CHAPTER 3

Behind the gun is Addison Thompson. She was a student here—member of the dance and softball teams. She's tall, brunette, and limber. She seems equally as confused to see me—looking me up and down and stays down for a noticeable amount of time, saying something under her breath before looking back up. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were one of those damn monsters," she lowers the gun.

"I...I could have said the same thing," I say, reaching for my towel and wrapping it around my waist. I've seen her around campus quite a bit, never really talked to her at great length, but then again, she was one of the people participating in the Great Laundry Sex Party, so I guess I really didn't need to.

"Well thank fucking god, I've never fired a gun before and really wasn't looking to begin today," she says, looking to the side. "And uh, nice," she says, blushing.

"What are you doing here? I ask, walking out to grab my clothes.

"Uh...could we perhaps wait until you've gotten dressed before we continue?" She asks.

"You're oversensitive about the human body? Who would have guessed?" I ask, throwing my shirt over my head.

She looks angry for the smallest of seconds, but then a flash of recognition passes across her face, "No, it isn't that...I'd actually forgotten about that whole thing in the laundry room," she says, dropping her shoulders.

"I hadn't," I say, smirking, sliding on my boxers.

"I don't have to explain anything to you," she says.

"I didn't ask you to," I put my legs through my jeans and pull them up, buttoning and pulling down my shirt so it is more comfortable.

"Listen, we were all really wasted that night."

"Oh, is this you explaining?" She looks down to me and her lip creases. "Oh, no, do continue, I'm sure this leads somewhere good," lifting up my leg to throw on my socks.

"You know, giving attitude to a girl with a gun is never a good idea," she says, cocking her head.

"It is when the girl openly admits to never having shot a gun before and not wanting to. I mean, I think I'm good," I say.

"Oh, come off your high horse. Don't act like you've never done anything stupid while drunk," she says, placing one hand on her hip.

"Nope."

"Wait...what?"

"Wasn't into it." The lie came out easily. I wasn't really sure the reasoning behind it. Maybe to catch her off her game? Maybe to see if she'd call me out on it? Either way, I'm enjoying myself. "I came here to get out of crummy situations, not lodge myself into them," I pick my towel off of the ground.

"And that's why you're here now?"

"Right now was a momentary lapse in judgment that turned out in my favor. I could have as easily been mauled by those monsters outside or not even made it to the grounds at all." I begin walking around the corner and look back as I speak, she follows. "The question I want to ask is why you're here."

"I heard it is really tough out there, so I never really left. I mean, not fully. I had to go to get this gun, but for the most part I've been holed up in the campuses' scanner locked buildings. Those monsters out there don't have ID cards so it works for me. You being here now means you had your ID on you when you left, why'd you think of taking it? If I had every intention of booking it I would've grabbed some food or something," she asks.

Summer sucks without a roof over your head.

I open the door, holding it open behind me, "I guess I subconsciously had intentions of coming back at some point whether or not it was a war zone or not. You were right about what it is like out there, the whole state is practically fucked," I say.

"Huh, no sarcastic retort?" She asks.

"It comes and it goes," I say.

"You're much more talkative than I originally pegged you. I like it," she says.

"Also comes and goes," I say with a smirk.

"Figures. You able to get back into your own room?"

"Yeah, it tends to not lock, worked out for me for once," I say.

"What does that mean, for once?"

"Couple of people on this floor would take advantage of that, stuff like that."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says.

"You feign sympathy, you aren't sorry," I say.

"Oh now? So you know how I feel?"

"You said it because it fills a void in a conversation. You've probably never even had to worry about a single thing in your life except for when the next round of shots was being served."

"Where the hell did that come from? And don't say it comes and goes."

"It comes from getting people. Like, really getting them. You don't have to speak to them to get to know them, just seeing how they react to situations tells a much more clear story than what their mouths could ever say."

"So, like stalking people?"

"I don't follow people around, no. Way too many people and way too much effort for my liking. Just seeing how people show themselves off in public. How they wish to be seen. You, you're like the sun," I say.

"Really?" She looks up.

"Constantly exerting everything about yourself so that everybody around you knows you. A call for attention of the highest caliber," I say.

Her look changes, but not to the angry expression I was expecting. I was expecting a fight back, an argument to get my blood boiling, maybe even an excuse to steal that gun away for my own use, but what comes surprises me.

She starts to cry, she backs up against the wall behind her and slides down against it and puts her head in her lap, hugging her legs around her. God damn it, you know, this is why I don't do people things. You try once to do something and it always ends with someone crying. That's my weakness, I can't stand by when someone's absolutely losing it. As much as I'd like to be done with this situation I know it'd eat me up inside.

I walk over to her and slide up next to her, "Look, I'm...sorry for what I said."

She shakes her head slowly, "No...no, you were right. I tried so hard."

"Excuse me?"

"I wasn't...I wasn't ever like this before college. Not the party girl, not the in your face kind. I wanted to change, to be something new, you know?" She says in-between sobs. "I didn't have any friends, believe it or not, I was the biggest loser. Glasses, pimples everywhere, and even the most ridiculous braces."

"And then you met a genie and now here you are?" I ask.

"No, I begged my parents to do anything to help me not be so unwanted."

"What does that entail?"

She shakes her head, "They took out a loan to do this really expensive surgery to permanently fix my vision, and after that, the school bill, the money for the braces, everything became an all or nothing investment for my family hinged on my happiness...because I asked them to."

"I'm going to guess you didn't grow up with a lot of money?"

"No, and so when I got here...I promised myself I'd be different. I'd make the most out of what they did for me, so I didn't make them go into debt for nothing. So, I was absorbed into the college lifestyle."

"Well, good news. Your parents aren't drowning in debt now. Nobody to collect!"

She stares up at me with red rings around her eyes.

"Too soon?"

"I had to bury my parents. There is never a time where that is funny," she says.

I can think of a few situations.

"Well, you have to take what you can from a situation." She is silent.

"Like...you're still alive. You made it out and they'd be proud of that."

"That wasn't totally assholish," she says.

"Well thank you, I try."

She lets out a deep breath and looks to me, "Mind if I ask a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Are you alone...also?"

"Since I was fifteen,"

"I'm sorry," she says, looking down.

"It's like I said, finding positives. I didn't have to lose them to this nonsense," I say, waving my hand in front of me.

"You're horribly macabre, you know that, right?"

"I've been told as much," I say.

"Well, do you think you would consider joining me in my room?"

I look over to her.

"I mean, not in that way, unless you want to, but really I meant like, pooling our resources. Out there is kind of fucked, and we're both at this on our own. It might just make this a little less shitty..."

I stare at her, considering her proposal. It makes enough sense. "Sure," I say.

I hate flies. This is the time when they would start popping up.

"Really?"

"Yeah, why not?" I say, standing to my feet. "It seems like a grand time. If you want to go head up I'll grab some stuff from my room and follow you up," I say.

She stands up behind me, "Okay, you know which room is mine, right? 403?"

"I didn't, but I guess I do now," I push open the bathroom door. She walks behind me and takes the door as I walk out. She smiles and turns to the elevator, pressing the button. I turn around and walk down towards my room. I open my door and walk inside, letting the door close slowly behind me.

You feign sympathy, you aren't sorry.

Where did that come from, indeed? Maybe I was pushing my own flaw onto her, projecting, I think it's called. But maybe it's just something that she said that triggered it.

Before I came here I really didn't do any of this stuff, I swear.

Maybe it's the certainty of the promise, the look for approval. It's not unlike that of my father, "I'll be home by five, I swear!"

I swear. I don't buy it for a second. Nice sob story she has, but it seemed a little too neat. A little too convenient in this time where convenience is dangerous. I'm not in a time where I can take things at face value anymore—that kind of thing can get you killed. That girl sees a lonely kid and so she thinks since she has no other options she might as well sway his mind to give her a good time, that and some free supplies. I slip into my pair of sneakers.

So why, then, am I entertaining the thought and going up there? Well, just because I can see through her words like a window doesn't mean I couldn't use what she's offering. I did say I was slightly aroused back during the great laundry orgy. She does have a really nice chest.

I grab up my backpack and unzip it fully. I grab the box of Cheez-Its beside me and stuff it on top of the small black box that I already have inside. It fits just as well beside it instead, and then I move to my closet. I find some more boxes of food, mostly unopened. I grab what I can and fit it into my backpack. Drinks I'm not too particularly needing at the moment, but I grab a few just in case. I choose bottles of water over the soda, I guess I want to attempt to keep hydrated easier. Finally, I open up my roommate's desk drawer and grab out the box of condoms inside..

He won't be needing them.