A Reputation Ch. 06 - Locked Out

Fair warning to readers new to this series: I don't bother with much in the way of recaps usually, and this story is no exception. You can certainly enjoy it on its own, but it will make a lot more sense (I think), if you were to start with Chapter 1. Regardless, as always, do not hold your breath for realism in my work. I aim to be plausibly ridiculous.

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A REPUTATION 5: LOCKED OUT

Post-threesome ice cream with my two, um, co-conspirators was fun, but a little weird. Having a casual, get-to-know-you chat over ice cream with two near strangers whose anatomy I now knew in extreme detail was slightly surreal. Jenna was a History major whose main academic goal outside her major was to never take another Math course in her life. Katie studied Journalism, but was becoming disenchanted with the field, and was tossing around a shift in majors to Television Production.

In short I had vanishingly little in common with the two of them, other than a mutual commitment to do this all again sometime soon...

It was odd, being a human merit badge.

I was not complaining.

*

Once I had extricated myself from the ice cream shop and my lovely new rumor fuel, I sauntered back toward my dorm. I still had homework, but I beginning to suspect a nap was in my future first. The sun felt good on my face as I ambled back, cutting across an open field that was likely going to be a new dorm, if the fund-raising campaign ever got organized. I got distracted by my internal review of the last few delirious hours and almost got run over when I drifted unaware through an Ultimate Frisbee game. A few angry shouts sent me into a quick sprint to clear the area.

Whew, that little sprint tired me out. Yeah, even after a triple scoop of ice cream, my energy levels were low. I needed that nap to digest and refuel. I hoped Mitch would be elsewhere, not waiting to pester me with supernaturally quick intelligence about my latest episode for the rumor mill.

He was blessedly absent from the room and I collapsed face down on my bed. The curtains the school provides are pathetic at blocking out light during the middle of the day, but I was asleep in moments anyway.

I awoke almost two hours later, clear-headed and energetically refreshed, but with cricks in my neck and back that I had to spend ten minutes stretching to work out.

Still no Mitch, which was a blessing but curious. It was almost dinner time, and my friend seldom missed a meal. I waited around for a bit, not feeling like texting to see where he was, and did some homework while I waited. Almost half an hour after we usually went to eat, there was still no Mitch. I shrugged and went down on my own.

I winced a little in anticipation of the reaction when I showed myself in the dining hall, having just a few hours ago done the Walk of Fame (sure as hell not Shame!) with two girls, heading out of the dorm. I was pleasantly surprised to find that while I got a lot of side-eye, most people in the dorm seemed content to let me have some space.

There were still giggles.

One table of dudes were trying to hide a general expression of what looked like awe. That was not injurious to my self-image...

After I finished eating, I really needed to get some more work done, so I headed out to the third-floor catwalk atop the dorm and did some reading. I did not really classify this as Studying On A Saturday Night, as the sun was still up, and most fun had yet to commence. It was deserted up there, and while the setting did put it into my mind to go see what Cassie was planning that evening, I decided against that.

After all, how much sex can one guy manage in a single day?

But I was tempted...

Anyway, I did manage to completely catch up in Industrial Design, and make a dent in my Circuits backlog. Since my Sunday plans included a Russian study session with Elaine, I had a good chance of actually being caught up in everything by the start of Monday classes.

With that happy thought, and the fading light, I grabbed my books and headed back down the stairs briskly toward my room to throw on a fresh shirt, brush my hair, and head out for the evening, looking for fun.

I was just about to card my way into my dorm room when I realized I was staring at Captain America, pointing at me in that Uncle Sam "I Want You" pose from his picture, which was on our door.

The signal was on our door.

The signal was on our door, and I was on the outside of it.

The question had not been, what had Mitch been up to, but who had Mitch been up to!

Right, fucking on, Mitch! And at only 7:30 in the evening! He had moved fast.

Only 7:30 in the evening. Looks like I was locked out with no prep, and an armful of textbooks, for the rest of the evening. It better be at least most of the evening. I was going to be very disappointed if my man was not good for a nice, long effort.

And if they made noise and found a crowd waiting for them in the hall when Mitch finally took down Captain America, all of them thinking it was me in there... Bwahahaha.

Meanwhile, however, I had an armload of criminally expensive textbooks to find something to do with. They weren't going to be stolen or anything, but I couldn't afford to lose them or have them damaged. As in, literally could not afford that. My bank account was in parlous condition as it was. I barely had enough money for my Coke habit--My Coca-Cola habit.

The kitchen was closed now, and had been for more than an hour, but the dining area was never locked. It would be deserted and virtually no-one went in there this time of night, so I decided to just dump my books in a back corner in there and get them in the morning.

Surprisingly, the motion-sensitive lights were already on in there when I entered. At a table against one wall, a small group of my dorm-mates from the first floor were sitting and laughing. An open and a still sealed twelve-pack of beer sat on the floor. There were red solo cups in front of each, with another in the middle of the table. Quarters lay scattered about.

"Hey," I waved, pausing for but a moment. Then I moved to drop off my books as I had planned.

"Will, what are you up to?" asked Stu Edwards, from his seat at the table.

"I'm just stashing my books in here until later," I said, setting them down in the corner.

"Huh?" asked Tonya, one of the three girls at the table.

I looked up sheepishly. "Mitch is using the room..."

All five of them, three girls and two guys, just looked at me for a solid ten seconds, before Stu burst into laughter, followed by the rest of them. "You are on the outside of the door tonight, huh?" he laughed.

If there is one thing I have learned about myself through all this, it is that I can own an embarrassing situation. I shrugged. "What can I say? Mitch is a machine."

I looked at their faces. Honestly a hang-out for an evening was exactly what I needed. "But while The Machine works, I'm at loose ends. Would you guys mind if I joined the game?"

"Sure," both Stu and one of the girls, I remembered her name was Tonya, said simultaneously. The other guy, Freddie Robinson, and one of the other girls, Yolanda, seemed less happy, but said nothing. I took what I could get.

"So we are playing Quarters?" I asked as I sat.

"Yeah, and you are behind," Freddie said, challengingly. He grabbed a fresh can of beer, cracked it and shoved it toward me. "Catch up," he added, challengingly.

I amiably picked up the can and lifted it to drink.

One gulp in and the others were chanting, "Chug!" I obliged. They had been playing for a while. If I wanted to join, I did have an obligation.

Note that they were not chanting, 'Drink!' Every college apparently has its own house rules for Quarters. I learned the game as having only a few serious requirements. Each player, in turn, tried to bounce the Quarter into the center cup. If they succeeded, they indicated another player who had to consume a slug of beer. The successful player got another turn to bounce the quarter in, and could keep going as long as they kept hitting the cup. When they missed, the turn rotated. Any player caught pointing their finger was also required to consume. And any player who used the word Drink, in any of its noun, verb, adjectival, gerundic, participle, or whatnot forms, had to consume triple.

I slammed the empty beer down on the table, and tried and failed to belch theatrically. There were good-natured cheers from all the other players, except Freddie.

It may shock you to hear that my recent Reputation was not making me a favorite of all people, especially many guys. Or... I guess... it may not shock you.

Apparently, Freddie was not among my fans. I had missed that fact before this point, but you live and learn.

I grabbed a chair and slid to a seat in the nearest gap, putting me next to Stu, and opposite Freddie, with Tonya to my left, Danielle Smith beyond her, and Yolanda on the other side of Stu.

Danielle reached over and grabbed a quarter lying on the table, handing it to me. "Stu just missed. Your turn."

"Hey, he just sat down!" Freddie objected. I would have objected too.

"He just slammed a whole beer without batting an eyelash," Tonya shot back. "He's earned his place in the rotation."

"It was a pretty impressive chug," Danielle added.

"Yeah, who knew Will had hidden talents," Tonya giggled. Yolanda giggled too.

I rolled my eyes. I had never had any illusions that my Reputation was not known to everyone at the table, but I wanted to act for an evening as if it wasn't the elephant in the room. I grabbed the quarter, lined it up carefully, and missed by six inches.

Shit. It had been a while. Apparently, I sucked at Quarters again, like I had early my freshman year.

The rest of the group was not much better. The first time around, Danielle got one hit, shooting her elbow out toward Yolanda, indicating that she had to consume, and Freddie got one in, immediately saying, "Suck it, Will." Other than that, this was not shaping up to be an epic night of consumption. Conversation was flowing again quickly after my arrival, and I found myself enjoying this accidental encounter immensely. It was good to just be another guy for the first time in a while.

Even the innuendo was pretty tame, for the most part, though Tonya made more effort than the others to feature me in any double-entendres.

After her third miss in a row, followed by a loud taunt by Stu, Yolanda looked at him and almost yelled, "I am going to get you so drunk by the..." Whether she cut herself off, or the rest of us gleefully yelling that she had said The Word did it, Yolanda's americano-colored face blanched. "Shit," she grumbled. We all counted gleefully as she poured and consumed three first-seam measures from her Solo cup.

"Got you," Tonya said gleefully. Apparently, Yolanda had been getting off lightly to this point. But Tonya punctuated her glee with a fist to the table, followed by a triumphant gesture...

Yolanda just smiled back and replied, "I believe you just pointed at me."

Things proceeded, and I started to get a feel for the bounciness of the table we were using. I sank a quarter. Looking around, I decided that since Freddie did not seem to like me, it must be because of thirst, so I invited him to consume. He did so with ill grace. I could not hit a second shot, and it was Tonya's turn. She sank her first bounce and immediately shot her elbow out at Freddie as well.

"Oh come on," he grumbled, but smiled and took another hearty swallow.

Danielle went next, and she too hit the cup. Freddie again. He didn't smile this time. She hit a second time, and since she couldn't choose someone twice in a row, she made Stu consume. He did so, loudly saying that it was about time, and he was thirsty.

Freddie missed right off, to much razzing.

Yolanda picked up a quarter, and looked at Stu. "Stu says he's thirsty, girls," she purred, batting her eyelashes at him. "What say we help him out?" With that little innuendo, she stared at him instead of the cup as she bounced her quarter.

Yolanda had not hit a shot all night, so going no-look was not going to make a difference.

And of course, she bounced the coin in so perfectly, the cup barely rattled. Everybody freaked, especially Yolanda. She was babbling with glee. Freddie cut her off with an impatient, "Who's your target then, Y?"

She giggled again, then leaned onto the table, cupping her chin in a hand and looked at Stu, batting her eyes again. Then she shot her elbow out to indicate Freddie had to drink.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Freddie shouted. He slammed back an over-sized pour, gathered himself, and stood up. "That's it. I've got to meet up with Davis later. I'm going to go find him now before you assholes make me too drunk to manage it."

"Oh wait, Freddie. We're sorry," Danielle said weakly as he not quite stormed out of the room. But neither she, nor anyone else moved any more assertively to dissuade him from leaving. When he was gone, his fellow first floor dwellers just looked at each other and shrugged. I was not really clued into the whole first floor social scene, it was somewhat separate from the rest of the house for whatever reason, but apparently Freddie was not its most popular resident... There was no awkward or regretful pause at his departure. Even Danielle seemed to have just been being polite.

The game progressed, and Stu and I gradually got the hang of the bounce. We then did what guys do, and started choosing the girls exclusively as our victims. When one of them hit, they always chose one of us, but we guys were hitting a lot more. We all were consuming our share though.

I hit, and chose Tonya. Then I hit, and chose Danielle. Then I hit a third time in a row, looked at Yolanda, then chose Tonya again with an evil grin.

"Oh come on! I just did!" she protested, looking just bit woozy. I was about to relent, when she said, "How about a kiss instead? Please?" She tried to look pleading at me, but her mouth broke out into a big grin, displaying her gleaming teeth, especially the oddly tilted front one that didn't stand in formation with the rest of her perfectly aligned chompers.

"What?" I asked, bemused.

"I really don't want to drink again so soon," she said soberly. Or, in an attempt at soberly.

I laughed. "I'd take you up on it, but I don't know if I could unilaterally change the rules."

"Oh for Chrissakes, Will. Just let her kiss you so we can move on and she doesn't throw up," Stu scoffed. No one else said anything.

I shrugged.

Tonya pushed up out of her seat, leaned over, then stopped. She looked at me, and blushed. She looked down at her cup on the table. Then she planted her lips on mine softly and gave me a gentle, chaste, and quite delightful, though short kiss. Then she shrieked in embarrassment and sat back down.

Given what my life had become recently, I found the whole moment to be remarkably enchanting.

Then I missed my next shot.

Tonya missed too, as did Danielle and Yolanda. Stu hit and chose Yolanda.

She reached for the cup, but paused as she stifled a burp. She looked at Stu. "Same deal?" She asked, quite shyly.

Stu looked stunned, actually. He hesitated, and I thought he might actually chicken out.

"Okay, new full-time rule for the evening," I interjected swiftly. "Anyone who is selected to consume may offer a kiss in place of doing so. If the person who just hit the cup agrees, they can avoid consuming."

"If the person agrees?" Stu asked, momentarily distracted from Yolanda.

"I put that in so the next time I choose you, you won't try to offer to kiss me," I scoffed.

We all laughed, but then Danielle sternly coughed and said, "Get on with it!"

Yolanda smiled, turned, and leaned over to kiss Stu. It looked like they both meant to make it a quick peck on the lips, but could not quite manage to stop it at that... When they did break it off, they both looked away from each other.

Stu hit again and instantly chose me. I looked at him quellingly, and he just smiled, "I just wanted to make we were on the same page."

I wanted to flip him off, but most people count that as pointing, so I just sipped my punishment.

When my turn came, I hit my first bounce and pumped my fist. "Inebriation time, Danielle," I crowed.

She just looked at me, clasped her hands and mockingly begged. "New rule? You aren't going to make me actually drink, are you?"

I smiled evilly. "I'll gladly take the kiss for getting the quarter in the cup, but I do believe you just said The Word."

"Shit!" wailed Danielle. "Four kisses then?" she asked hopefully.

"No way," Stu interjected. "A kiss might be okay for somebody you pointed at, but The Word is a major infraction. No kiss for that!" His laying down of the law was met with general approval. This was a drinking game, after all.

Yolanda leaned over and poured a triple pour of Budweiser into Danielle's cup.

Danielle looked at it glumly. Then she looked around, a sudden glint in her eye. "How about this instead?" she asked, and hiked up her shirt, letting her braless tits bounce into view.

That brought a fairly profound silence to the room. It continued as she worked her shirt back down into place.

Have I described Danielle Smith at all? No? She is strawberry blonde, with freckles and a button nose. She is average height, and carries about three whole extra pounds around her waist that barely matters visually with the way her hips flare so nicely. Oh. And she has Baby Bear tits, as in: They are, like Baby Bear's porridge temperature, chair size, and bed softness, Just Right.

I had been vaguely aware for a while that Danielle had probably not been wearing a bra, just as I was very aware that Yolanda was certainly not. Yolanda's dangling tits swept out under her knit Polo shirt like ski jumps in a shape only unencumbered tits of a certain size and flexibility make. Danielle's were of similar size, but much firmer. When she pulled her loose concert teeshirt back down, hiding those lovely pink nipples away, they now make considerable tents on the front of the fabric, one almost comically making Taylor Swift's silk-screened eye bug out.

"Another new rule: You may choose to flash the group as forfeit for saying The Word," Stu intoned solemnly.

"Danielle!" Yolanda exclaimed exasperatedly, but smacking the back of Stu's head for his contribution to what just happened.

"Seriously?" Tonya asked her, equally exasperatedly, but she hit me instead--just on general principles, I guess.

"What did I do?" I asked, bewildered.

"You looked."

I stared at her, open mouthed. Then I closed my mouth and shrugged. "Fair cop. But you did too," I grumbled.

I leaned forward to get my quarter to take my next turn. I held it in my finger tips, and just as I pretended to start to bounce it, I froze. Then I looked at Danielle, manfully managing to stare at her face and not at her now sadly re-concealed boobs. "I'm still waiting for my kiss... or for you to consume," I said slyly.

"Busted!" Tonya chortled.

I expected her to take the beer, just to spite me, but instead I got an even better kiss than from Tonya.

This game was looking up.

As the turns went on around, the quarter came to Yolanda. This time, she screwed up her face in concentration and hit the cup again!

"Woo, Yolanda! You are suddenly the Quarters Queen!" hooted Tonya.

Yolanda just grinned and shot her elbow out at Stu again.

He threw up his hands in mock horror. "Again?" He laughed. Then he looked at her, "So, I expect you want a kiss..."

Yolanda obviously very much did, but she turned her head haughtily away and said, "Whatever, it is the victims choice. You can kiss or you can drink."