curiously round in shape. She seemed pretty cool, but I'd only known her for like, six or seven hours, so my opinion was open for change.

She described herself as being "magnificent", which, considering the circumstances, was probably true. After all, the luck bastard…ess had somehow managed to swipe one of the only two singles in the entire suite, the other of which belonged to a junior who was only living there because…well, I dunno why she was living there, but she was. Maybe she was a transfer student from another state. Or country. Or Continent—fuck if I knew. Her name was pretty through: Anjali. Wonder where she was from…

Anyhoo, the other girls that followed Maggie all seemed nice enough. There was this one girl, though, that struck me somewhat wrong. Her name was Terri. She considered herself to be "terrific". I, on the other hand, had a "terrible" feeling that she was going to be trouble, what with her long, curly blonde hair, hick-ish accent, and uber petite-ness that rivaled even my dad's grandmother…

Okay. I may have been being a bit judgmental, but still. It was weird that I'd gotten the feeling. I mean, she wasn't gorgeous or anything. In fact, one could say that she was a bit on the chunky side. I dunno. I wasn't the jealous type. I just…I had a feeling. Therefore, I was going to be careful. Because one could never be too careful when it came to living with 15 other girls that they knew absolutely nothing about, aside from a hastily conjured adverb/adjective and maybe a surname here or there.

Yeah. So my paranoia was speaking out of turn again. Sue me.

"Okay. Now that we all know each other's names, I think it's safe to move onto stage two of the introduction process." Sashi paused to rummage through a red, yellow, and orange bag she had stationed on her right. What she pulled out was the last think I expected to see: "Now, I'm going to pass this roll of toilet paper around—weird as it may seem—but what I want you to do is tear off as many sheets as you see fit and then pass the roll on to the next person. When you've all finished, I will explain the rest of the rules of this simple game."

I sunk lower into my seat, all the while trying not to glare at the ceiling.

Hey.

I thought I'd told you to shoot me, dammit.

oOoOoOo

The next week passed in somewhat of a blur. I mean, really. I couldn't tell you what I did on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, or even Friday, aside from "orientation crap", "cross country shit" and "sleeping with an occasional side of eating". It was awful. Torturous. Boring asfucking hell.

I won't even get into what we did in those groups. It's not worth repeating. It was a pointless waste of my life. True, I did meet a few cool people, including this one girl named Anne who I think lives in Kat's suite, but other than that, it sucked. I'd just have to remember to file those insidious memories away in some isolated and irrelevant place in the back of my brain: perhaps a small, white filing cabinet labeled "to be incinerated" or "please disregard". Otherwise, I'd never forget them.

And that would suck even more.

Speaking of Kat…

I'd been hanging out at the quirky blonde's lot lately, regardless of the fact that I now had my own suite members to better acquaint myself with. I guess, for some reason, because I had already established a comfortable click, small as it may be, I didn't see the point of dealing with the whole "getting to know" process all over again. That isn't to say that I was never around Post 4. I was. In fact, just the other day, I hung out with Maggie and this girl from the suite below ours—a redhead named Jessica—in the basement for like three hours, but…for the most part I stuck to the third floor of Sherwin. Apparently, now that Kat's suite had filled out, she deemed it more "convenient" for me to come to her as opposed to the other way around. Which was fine. I mean, she had the boys after all.

What did I have to complain about other than a short, five minute trek through the heat?

As much fun as it was to watch Soccer Boy walk around shirtless, I think the highlight of my week—thus far anyway—was choosing my classes. I was only permitted to choose two this term as opposed to three because of the stupid "Freshman Preceptorial" course all first years were required to take (it was supposed to teach one how to be a Liberal Arts student, but I'd heard from a couple of reliable sources that it was a complete waste of time and money), but I was okay with that. I knew I had to take French after foolishly choosing to study Spanish in high school, and I knew I had to get either my Math and/or science requirement out of the way so that it didn't come back to haunt me later...

Seriously. Math and I…no somos amigos.

In the end, I signed up for Biology 120, Elementary French 101, and, of course, the required FP program. This meant I had second hour everyday, and third and fifth hour every other day: not bad for someone who'd been dead scared she'd have to submit to waking up at seven every morning for a first hour…

Wait. Who am I kidding? The highlight of my week wasn't getting up at eight a.m. to walk blearily through the blistering heat to an oily smelling art studio over in CFA (my faculty advisor was the head of the art department—I know, go figure). It was this very moment, as I lay curled up on the couch in the common area, MTV U emanating softly from the newly stationed television in the corner, my brain in somewhat of a contemplative but relaxed haze. It had to have been close to 90 degrees that afternoon with an abundance of humidity and a serious lack of wind, but even so I was still comfortable wrapped snugly in a thin, blue sheet, my eyes closed and head resting on the cushy bean bag pillow my cousin had sent me as a graduation present.

I closed my eyes tighter, barely registering the voices that now circulated the room. Liz Phair was playing on the television. Soft laughter radiated from somewhere behind me. A door opened and closed—probably the one to the suite due to the loudness of the click as it shut. I'd been trying to fall asleep for the past half-hour and was glad that the natural melatonin dancing around inside my head was finally beginning to kick in…

Well, that was until someone thought it'd be funny to scream into my fucking ear.

I screamed twice as loud in response to the abrupt "Ya-hoooooooooo!" that had cruelly torn me from doze-land, tumbling over the side of the couch as I recoiled in fright, my soft sheet falling silently atop me like an inescapable tidal wave.

The laughter that followed was tremendous.

"Oh my gosh! I didn't think she'd freak out that bad!" More laughter. "Allie, are you okay?" More laughter. "I didn't mean to make you fall off the couch!" She paused, gasping for air. "Although, I will admit, it was pretty fucking hilarious."

Like I'd said before: I'd only known Maggie for a total of six or seven hours after I'd foolishly deduced that she was a cool person. I should have known that she'd turn out to be nothing more than an evil sadistic cretin, bent on scaring people into falling off of comfortable couches.

There was other laughter in the room besides Maggie's, so I decided to lay there, on my stomach, and not move until most of it had stopped. Once it had (aside from Maggie's, of course), I huffily threw my sheet off my head and pushed myself off the ground, jumping to my feet with a look of murderous rage.

I clenched my fists and snarled at her still laughing face—which, I'd suddenly noticed, was curiously round, like her body. She reminded me of a killer tomato. "I'll give you five seconds. If I can still see you by the time I finish counting, your ass is mine."

She shook her head but was unable to reply, making it clear that she was a girl that feared close to nothing. I watched numbly as she stalked off towards her first-floor single, muttering something about YouTube and hidden cameras.

Well fuck this shit.

Whirling around, I prepared to snatch my sheet up from the floor when something strange caught my eye: something like two people that were standing about five feet behind the couch, their attention directed on what could have only been me…

Now, I'll say this now: it was hot. And when it was hot, I tried to wear as little as humanly possible; you know, because it was hot. Anyway, at the moment, I was currently donned in a tight semi-low-cut grey tank that barely extended past my navel and short grey Nike shorts that covered my butt and maybe an inch or two of my thighs. Appropriate for lounging about an all girls suite; not appropriate for unexpected guests that, through faulty corner vision, did not appear very feminine in nature…

Feeling somewhat scandalized, I snapped my furious gaze in their direction, my eyes widening as they came in contact with Jaime, who was looking awfully amused, and a familiar dark-haired guy who looked half-shocked, half-embarrassed, and half something I couldn't quite discern.

It wasn't the fact that I'd just fallen off a couch and made a complete idiot of myself. It wasn't the fact that Maggie was still laughing her head off in the other room. It wasn't the fact that I was standing half naked in front of Zachary Anderson.

It was the fact that I was experiencing a serious case of "déjà vu".

"That wasn't very nice, Maggie!" Jamie hollered, grabbing Zach's hand in preparation to lead him upstairs.

"So? It was hilarious," came her partially distracted response.

Jaime turned towards me as I bent down to grab my sheet, her mouth set in a sheepish smile. "Sorry, hun. I tried."

I regarded her sourly as I wrapped my only protection securely around my body, making sure that not an inch of my skin, aside from my head, was showing. Muttering a quick "Hn", I stomped past them, pointedly ignoring the brightness of the blue as I stepped into my room and shut the door.

Breathing deeply, I threw my back against the door and slid into a loose fetal position, my gaze fixed on an unknown point in the space that lay before me.

Isn't it ironic?

Dontchya think.

oOoOoOo

Yeah. So I'm attempting to speed up time a bit here so I can finally get to the meat of this stoopid, piece 'o grease, but it's difficult because there are a lot of characters, a lot happening, and a lot that I apparently feel the need to say (or should I say "ramble on about"). In any case, I hope ya'll enjoyed…and that you read this while sitting in a comfortably air-conditioned room. :)

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nobody's slave: Zach is a man. Of course he's a jerk. :P

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Thanks fur the reviews, pple. They made me happeh. :D