Dedicated to all those who enjoy a little soapy fun...
***
Mark sat at his desk by an open window. The warm summer breeze drifted through as if attempting to lure him away from any intellectual pursuits. A series of books and one empty page of a notebook lay sprawled out before him. He tapped his pen against the blank white page, but the drumming of his writing instrument did little to distract him from his restless thoughts.
Although the new semester had already started, there was technically still a month left of the waning summer. Students everywhere were taking advantage of the late season weather to get in a few last days of sunbathing, swimming at the nearby lakes, as well as lots of backyard drinking. The parties were only just beginning to wind down. However, Mark spent most of his time indoors and buried in books, trying to sort things out for himself academically.
Mark's roommate, Trevon, strolled in and attracted his attention.
"Looking dapper!" Mark exclaimed, thankful for the brief interruption from his studies.
"Right?" replied Trevon.
He spun clockwise on the soles of his feet and fixed his collar, then gave his wrist a flick to show off his watch. Its shiny face briefly splashed a reflection across Mark's eyes. With a smirk, Trevon tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants and struck a quick pose, as if strutting on a red carpet for the paparazzi.
"Gotta look sharp, you know? Looking to start a little somethin' with Shayna..." he added.
"Do it, man. You got this," Mark said with a grin. They fist-bumped.
"You sure you don't wanna come?" Trevon asked, letting his jaunty pose soften suddenly.
"Naw, I'm gonna get some work done. I'll probably get some dinner at the Canteen. Maybe I'll stop by later, I dunno."
Mark wasn't interested in letting on about his true state of mind. As a transfer student, he was still trying to find his way. Freshman year back in Chicago had not gone so well. He couldn't decide which classes to take or which circle of friends to join. Worse, the city itself simply created too many distractions. He finally came to the decision that his indecisiveness was the result of the school not being the right fit, so he went elsewhere.
Halfway through the school year he transferred to Mount Wilson University, a rural liberal arts institution surrounded by the Central Mountains of Vermont, which promised him a uniquely beautiful environment, terrific skiing in the colder months, and a greater ability to focus on big decisions he would soon have to make about the course of his life. Taking the place of Trevon's equally confused ex-roommate, Mark had just enough time to inherit a new circle of friends before summer break, during which he worked as quickly as possible to get some sense of direction with his studies.
"Well, suit yourself," Trevon sighed, before returning a spring to his step. "Wish me luck!" he then exclaimed, his lips starting to curl at the edges.
"We both know you don't need it."
Trevon laughed. "Well, you know how it is... You got no advantage out here in Vermont. Folks like me are still a novelty around these parts!"
Mark laughed as he watched his roommate head out of the room with a swagger he wished he had himself.
As much as Mark suffered from academic indecisiveness, the same was not true about girls. He knew in an instant who he liked, who was right for him, and whether he was right for her. And that girl's name was Brooke.
Trevon had introduced them during just his second day on campus. Ever since then, she'd been winding her way deeper and deeper into his subconscious. Brooke was effortlessly confident, exceptionally intelligent, and commanded attention the moment she entered a room. Mark was in awe of the way she didn't seem the least bit daunted by most things. He wanted to get to know her better, to connect on every level, to be the one person she revealed her deepest thoughts and feelings to.
Unfortunately, Brooke was also taken.
***
As dinner rolled around, Mark wandered down the path through campus that led to the Canteen where students from all over often congregated for dinner. He had somehow worked himself up into a semi-productive state and was anxious to end his study session on a high note.
Mark's tray landed on the counter with a loud slap, then he slid it along the various protein options laid out across the salad bar. After loading his plate up with food, he made his way to the wide-open seating area to scan for anyone he knew. He heard laughter; familiar laughter, which echoed across the room to greet his ears. In an instant, he knew who it belonged to. Brooke was seated nearby at the end of a table, sharing a meal with several of their classmates.
Mark observed her as he approached; bold, confident, and headstrong. As she completed the punchline of an amusing anecdote, Brooke's eyes darted over to catch his arrival. As the laughter died down, so too did her vivaciousness. Mark often enjoyed observing her from afar, because she had recently developed a tendency to slip into a self-conscious, quieter state the moment he arrived. Room was immediately made for him and the mutual friends he shared with Brooke welcomed him to the table.
Brooke was highly spirited, tall, and slim, with a beautiful smile and piercing blue eyes. Her hair was dark underneath, giving way to a thin outer layer that crossed through the full spectrum of blonde, just barely reaching a pure golden state at the surface as it reached the sunlight. Mark loved the fact that she was a little bit intellectual, a little bit free-spirited hippie, and a little bit goofball, all wrapped into one. Strangely, Brooke was inexplicably tied up with John Maguire, a frat guy that acted as arrogantly and entitled as he was undeservedly good-looking. This relationship didn't seem to jive with everything else Mark knew about Brooke, and he couldn't understand it. But Mark was patient and he counted the days until he had his chance with her.
"That's funny!" his classmate Gavin was saying. "I'd like to see him try to do the same thing at one of the Washings!" Mark's female classmates started to laugh.
"Oh! That reminds me--" Brooke interjected. "Is everyone else Washing? Ours is on Wednesday." She briefly glanced in Mark's direction but quickly looked away the moment he noticed.
"I'm going with Melody at James' place," someone chimed in.
"We're both going to Matt's," said some others.
"I'm not going to anyone's this week-- but I'll be at the one on Friday!" added another.
Mark began to eat, listening to his friends excitedly respond to Brooke about their plans for something during the week ahead. It was all lost on Mark. He assumed it must be some school tradition he had missed freshman year. He couldn't help but feel that there was a lingering expectation that he'd offer his own answer to Brooke and she seemed strangely disappointed that he remained silent.
"I don't have one yet, can I join you guys?" Crystal asked.
"Sure! Are you bringing Adam?"
"Yeah. Thanks!"
"Awesome! There are about a dozen of us so far, then," Brooke explained.
Mark began to feel left out, being clueless about the matter, but didn't want to reveal his ignorance in front of the group, so he remained quiet until the conversation turned to other matters and he could join in. The mysterious discussion about the Washing had successfully gone in one ear and out the other, and he soon forgot all about it.
***
Monday morning gave way to afternoon and Mark soon hit a wall. Feeling the lack of energy kick in, he made his way to the campus coffee shop to grab another pick-me-up before his next class. He approached the barista.
