"Shit," Katie muttered, squinting her eyes in the direction of the
alarm clock. The White Stripes was belting out from the speakers, and for
once the sweet sound was like a harsh cacophony. The red digital letters
read 5:15, and she paused for a moment to wonder why the hell she had set
her clock to such an early hour. She instantly recalled: a new job at
Starbucks. Seemed like an all right idea at the time...She groaned, stuffing
a pillow over her face, just savoring the last few seconds of peace before
she had to get up. With a sigh, she flipped over out of the sheets,
stumbling a little bit as she reached forward to get her balance, and began
her trek across the room.
Despite Katie's status as a lowly, starving college student, her apartment was pretty nice and tastefully decorated. Surrounding her bed were wall-to-wall rock posters – The Beatles, AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, The Who, Eric Clapton...next to the window overlooking the street was her boom box, record player, and collection of CDs and records stacked in a messy pile. Movie posters adorned the living room/kitchenette – Pulp Fiction, The Godfather, Almost Famous, The Big Sleep, and This Is Spinal Tap. A small refrigerator occupied the northern half of the apartment, including a combination sink-counter-cupboard against the wall. A large, brassy, out-of-place cappuccino machine sat on top (a present from her brother's girlfriend). She moved slowly towards the bathroom, still wiping the sleep out of her eyes as the White Stripes continued to jam. After tripping over Kel's stack of textbooks ("Dammit, what the hell, Kel..."), she made it into the bathroom and began getting ready.
Kel was waiting for her in the kitchen when she came out approximately a half-hour later. The girl was perusing the newspaper between sips of orange juice. Katie breezed past her and reached for the coffee.
"Morning, loser," Kel joked affectionately, her eyes never leaving the paper. Katie groaned.
"It's not even light enough to be considered morning," she grumbled, even though she was already wide awake. How Kel managed to wake up every day at 4:30 and take a three mile jog was beyond her. "By the way, you might want to think about moving that humongous stack of books that's right in front of my bed. I trip over them every morning."
"Sorry," Kel said. She skipped over, still dressed in her morning-ware of shorts and a tank top, and carried her books over to her bed. "So Starbucks, huh?" she said as she began rummaging through the refrigerator.
"Yeah," Katie said, raising her eyebrows jokingly. She placed her left hand on the counter for balance, then began putting on her shoes.
"Ooh, you look nice," Kel said teasingly as she surveyed Katie's outfit. Light blue button-down shirt which set off Katie's natural tan and dark complexion, black skirt that stopped right above her knee, and a pair of heeled Oxfords. The barest hint of makeup was apparent on her face, and she looked bright-eyed and awake.
"Thanks, I guess," Katie shrugged, smiling a little. She swirled her coffee cup around in her hand, blowing on it. "I'm kind of nervous. The last time I had a job was in middle of my senior year."
"Yeah?" Kel asked. She had cream cheese and bagels in her hand, and stuck the two halves of bread in the toaster. "What were you?"
"I worked at a bookstore. For like two months."
"What happened? You get fired?" Kel asked.
"No, I quit. So anyways, my mom's been taking care of me all this time. I can't let her do that, you know?" she said earnestly. Kel nodded.
"I remember when she wouldn't let you go to our Freshman Orientation Party that first week in freshman year," she said. "Your mom's real protective, huh," Kel said.
"You have no idea," Katie gave her a look, and Kel laughed. "As my roomie, I find it very strange that we've gone through freshman, and now sophomore year and you still haven't met her. We have to get on that. But before then, I have a job I'm late for," Katie said. She downed the remainder of her cappuccino, grabbed her purse and keys, and opened the door.
"Good luck girl!" Kel yelled after her.
"Thanks!" was all that was heard before the slam.
And a million miles down south it was just another Monday for Freddy Jones, because he was on a hangover wearing what he wore last night - his tie askew, shades down, and the last five buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. The weather was hot and fine, a little stuffy, but that was OK because the sun was out and he wasn't dead. He pulled into the university's parking lot, and saw the campus was teeming with energy already at the early hour. Parking the red Chevelle, which was grungy the way he liked it, he trotted up through the grass. His cigarette rested between his index and middle finger. The alcohol was still tinged on his tongue, despite his morning brushing and breath mints. He could taste it in his throat and it burned. As he crossed the lawn towards the entrance to the main building, he sensed a sudden shift towards him. His vision was clouded by long hair, tank tops, and pretty, girlish smiles.
"Hey Freddy," the cute blonde on the left said. Ringlets, flip- flops, and silver bracelet.
"Hey," he replied, tugging at his tie. He winked at her.
"Hey there," vivacious redhead applying lip gloss, 9 o'clock.
"What's up?" he said casually, flashing her a smile.
"Freddy, how are you?" Group of girls on the stairs.
"Not bad," he said smoothly.
"Freddy Jones, where have you been all my life?" a sultry girl with dark brown, mermaid hair flowing down around her shoulders. She slid her hand up his arm and pouted sensually into his face. It was Nadia Murphy, notoriously known as one of the most attractive and dangerously curvy girls on campus. Once upon a time he flirted with her, dated her, and vaguely remembered sleeping with her. He smirked out of the corner of his mouth.
"Hanging on your every word," he said as he took her hand.
"Call me," she mouthed as he breezed past her, unfazed. He gave her a wink – his signature Freddy Jones charm and carelessness in one – and sauntered by.
He flung open the double doors with a lazy assurance and amused smirk.
The deep-mahogany wood paneling of Florida's Terrence University shone cleanly in the morning shafts of light the fell in from outside. Taylor Hall was full of students getting their morning caffeine doses before class. Freddy skipped up the three flights of stairs to his first class, on the way enjoying the way the sunlight followed him everywhere. It was April in Orlando, hot as hell, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He went inside the huge auditorium that housed his Intro to Biology class, and took his signature second-to-last row seat.
"Jones."
"Keatings," Freddy said, taking off his sunglasses.
"I can see by the slightly-fucked look in your eye that you went to Birch's party last night," Joey Keatings said matter-of-factly, jumping into the chair next to his. He smoothed down his tousled brown hair with his palm, and surveyed Freddy's disheveled state.
"Yeah, and no one told me those Sunday parties really kick ass," Freddy responded idly, twirling a pen between his fingers.
"Score any?"
Freddy liked bluntness, but Joey really had a way of butchering the straightforward.
"I don't know, Keats, use your imagination," Freddy said indifferently. He couldn't keep the edge out of his voice, though. Despite Keatings' lack of tact, he wasn't exactly wrong.
"Damn..." Keatings said under his breath. "How do you do it?"
Freddy smirked a little. Students were filtering in through the pair of double doors and sitting down. One petite brunette walked past with her friends, then took a double take and walked over.
"Hey Freddy", she said happily.
"Hey," he greeted her.
"Birch's party was fun, huh?" she asked. She tilted a little to the side so that her left hip jutted out, and she took a casual stance.
"Yeah, it was great," he conceded agreeably.
"Well, I hope we meet up again sometime. It was nice seeing you. Later," she gave Joey and Freddy a final look, then rejoined her friends a few rows down.
After she was out of earshot, Joey turned to Freddy, "Jones...you have no idea who that girl is, do you?"
Freddy rubbed his fingers under his chin seriously, and then snickered.
"No, I really don't," he said. "Hey man, I don't know what it is, either." He leaned back to stretch.
"Whatever it is, it's magic," Keatings said, giving Freddy a pound with his fist.
Despite Katie's status as a lowly, starving college student, her apartment was pretty nice and tastefully decorated. Surrounding her bed were wall-to-wall rock posters – The Beatles, AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, The Who, Eric Clapton...next to the window overlooking the street was her boom box, record player, and collection of CDs and records stacked in a messy pile. Movie posters adorned the living room/kitchenette – Pulp Fiction, The Godfather, Almost Famous, The Big Sleep, and This Is Spinal Tap. A small refrigerator occupied the northern half of the apartment, including a combination sink-counter-cupboard against the wall. A large, brassy, out-of-place cappuccino machine sat on top (a present from her brother's girlfriend). She moved slowly towards the bathroom, still wiping the sleep out of her eyes as the White Stripes continued to jam. After tripping over Kel's stack of textbooks ("Dammit, what the hell, Kel..."), she made it into the bathroom and began getting ready.
Kel was waiting for her in the kitchen when she came out approximately a half-hour later. The girl was perusing the newspaper between sips of orange juice. Katie breezed past her and reached for the coffee.
"Morning, loser," Kel joked affectionately, her eyes never leaving the paper. Katie groaned.
"It's not even light enough to be considered morning," she grumbled, even though she was already wide awake. How Kel managed to wake up every day at 4:30 and take a three mile jog was beyond her. "By the way, you might want to think about moving that humongous stack of books that's right in front of my bed. I trip over them every morning."
"Sorry," Kel said. She skipped over, still dressed in her morning-ware of shorts and a tank top, and carried her books over to her bed. "So Starbucks, huh?" she said as she began rummaging through the refrigerator.
"Yeah," Katie said, raising her eyebrows jokingly. She placed her left hand on the counter for balance, then began putting on her shoes.
"Ooh, you look nice," Kel said teasingly as she surveyed Katie's outfit. Light blue button-down shirt which set off Katie's natural tan and dark complexion, black skirt that stopped right above her knee, and a pair of heeled Oxfords. The barest hint of makeup was apparent on her face, and she looked bright-eyed and awake.
"Thanks, I guess," Katie shrugged, smiling a little. She swirled her coffee cup around in her hand, blowing on it. "I'm kind of nervous. The last time I had a job was in middle of my senior year."
"Yeah?" Kel asked. She had cream cheese and bagels in her hand, and stuck the two halves of bread in the toaster. "What were you?"
"I worked at a bookstore. For like two months."
"What happened? You get fired?" Kel asked.
"No, I quit. So anyways, my mom's been taking care of me all this time. I can't let her do that, you know?" she said earnestly. Kel nodded.
"I remember when she wouldn't let you go to our Freshman Orientation Party that first week in freshman year," she said. "Your mom's real protective, huh," Kel said.
"You have no idea," Katie gave her a look, and Kel laughed. "As my roomie, I find it very strange that we've gone through freshman, and now sophomore year and you still haven't met her. We have to get on that. But before then, I have a job I'm late for," Katie said. She downed the remainder of her cappuccino, grabbed her purse and keys, and opened the door.
"Good luck girl!" Kel yelled after her.
"Thanks!" was all that was heard before the slam.
And a million miles down south it was just another Monday for Freddy Jones, because he was on a hangover wearing what he wore last night - his tie askew, shades down, and the last five buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. The weather was hot and fine, a little stuffy, but that was OK because the sun was out and he wasn't dead. He pulled into the university's parking lot, and saw the campus was teeming with energy already at the early hour. Parking the red Chevelle, which was grungy the way he liked it, he trotted up through the grass. His cigarette rested between his index and middle finger. The alcohol was still tinged on his tongue, despite his morning brushing and breath mints. He could taste it in his throat and it burned. As he crossed the lawn towards the entrance to the main building, he sensed a sudden shift towards him. His vision was clouded by long hair, tank tops, and pretty, girlish smiles.
"Hey Freddy," the cute blonde on the left said. Ringlets, flip- flops, and silver bracelet.
"Hey," he replied, tugging at his tie. He winked at her.
"Hey there," vivacious redhead applying lip gloss, 9 o'clock.
"What's up?" he said casually, flashing her a smile.
"Freddy, how are you?" Group of girls on the stairs.
"Not bad," he said smoothly.
"Freddy Jones, where have you been all my life?" a sultry girl with dark brown, mermaid hair flowing down around her shoulders. She slid her hand up his arm and pouted sensually into his face. It was Nadia Murphy, notoriously known as one of the most attractive and dangerously curvy girls on campus. Once upon a time he flirted with her, dated her, and vaguely remembered sleeping with her. He smirked out of the corner of his mouth.
"Hanging on your every word," he said as he took her hand.
"Call me," she mouthed as he breezed past her, unfazed. He gave her a wink – his signature Freddy Jones charm and carelessness in one – and sauntered by.
He flung open the double doors with a lazy assurance and amused smirk.
The deep-mahogany wood paneling of Florida's Terrence University shone cleanly in the morning shafts of light the fell in from outside. Taylor Hall was full of students getting their morning caffeine doses before class. Freddy skipped up the three flights of stairs to his first class, on the way enjoying the way the sunlight followed him everywhere. It was April in Orlando, hot as hell, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He went inside the huge auditorium that housed his Intro to Biology class, and took his signature second-to-last row seat.
"Jones."
"Keatings," Freddy said, taking off his sunglasses.
"I can see by the slightly-fucked look in your eye that you went to Birch's party last night," Joey Keatings said matter-of-factly, jumping into the chair next to his. He smoothed down his tousled brown hair with his palm, and surveyed Freddy's disheveled state.
"Yeah, and no one told me those Sunday parties really kick ass," Freddy responded idly, twirling a pen between his fingers.
"Score any?"
Freddy liked bluntness, but Joey really had a way of butchering the straightforward.
"I don't know, Keats, use your imagination," Freddy said indifferently. He couldn't keep the edge out of his voice, though. Despite Keatings' lack of tact, he wasn't exactly wrong.
"Damn..." Keatings said under his breath. "How do you do it?"
Freddy smirked a little. Students were filtering in through the pair of double doors and sitting down. One petite brunette walked past with her friends, then took a double take and walked over.
"Hey Freddy", she said happily.
"Hey," he greeted her.
"Birch's party was fun, huh?" she asked. She tilted a little to the side so that her left hip jutted out, and she took a casual stance.
"Yeah, it was great," he conceded agreeably.
"Well, I hope we meet up again sometime. It was nice seeing you. Later," she gave Joey and Freddy a final look, then rejoined her friends a few rows down.
After she was out of earshot, Joey turned to Freddy, "Jones...you have no idea who that girl is, do you?"
Freddy rubbed his fingers under his chin seriously, and then snickered.
"No, I really don't," he said. "Hey man, I don't know what it is, either." He leaned back to stretch.
"Whatever it is, it's magic," Keatings said, giving Freddy a pound with his fist.