The student union building was completely
packed. On any other day it would have been a great place to meet with friends,
get lunch, talk to an adviser, work on a Greek life fund raiser, or any one of
a hundred other social things that you might find yourself interested in doing throughout
a semester of school. Today all of those things and more was happening with
every possible student that could fit in the building.
Porter flipped Clay
off without looking as he dug into his newly procured burrito.
The Nu Tau Delta sorority was running a
fund raiser for the 1 up foundation, they were selling 1 cUP cakes and their
table was easily the most popular place in the union. Tanya, Faith, and Lacey
were manning the booth and being as nice and polite to their customers as they
could as they took handfuls of cash.
Clay was sitting at the far edge of the
food court area. From where he was sitting he could see the insanity of the
fund raising table. He shook his head and returned his attention to his
studies. His table was covered with several books all of which he was using to
prep notes for a class. Porter swiped an unused chair and sat at the opposite
side of Clay’s tiny overfilled table, His Rho Sigma Gamma shirt is black with
camo colored letters.
“Dude! Last night was crazy awesome! Where
were you?” Porter asked after taking a drink from his soda cup.
“I was working.” Clay replied without
looking up from his notes.
Porter smiled and made a donut with his
right pointer finger and thumb and moved it over his left pointer finger. “Like
workin’ a girl?”
Clay looked up from his notes and put down
his pencil. “No, working my job, over at Supply and Demand.” He clarified.
Watching as Porter glanced at the dude sitting at the table next to Clay’s. He
was in the middle of an intense phone call, completely ignoring his lunch as he
yelled into his phone.
“Dude are you even listening to me?” Clay asked.
Porter brought his attention back to his
friend. “Of course I’m listening to you, and I don’t like what I am hearing. A
job, really? Clay you are a Thug Studies major.” Porter takes the guys soda
without a glitch.
“And I steal enough shit to make grades,
so don’t worry about it.” Clay watched as Porter pulled a flask out of his
pocket and poured a large amount into the soda. Clay dropped back into his book
at Porter took a swig of his concoction.
Porter scanned the crowd in the union for
a moment until he remembered why he had sat down in the first place. “Oh hey!
You should come by the house tonight. We’re gonna order some pizza’s and play
I’d steal it. The pledge with the lowest cash value of cars claimed has to wash
every toilet in the house with a tooth brush.”
Clay realized he wasn’t going to get any
more studying done with Porter at the table and closed his books. “As much fun
as drinking and watching British car shows sounds, I gotta finish this for my
class tomorrow.”
Porter took another drink and rolled his
eyes. “Dude! We never see you any more, what’s with all the responsibility?” He
picked up one of Clay’s books and looked it over. “History of the second
dimension: the complexity of simplicity." What the hell is this crap?”
Clay swipes the book and the cup from
Porter. He puts the book in his bag and takes a drink from the cup. “It’s the
class I’m taking. I’m a senior, I’m set to graduate at the end of this year. I
wish I could, but I can’t stay in college forever.”
Porter stole his cup back. “Speak for
yourself, I’ma graduate the day I die.”
Clay packed his other books away one by
one. “Oh sure, the way you drink we’ll be at the same graduation ceremony.”
Porter looked out around the union again.
“Oh sure! Two funerals but only one dead guy.”
Clay glared at his friend. “What’s that
supposed to mean?” He asked.
Porter held his hands out to highlight the
union. “It means that this is the life Clay. We get four years, maybe five
years, if we’re lucky to live it up. Then society demands that we die from the
neck up and complacently sit behind a desk, fuck that.”
Clay grabs the soda back and takes another
drink. “Ok then, so how come the only other option is staying here and living
from the waist down?”
Porter raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”
Clay zipped his bag. “There’s more in this
life for me than sex, drugs, and alcohol.”
Porter counted off the list on his fingers
and then nodded. “Dude if you wanted to watch sports instead of Car commercials
you coulda just said so. Clay’s shoulders slumped in frustration. Porter took
his cup from Clay. “Seriously though, stop by the house tonight. Everyone would
be glad to see you.”
Clay stands up and slings his bag over his
shoulders. “I’ll try.” He offered heading off toward his Class. Porter noticed
the guy at the next table was still having his conversation and had yet to
touch his forgotten lunch. He waiting until the guy had his back partially
turned and swiped it easily. Clay appeared over his should and took the drink.
