John Palmer was sitting in Room 806 of Lanner Hall with Jenna Michaelson and Nicole Wilson. It was just weeks away from the end of spring semester, and all three were reminiscing about freshman year.
John, Jenna and Nicole had been classmates at Excelsior Academy, a prep school north of the city. John had a huge crush on both girls going back years, but he never let either girl know: their social circles didn't exactly overlap. John was with the supernerds, while Jenna and Nicole were two of the most popular girls in the entire school. John also figured that if he ever tried to ask either one of them out, they'd turn him down. He was surprised they even let him into their dorm room; he couldn't imagine that happening a year ago.
As John looked at Jenna and Nicole, he marveled at their beauty. Jenna had long, golden-blonde hair, hazel eyes, a smattering of freckles and a lightly tanned complexion; her cheeks were adorable and full, and John imagined kissing them. Nicole was an even more striking beauty: long dark-brown hair, green eyes, alabaster-pale skin and an upturned, regal nose.
John was a skinny, soft-spoken black kid with curly hair and chocolate eyes; his hands were filled with energy. He was nicknamed "Michael" by some of the kids at Excelsior because of his resemblance to a teenage Michael Jackson; John hated the nickname until he heard through the grapevine that some of the white girls liked him because of his resemblance to the singer. John never found out if that rumor was true; he was way too nervous, way too scared of rejection, way too cautious about what would happen.
Jenna and Nicole couldn't get over the vast differences between senior year at Excelsior and freshman year at Sutton College. John told the girls he was also struck by those differences-though he didn't want to say that he thought the girls here weren't as hot as the girls at Excelsior...especially the two girls right next to him.
John looked over at Room 806. The walls were covered in liquor ads pulled from magazines; Jenna and Nicole were still 19, two years away from the legal drinking age, but they both joked that they were "looking forward to it!" John looked at their clothes scattered over the floor, including their underwear; he imagined himself sniffing their panties. Then he saw a familiar blue book.
"Is that the yearbook?"
"For Excelsior? Sure!" Jenna replied.
John walked over to retrieve it. He had destroyed his own yearbook; he couldn't bear to see the faces of all the cute white girls he could never work up the courage to approach.
"Let me see it," Nicole said, and both girls placed the book on Jenna's bed.
"Boy, I missed that school, don't you?" Jenna asked.
"Kinda."
"Betcha really missed the girls, too," Nicole responded, prompting all three to laugh. "Which girls did you like?"
Oh God, John thought, don't ask me that question.
"Well, uh..."
"Come on, Johnny, out with it," Jenna replied.
"Well..."
"Come on!" said Nicole.
"Oh, wow..." John sighed. "Well, let me see..."
Jenna and Nicole giggled. Why are they doing that, John thought.
John scanned the photos. "I liked...I liked Madison, uh...McKayla..."
"Yeah, all the Ms," Nicole replied.
"Uh...Michelle...Allison..."
"Wow, you liked Allison?" Jenna replied, looking at the photo of the gorgeous redhead.
"Yeah...let's see...Zoe, Taryn, Cynthia, Trish, Melinda, Caity, Sophia..."
"Go on," said Jenna, "I'm impressed by your list!"
"Uh, Annie, Tracy, Hannah...uh..."
John paused. He couldn't go on.