It is a dark and stormy night on the campus of an east coast college. My floormate and I are huddled under inadequate eaves at the top of an iron fire escape bolted to the clapboard of the converted three-storey Victorian that serves as the campus community center. I am using the tail of my t-shirt to wipe the rain off a large window that we have already tried, and failed, to open. We push our faces up to the glass.
“Can you see him?”
”All I can see into is the Commons—they have to walk through to get to the over 21 area though, right?”
”Is that him?”
”Where?”
”There, in the corner.”
”There are like ten people in a group, how would we know it’s him.”
”I thought I saw his jacket.”
”I love that jacket.”
”You love how he looks in that jacket.”
”It’s not him.”
”I’m freezing.”
”Let’s stay just a little bit longer—I just want to know if he’s here.”
”Why do you care since you broke up?”
”If we had ID we could just go in…”
”Seriously, though, why did you break up again?”
”We didn’t want to.”
”Is thi…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Survival by Book to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.