Note: First off, I am soooo sorry for the long wait but I was at camp and there are no computers in the boonies of the boonies......well actually there are, but they don't work so well. So anyway, that's my excuse. Also, if this chapter is bad it's because for the past three weeks I have eaten nothing but tofu, kale, sprouts, and bad tea and I am severely jonesing for some chocolate right now and I think that it may be limiting my brain capacity. That's not much of an excuse but it's all I got. So.....enjoy I guess. And thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter.

Eleven: Mark

Freshman year of College 1988-89

Don't ask me how I got into Brown. It's a kind of miracle really, considering my total lack of interest at the beginning of junior year and subsequent bad grades. If my dad had any kind of political leverage—or if we were multi-millionaires—I'd say he bribed the school just to save face around his stupid friends but these things are obviously out of the question. I guess that I'm going to have to settle on the Fluke theory. Either that or they felt bad for me for some reason. Again I am stumped as to why because I am a white Jewish boy from a nice suburban neighborhood and unless you are another white Jewish boy from a nice suburban neighborhood and therefore know what it's like, you don't feel bad for people like me.

So here I am, stranded in Rhode Island at a school that I don't especially want to go to. This sounds ungrateful because it's a good school and my getting in was a kind of phenomenon but that's the way it is. I don't want to be here because it means I have to decide what I want to do in life and all I really want to do right now is fuck around with my Nikon (that is, if SOMEBODY hadn't thrown it against a big fat WALL) or maybe try a filming something. I've never used a video camera except to film my cousin's bar mitzvah but it was fun.

But I digress; going to college means that I have to grow up, get married, have kids, start busting my ass for a nine to five job I hate, get drunk in the evening, scream at my kids, alienate my wife, and basically turn into my father. This is a fate worse than death in my book.

Right now I'm in the dorm, unpacking my shit and chowing down on some animal crackers. It's a small room with just enough room for two single beds and two desks but they've decided it would be a fantastic idea to cram in three beds and three desks. There's a communal bathroom down the hall next to the washing machines. Someone sticky tacked my name and my room mates names to the door. Or, their interpretation of my name. According to my door I am Mike Cohen. Neither of my room mates has showed up yet, but I don't honestly care. One named is Benjamin Coffin III, which brings to mind some Waspy jerk from New England who plays polo and wears pastels. The other is Thomas Collins. I keep picturing a shortish skinny kid with glasses and messy hair who wears stretched out sweaters and has to safety pin the soles of his shoes to the cloth because he's too lazy to get a new pair. And yes, this is pretty much me. The thing is, it's hard enough to stand BEING me. I don't think I could actually deal LIVING in the same dorm as myself.

There's a knock on the door and a voice says "Hey, are you Mike or Benjamin?"

"Mark," I push my glasses up my nose a little wondering which one this is. He's only about an inch or so taller than me, but this is where any other resemblance is thrown out the window. He holds himself like he's about six-four instead of five-seven. His clothes don't look like they came from the donation box in a church basement and one of the ear pieces of his glasses is not made of a piece of coat hanger. His shoes are in good repair and I'm willing to bet there isn't a melted Jolly Rancher fusing his coat pocket shut. His hair does not make him look like he's just been through electroshock therapy because he has twisted it into neat, chin length dread locks. Oh yes, and he's black.

"Pardon?" he says.

"I'm Mark. They got my name wrong," I say.

"I'm Tom, but everyone calls me Collins," he sets down his bag and looks around the room. "Is the other guy here?"

"Nope." As has been proven many, many times before, I am a fascinating and skilled conversationalist.

"Grim name. Coffin. Geeze."

"Yup."

"Sooooooo......" He plays with the light switch and the overhead bulb flickers on and off on and off like a strobe light.

I stare up at the light and he stops flicking the switch.

"Sorry. Bad habit."

"It's fine." We stand and stare at around the room, taking in the beds, the desks, our bags, looking at anything but each other. Just when the silence is getting unbearable someone bursts into the room, trips over Collins' duffle bag and falls flat on his face. He' Immediately he scrambles up, shakes himself like a dog, dusts off his clothes and then grins at both of us like we're the most fabulous people in the entire world.

"Hey guys, I'm Benny!!" He sounds absolutely ecstatic, as if being Benny is the most fun and exciting thing he has ever done.

Collins looks absolutely bewildered. He runs a hand through his hair and smiles like he's trying to be cool but wondering what the fuck this guy is on. As for me, well Benny reminds me quite keenly of Roger when he's found something exciting. There is the same look in his eyes, a kind of excitement that edges on hysteria. He has the same sort of crackling energy too, like there's electricity coming off him.

"I'm Mark," I say for once feeling at ease. People who are this forward always make me more comfortable. You know that you don't have to entertain them because they'll always find something that's worth their attention without your help.

He plonks down on a bed and grins up at us, "So what're your majors?"

"Philosophy," says Collins.

"Cool. I know nothing about philosophy. What do you do?" he sounds genuinely interested, which is surprising. What's your major is a courtesy question. No one really cares what you're doing, they just ask so they can tell you what THEY'RE doing.

"Well you read and discuss things a lot. But I've already got this theory going about how different the world is now because of technology and stuff. I mean, look how far we've come, how much society has changed since our parents were our age, and a lot of it has to do with this new advanced technology. Thing is some of it's good, like understanding current affairs and being able to learn more about other cultures, but some of it's really bad. People are becoming too dependent on gadgets. It's....well I haven't really figured it out yet but it's a good theory, really. What about you, what are you doing?"

"Business. I want to buy buildings in shitty neighborhoods, fix them up and rent them out at low prices to poor people and artists. And they'll be nice apartments too. Just because you're poor doesn't mean you shouldn't have a right to decent housing. I know I won't make much money, but I really don't care. It's not about money, it's about doing a good thing for society." Even though he's smiling he sounds serious. This plan isn't a joke to him. He already knows what he wants and he's probably known for a long time. I wish I were so clear in what I want.

"What're you doing, Mark?" he asks.

It costs me a lot to say "I don't really have a major yet. Still deciding." Next to these two people who already have things figured out I feel like a big dumb ass.

"Well what are you considering?" asks Benny.

"Umm....nothing?" I feel like such an idiot right now. I don't belong here and I know it, but I could at least pretend to be passionate about something.

"Don't you like to do anything?" Benny presses.

"Sure. But I can't really major in it," I my face feels like a hot August day. I kneel and start unpacking books so they won't see the flush.

"You can major in just about anything, except maybe dust bunny farming," says Benny.

"What is it anyway?" asks Collins gently, like I'm a very small child on the verge of tears, which is what basically what I feel like.

I shrug, dump a load of books on the floor. "Photography,"

"See! You can major in that!" crows Benny. "Go sign up right now. Everyone should do something they love."

I sigh and sit back on my heels. "It's not really that simple. My family will probably disown me if I major in that."

Collins frowns and nods.

"Why? What the hell's wrong with them?" demands Benny. He sounds personally outraged.

I shrug again. "It's not really a real job, is it? I'm not going to make much money taking pictures or making films or anything."

"Do it anyway," says Benny promptly. "Who cares about your family? Do what makes you happy."

Collins shakes his head. "You can't just alienate your family like that. Sometimes they're all you have, y'know?" he sounds like he's speaking from experience.

"I wouldn't mind, actually." I surprise myself by saying it so firmly. "I don't really like them all that much."

"There you go!" cries Benny. He jumps up on the bed and thrusts his fist into the air. "Screw the bastards! Rebel! Fuck the system!!"

He looks like some demented version of the statue of liberty. His whole face is glowing like a flashlight and he's humming with excitement. I mean his body is actually vibrating slightly. Collins and I laugh and laugh.

"So are you an anarchist or something?" asks Collins when he's calmed down. "I am."

"I think I might be. I was a communist in high school, but I just couldn't stop seeing the holes in it." He says earnestly. He sits back down so suddenly that the bed shakes.

"Yeah, there's no way in hell communism would ever work," says Collins seriously.

"Yeah, anarchy is definitely the way to go. It's totally foolproof." I say. Collins glances at me, hearing the sarcasm but Benny just keeps on grinning. They're so different from each other. No, scratch that, WE'RE so different from each other. But for some reason I like both of them. Strangely I think that maybe I could get through at least this year with them as my roommates.

Oookay and that's chapter eleven. I'm not sure I like it, and it's kind of a jump and I just realized that I totally neglected to say what happened after they get home from the little Laura adventure but I'll get to it, I promise! Please don't me mad at me!!! and please review and once again, so sorry for the delay!!