128 days before
I threw open the door of my dorm room with reckless abandon. Everything was exactly as I had remembered- bunk bed, desk, and bookshelf. All of which were bolted to the floor to prevent any creative dorm- room arrangements. But, hey- it was home. I hauled in my trunk with no help. I had driven here alone this morning in the Blue Lemon, my faithful but very persnickety old clunker of a car. Hadn't even said goodbye to Jake or my dad, just waltzed out the door. What's the point of goodbye if you know you're going to see the other person again?
I started taking all the books out of my very heavy trunk, piling them on the bookshelf as I went. My Life's Library, I liked to call it. I've gone to summer garage sales and picked out every book that looked interesting to me since I was a little girl. A couple of years ago, my collection threatened to overthrow my bookshelf, so I started stacking the books on the floor. Now, my room was literally a sea of books. Mounds of books were everywhere. Haphazard piles threatened to tip at any second. But the danger is half the fun, right?
A knock sounded at the door right as I balanced the last stack of novels.
"Oh my God come in you short little man because I have the best story" I screamed loudly.
The door opened and in walked the Colonel. Five foot something; the Colonel was small, but built. He oozed confidence and leadership, and those who underestimated him because of his height were quickly set on the right track. His real name wasn't the Colonel, of course, it was Chip, but we called him that because he was the executing force behind all of our pranks. I had all the ideas, though. We had met freshman year, through a combined interest in "booze in mischief", as he liked to call it.
I started telling him about the only remotely interesting point of my summer. The first day of summer, my friend Justin and I were sitting watching TV when all of a sudden, he put his arm around me (non-romantically, of course, I had a boyfriend, for god's sake). I thought it was just a nice little moment between friends, when all of a sudden, he leaned over and he grabbed my boob. Wait, no. He didn't just grab it. He honked it, a long, firm honk. My first reaction was to just sit there in awkward silence thinking "what the hell how do I get out of this assault on my chest". My second reaction was "God, this would be a great story to tell the Colonel and Takumi".
I was right about that, because the Colonel cracked up. He shifted a little, and I realized that we weren't alone. Another boy had entered the room behind him. He was tall- around six feet, I'd guess, and skinny as a rail. He had a shock of light brown hair sticking up, and was somewhat cute. Really cute, actually, in that deer-in-the-headlights sort of way. He had on a plain white t-shirt, and baggy shorts that defied gravity by even managing to stay up on his hips. Right now, he had a partially (well, mostly) stunned look on his face, as he had just been thrust into god-knows-what.
"Who's the guy not laughing at my very funny story?" I asked the Colonel.
"Oh, right. Alaska, this is Pudge. Pudge memorizes last words. Pudge this is Alaska. She got her boob honked over the summer."
I took at step towards Pudge, my hand out like I was going to shake his, and then at the last minute darted in and pulled down his pants, exposing pale chicken legs. "Those are the biggest shorts in the state of Alabama!" I laughed.
He muttered something about liking them that way while pulling them back up. I decided that it was time to go find Takumi and tell him about my summer adventures. I gracefully kicked the two boys out of my door, and then took off across the campus.