Chapter Three
"And that's how I got here," Zac said, sweeping his arms and motioning towards the walls.
Jillan nodded thoughtfully. "I can't believe you walked all the way down here from the Holiday Inn in this cold. That's like two or three miles, I think." She'd walked it several times, when her car had been in the shop. In nice weather it was a pleasant walk. In winter it was hell. "But..." She paused.
Zac raised his eyebrow.
"I still don't understand why you were looking for a laundromat," she said, sliding down off the washing machine as the dryer buzzed.
Zac chuckled. "Oh, I guess it does seem kind of strange."
Jillian hopped up and down to wake up her legs, and walked over to the machine. Opening the round door, she stuck her hand into the pile of hot clothes to see if they were dry. A zipper on one of her pairs of slacks burned her fingers, and she quickly yanked her hand out. "Well, my clothes are done," she announced, "and I really would like to hear about it." The next words to come out of her mouth surprised her. "So why don't you come with me? I have to take these back to the dorm, and then we could go get something to eat." He'll respectfully decline, he has to get back, thanks anyway, Girl he just met in the laundromat, Jillian thought, mentally kicking herself for even suggesting it. She stuck her burned fingers in her mouth and looked at Zac apprehensively.
As if on cue, Zac's stomach rumbled loudly. His face reddened. "My stomach and I think it's a great idea," he said sheepishly. God, I must seem like a dork.
What am I doing? Jillian thought in a slight panic. Someone has taken over my body and invited a total stranger to my dorm room! Jillian's brain frantically tried to talk her out of it but she again went with her gut and ignored it.
Zac chivalrously took the basket of clothing without being asked and loaded it into the back seat of Jillian's blue Toyota. Soon they had pulled into the parking lot across from her dorm.
"I don't know a lot about college," Zac commented as they got out of the car, "but don't dorms usually have laundry rooms? Why do you lug your clothes way over to the laundromat if you could just use the dorm one?"
She gave an exasperated sigh as she pulled the laundry out of the back seat. "See that building?" She gestured with a nod of her head to a large brick building next to her dorm. "That's South Yeater. Guy's dorm. Some of the more immature residents think it's really funny to come over here and raid the dryers for underwear." She gave him a sideways glance. "You know, honestly, when you said you didn't have any laundry, I thought you might be one of those guys." She blushed a little and waited for his reaction.
Zac snorted in a futile attempt not to burst out laughing. I probably could do that. Boy, do I have the wrong impression of college.
Seeing that Zac wasn't offended by her admission, Jillian sighed again. "So you have to sit down in the laundry room the entire time if you want to keep yours. Then if a guy comes in, he figures you're stuck there anyway so he'll try to hit on you. It's incredibly annoying. Plus it's down in the basement, and it's kind of musty-smelling. So I just use the laundromat. No one bothers you. It is more expensive, though..." Her voice trailed off.
"Hmm..." said Zac thoughtfully as he took the laundry basket from her. "That's a good reason, I guess." He snickered.
I bet he could be one of those guys if he wanted. Jillian smiled to herself.
They started across the street. A car came barreling up the hill, honking, and they ran the rest of the way across the intersection. "People drive so fast around here. I swear, someone is gonna get killed one of these days," Jillian said with a disgusted look.
"My brother Taylor would fit in great here," Zac snickered. In the corner of his mind he wondered what his brothers were doing, and if they had even given him a second thought since he left the hotel.
Jillian pulled open one of the double front doors of the dorm. A blast of overly warm air hit Zac and made him shiver. He hadn't felt the cold until then. The lobby smelled like fruity shampoo and hair spray and about 3 different perfumes all mixed together, and strangely, just a hint of unwashed socks. Several girls were sprawled on the lobby furniture, working on homework, and Zac could hear someone playing an out-of-tune piano somewhere close by.
"I live on the top floor, and Yeater's old and doesn't have an elevator, so we gotta take the stairs," Jillian said apologetically. She turned a corner into the stairwell and started up.
Zac hauled the basket up the creaky wooden stairs, following Jillian, and tried to get a good look around at the same time. A building full of women! Women who may or may not be missing underwear! I love college so far. Maybe I should think about going.
Suddenly he realized Jillian was talking, and snapped back to the real world. "Back during World War Two they housed some GI's here in this dorm. Sometimes at homecoming the veterans come back and look around, knock on your door, say they used to sleep here, want to look around, it's kind of weird."
They had come to the top of the staircase and were walking down a long hall. Zac heard a lot of music and giggling coming from behind a few of the closed doors. Some of the doors were open, and he caught glimpses of the occupants as he and Jillian walked by. She waved and called to a few people.
"Yeah. Weird."
"Are you even listening to me?" she laughed. "Or are you too overwhelmed by all the femaleness?"
Zac blushed. "A bit." He was a little ashamed at himself. Here he was, nineteen years old, a mature man of the world, and he was acting like he was some junior high school kid, stealing a peek into the girls' locker room. Well, if he had gone to junior high school, he probably would have, anyway.
Jillian rolled her eyes and tried to look annoyed. "Men." She stopped in front of a door. Room 336. "Here we are, I don't know if my roommate's home or not." She unlocked the door and Zac followed her into the room, nervous and interested at the same time.
The roommate was in fact there. Jillian introduced her as Laurie. It was almost two o'clock in the afternoon, but the girl was still wearing her pajamas. Zac tried not to stare. He put the basket down on the worn wooden floor and shook the hand Laurie was offering.
"Pleased to meet you," she said. No, purred. This girl was purring at him. He recognized the type. He saw it often - every time they did a meet-and-greet, at least one girl acted like this. He put on his best friendly grin and said, "Likewise."
Jillian and Laurie started chattering away, like he wasn't even there, comparing plans for the afternoon. Zac walked over to the big double windows and looked out at part of the campus. Right next to the dorm was what looked like a large white blanket. It was, Jillian had told him as they drove by, the front lawn of the university president's house. The only footprints marring the snow belonged to squirrels and other small animals.
The sun had come out, and the glare from the wide snowfield was hurting Zac's eyes, so he turned his attention to the other side of the street. There was a building there, too. Jillian had said it was the student union, and the snow around it was dirty and slushy from students walking to and from classes. It was a Saturday, and not many people were out, but Zac had the feeling that those sidewalks got really crowded during the week.
Turning away from the windows, he looked around the room. The walls were painted a pale hospital green, and they were made of cinderblocks. Jillian and Laurie had taped posters to the walls in an apparent effort to conceal their ugliness. It was sort of working. The beds had been bunked. Zac got a little nostalgic for the bunk bed of his younger days, when Isaac and/or Taylor would step on his stomach or his head as they got out of bed in the mornings. To his left were three dark wooden doors. He supposed that two were closets, and the other one was probably the bathroom.
In between the last two doors was an old dresser with a mirror hanging on the wall behind it. The top of the dresser was littered with makeup and hair-care products. Reminds me of the girls' room, he thought. A surprising wave of sadness swept over him suddenly. He hadn't seen his sisters or brother, or his parents, for over a month and he missed them.
"Zac?" A hand touched his arm, and he jumped. "Are you ready to go?" Jillian was looking at him with concern.
Zac shook off the sad feelings and gave her a wide grin. "I'm starving. Let's go."
"Well, we're off, then. If my mom calls, tell her I'm at the library." Jillian gave Laurie a conspiratorial wink and grabbed Zac's arm. Going off with some guy I just met an hour ago. My mom would never understand this in a million years. Heck, I don't know if I do. A giggle escaped her throat.
"Library, right. Have fun," Laurie said, and suddenly winked at Zac.
"Nice to meet you!" Zac's answered, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
When they were back in the lobby, Zac asked, "Is she always like that?"
"Laurie?" Jillian laughed. "She's harmless. She's a big flirt, but she's also the sweetest, most generous girl I've ever met."
"You guys are friends from high school, then?"
"Nope. Just a random roommate assignment. I knew we were gonna hit it off when we showed up on move-in day with matching comforters." She laughed softly, and Zac could see that she was really fond of Laurie.
"So. Where are we going to eat?" Zac's stomach rumbled again, changing the subject.
"I thought we'd go down to Heroes. If you're in Warrensburg, it's a must-eat. And the inside's really neat. Hey, do you like buffalo wings? They have really hot ones."
"Sure!" Zac replied enthusiastically. Buffalo wings were high on his list of things he could eat all day long without getting tired of them.
"Good." Somehow Jillian had known he would like buffalo wings. He just seemed like that kind of guy. Zac darted around her and opened one of the glass doors of the lobby. She walked out into the bright, cold afternoon. Oh, my gosh, he just opened the door for me. I didn't think guys did that anymore.
They started across the street to the parking lot. Zac jogged across the intersection, his hair flying in the freezing wind that had picked up again. Jillian started after him, fishing her car keys out of her pocket. She stumbled on a piece of loose curb and dropped her keys into a dirty puddle of slush.
"Oh, crap," she exclaimed. "Hold up, Zac, I gotta get my keys." Jillian knelt down and, grimacing, stuck her hand into the puddle. Pulling out the wet keys, she glanced up to see him starting back over, and out of the corner of her eye she saw the car.
