Midnight Movie Club Ch. 02

"Writers are like mechanics. Always tinkering. Always finding something to fix. Even when a work is finished and given to the world, it's never done in a writer's mind. So here's your first assignment," Raynor told the gathered freshmen. "I want you to find an old piece that you wrote. Story, poem, monologue, whatever. You're going to make two copies, one to keep as an original and one to mark up and edit. By next Monday you're going to turn both copies in to me, and then we're going to go over them in class. I'll pick two pieces completely at random and we're going to dissect them, both the original piece and one that's been edited. We're going to see where you started as a writer and where you're going as a writer."

The response from the class was nervous glances and uneasy squirming, accompanied by several groans. "Hey," Raynor said, "if you want to be a writer, you have to put yourself out there. No one gets it right the first time, even me. And to show you what I mean, on Wednesday I'm going to hand out a poem I wrote when I was in my teens and worshipped a band called Saves the Day. And on Friday, we're going to rip it to shreds."

A student put their hand into the air. "Professor," he asked, "what if we don't have anything original?"

"Then bring in an idea. An outline. Scribbles on a napkin. I'm not going to grade you on the quality of your piece. Not everyone is Hemingway, or Atwood, or King, or O'Connor. I'm going to grade you based upon the quality of discussion, the quality of input, your growth as a writer, and spelling and punctuation. For the record, the last part is where a lot of people fail. The other three aspects, that's what we're going to talk about for the remainder of today's class. First off, quality of discussion, or as I call it, how not to be a dick while critiquing your fellow writers..."

X X X X X

"Excuse me... Alex?"

"Alexander." The reflexive answer was already spoken as he looked up from his desk. Upon instantly recognizing the young woman who had asked for his name, Alexander gave her his well-practiced smile of greeting. "Karen! Good to see you again!"

"Good to see you too. Mind if I join you?"

"Please." Alexander's flourishing gesture towards the wooden chair drew a chuckle from Karen as she sat down next to him. The young woman's chocolate brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail that fell past the middle of her back. She wore a pale pink blouse and blue designer jeans, along with a pair of high-end boots.

"Thank you," Karen said gratefully as she stacked her books on the writing surface. "I was getting a little overwhelmed." She motioned to the large lecture hall around them, which was filled to near capacity with first-year students taking Introduction to Psychology. The buzz of overlapping conversations added to the stuffy nature of the classroom. "This is way too crowded. I'm not used to this many people in one room. I was starting to get anxious until I saw someone I recognized." Karen reached over and tapped one finger lightly against Alexander's desk. "Thanks for letting me sit with you."

He gave her a friendly shrug. "What are acquaintances for?" Alexander's joke made Karen laugh, the reaction he had been aiming for. "So," he asked as Karen proceeded to ready herself for the lecture, "how's your roommate... Gwen, right? Did she recover from Saturday?"

This time, Karen's laugh was higher in pitch, shorter in length, and incredulous in tone. "Did she recover? I wake up at 9 o'clock with a hangover from, what, three or four cups of that crappy bottom-shelf beer. I get out of bed, and what do I see? Gwen. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Showered. Dressed. Sitting at her desk writing in her journal, not even remotely hungover. She got up at 6 AM, walked into town, got donuts and coffee from Krispy Kreme, and brought them back to the dorm room for when I woke up. She even had a bottle of water waiting for me on my nightstand!" she added, gesturing for emphasis.

"Can we go back to the fact that your pixie of a roommate woke up stone-cold sober?" Alexander was doing his best not to laugh, adopting a look of confusion on his face in its stead. "Because that's the part I can't wrap my mind around."

"I know!" Karen shook her head. "My 90-pound roommate chugs six beers and does a beer bong, you and I have to drag her back to our building, and not only does she wake up without any side effects, but I also watched her down four donuts and two cups of coffee loaded with enough cream and sugar to kill a Christmas elf." She gave Alexander an exasperated smirk. "I'm roommates with a hard-drinking garbage disposal."

"In her defense," he countered, "she's only been a hard drinker one time. To quote my friend, once is an accident, twice is a pattern. Gwen making a clean getaway the other night may have been nothing more than beginner's luck." Alexander leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and shaking his head with faux disappointment. "At least you got coffee and donuts," he teased. "All I got was a slight headache and cottonmouth."

"Tell you what," Karen proposed, "the next time my roommate brings me coffee and donuts, I'll text you..."

"Or you can roll over and nudge me."

An 18-wheeler overloaded with dreadful embarrassment slammed head-on into Alexander the instant that comment left his mouth. He could practically feel the mortification rolling off his body like sulfuric ash. Karen was giving him a perplexed look, confusion in her body language, and Alexander prayed she wouldn't get up and change seats on him. "I... I apologize," he sputtered. "I was joking around with my roommates and our friends last night and... it was a residual comment..."

"Or a time-delayed joke." Karen sighed. "The 'coffee and donuts' comment was the perfect segue into my asking for your phone number, but I guess I'll have to use the awkward joke instead."

"You're asking for my number?"

Karen pulled her smartphone from her backpack. "I'm going to need a study partner for this class." There was a sparkle in her eye as she turned to look at Alexander. "You volunteered with that comment. Unless you want me to go ask someone else?"

"No! I mean, no," Alexander said, quickly rediscovering his cool and getting it to the surface. "I'll happily be your study partner."

She handed her iPhone to him. "Go ahead and punch in your information," Karen told him. "First and last name, please, in case I run into another Alexander on campus."

As he added his information to Karen's contact list, Alexander said, "Again, I'm sorry about my comment. It was meant in jest, however, that doesn't excuse its content, especially towards someone I barely know."

"It's OK. I could tell by how flustered you got that you didn't mean anything by it." Karen took the phone from Alexander's hand once he had finished typing in his name and phone number. "But be careful in the future. Some people might take offense to a joke like that, and being kind of cute with a winning smile isn't going to cut it with them."

There was just enough thread dangling from Karen's compliment for Alexander to take the risk of tugging on it. "Kind of cute, eh?"

Karen answered Alexander's grin with one of her own. "The lecture's starting," she gently chided before turning to face the front of the room where the instructor, an older gentleman with tufts of white hair along the side of his bald head, was writing his name on the chalkboard. After a final sideways glance at the young woman next to him, Alexander popped the pen off his blue ink pen and got ready to take his first set of college class notes.

X X X X X

Adjusting the rucksack on her shoulder, Julie couldn't help but give a low whistle as she looked at the slate-gray sky. "In Colorado," she said to Eleanor, "a sky like that meant a foot of snow at least."

"Same goes for this state," Eleanor answered. "Since this isn't winter though, a sky that color means we're going to get one hell of a derecho. One way to spend a Friday afternoon."

The two young women were among the multitude of students crossing campus as quickly as they could, trying to reach their Friday afternoon classes ahead of the storm. A scant few carried umbrellas, but most were depending on a combination of rapid feet and precious time to get them inside before the sky opened up overhead. The distant rumble of thunder rolled in from the north, preceded by a warm breeze that shook the branches of the nearby trees.

"This will happen sometimes." Eleanor and Julie marched side-by-side, almost in unison as they headed for the student union. "A front in Canada won't get high enough to clear the Rockies," Eleanor told her roommate, "and it'll ride the mountains down. If the lakes decide to chip in, this place ends up with a light show you're not going to soon forget."

"Are there any precautions I need to take?"

Eleanor shook her head. "Last I checked the storm's gonna blow through pretty quick. Crack windows in our room once the storm's over. The air after a good thunderstorm is Mother Nature's Febreeze."

"I'll do that then." They reached the steps leading up to the student union. "See you later," Julie told her roommate, who nodded before double-timing her way to the front door. By the time Julie turned to head towards Samuelson Hall, the warm breeze had upgraded itself to a firm wind. The pleasant swish of tree branches gave way to the sound of a thimble on a washboard.

The oncoming front held the potential to be the biggest storm she had ever seen. She could feel the vibration of the incoming thunder in her feet, and the air took on a fresh, earthy aroma mixed with the biting scent of ozone. The scent was new to the young woman, almost intoxicating. Instead of scurrying about, Julie lowered her pace. She was a rock in the middle of a babbling brook as hurried students broke about her, some brushing past her as they tried to beat the rain. As she walked towards her dorm, Julie was eventually one of only a handful of people left outside. The wind snapped at the trees, threatening to rip their branches off even its leaves were stripped bare...

"Only person I've seen who ain't in a hurry."

Julie turned to see Cole falling in beside her. While she had to make an effort to maintain a slow pace, the young man casually matched her step for step without trying. "Hey stranger," he said with a polite smile. "How come you're taking your time when everyone else clucking like a chicken sans head?"

"How can a chicken cluck without its head?" Julie smirked as Cole's lips pressed together as he pondered Julie's question. "Just walking back from class," she told him, "and soaking in the calm before the storm." Putting her arms out, Julie stepped ahead of Cole and turned to face him, walking backward as she talked. "I know it's just rain, but for some reason, this storm just feels... different to me." Cole responded with a slow nod of agreement. "What about you," she asked. "What brings you out here before the hammer drops?"

"Walking back from the library," he shrugged. "Spent the past hour listening to old musical recordings for History of Jazz."

"Old musical recordings?"

"Yep," he drawled in his Idaho accent. "Ain't a single book on my syllabus for that class. All..."

It was as if God opened a spigot. One second Cole was discussing his coursework. The next he and Julie were drenched by an overwhelming deluge. Warm needles pricked their exposed skin. Julie's pine green t-shirt clung to her body like Saran Wrap as her clothes were instantly saturated. She was almost blinded as the rain poured down in sheets that turned the world a harsh white-gray. As her now-wet hair began to pull on her scalp, Julie could hear Cole cursing just before a white flash briefly preceded an ear-splitting boom that exploded directly over Julie's head. "Come on," she yelled, reaching out to take Cole by the hand, "my dorm's right over there!"

The water had yet to roll off the sidewalk. Several puddles had already formed along the concrete surface, forcing Julie to splash through them, inundating her sandals and ensuring the bottoms of her feet were as soaked as the rest of her. The howling wind drove the rain into Julie's face, slashing at her nose and mouth. She covered her eyes as best she could with her free hand, following the sidewalk to the steps leading up to Samuelson Hall. Warm water lapped at her heel as she stepped into a large puddle at the foot of the steps. Once the pair reached the double doors of Samuelson Hall they squeezed into the small alcove, seeking some semblance of protection from the violent storm. Cole pressed against the door, letting the rain lash against his back as opposed to his exposed head, while Julie fumbled for her wallet. She had to force her hand into her wet jeans. The denim of her front pocket stuck together from the excess moisture. There was a small blessing as her wallet had remained dry, allowing her to remove her student ID and press it against the reader. She yanked the door open as soon as it clicked, quickly ushering Cole inside before following.

Despite the door closing behind them, the pair could hear the howling wind of the storm as it tore against the dorm. The rain splashing against the glass windows sounded like rocks being hurled against Plexiglass. "Huh," Cole sniffed. "Bit of a boomer."

"That's putting it mildly." Julie extended her arms. Water poured from the inside of her shirt onto the carpet just inside the door, with drops falling from her forearms and hands. "I'm drenched. The last time I was this wet I was underwater in my boyfriend's pool."

"Look like you're drip drying." With a barely audible sigh, Cole turned back towards the double doors. "Don't know if I'll get more soaked walking back to my dorm or running back to my dorm..."

"Neither, Cole." Julie stepped forward and pointed out the window. The rain grew in intensity over the few seconds the pair had stood in the lobby. It was now coming down in sheets of steel gray. The light from the lamp posts at the foot of Samuelson Hall's steps was barely visible from just twenty feet away, pinpricks of illumination in a wall of water. "You couldn't see your hand in front of your face, and that wind is going to fling all kinds of debris around. I don't want you to risk you getting hurt even if your dorm's just across the square."

Cole nodded, stray droplets of water collecting on the tip of his chin. "Reckon you're right. Weather app said it was gonna storm, however, this might be the strongest one seen..."

A crash of thunder rattled the double doors, giving Jule a full-body startle while making Cole tilt his head more so than usual. The loud boom was accompanied by the momentary dimming of the lobby's fluorescent lighting. "Definitely the loudest one heard in my lifetime."

"Apps aren't perfect. Come on, let's head up to my room and get out of these wet clothes." Even as they headed for the elevator, Julie shook her head at her choice of words. "Take my statement literally," she told Cole. "I put hooks on the wall so Eleanor and I can run a clothesline if the dryer doesn't finish the job. We can lay some towels on the floor and hang our clothes up to let them dry."

"Why not just toss 'em in the dryer?" As soon as Cole's question left his lips, another peal of thunder heralded the flickering of the lobby's lights.

"Because if the power goes out, we can still dry out. And based on that logic, let's take the stairs. I don't want to risk being trapped in the elevator while soaked down to the damn bone."

The stairwell lights dimmed briefly on the second floor, but the pair managed to reach the third floor without incident. Water still fell from Julie and Cole in thick droplets as they made their way to Julie's room. Once the pair stepped inside and Cole hit the lights Julie had tossed her rucksack onto her bed and before peeling her t-shirt from her body. The soaked garment slipped from her hand and dropped onto the carpet with a squelch. "Look at this," she said to Cole who had just closed the door behind them. "The rain got into the cups of my bra." She pointed to her once light brown bra which was now the color of fresh cocoa.

"Yeah." Cole pulled his smartphone from the pocket of his wet jeans and made sure it was still functioning before placing it on Eleanor's nightstand. "My boxers aren't exactly springtime fresh either."

"Well, no time to be modest then," Julie said. "Strip. It'll be easier to hang our clothes up if they're not weighing us down." Cole signaled his agreement by pulling his black t-shirt over his head, revealing his slender frame. Whereas Alexander could afford to lose some weight, in Julie's mind Cole would be better served to add some muscle. Still, the more clothing Cole shed, the more Julie found herself appreciating his body as she got her first direct look at it. She stepped out of her sandals and unbuttoned her jeans as Cole, having taken off his jeans, pulled his drenched socks from his feet. Soon, both of them were down to their underwear, Julie in her tan bra and black panties with a blue waistband and Cole in plain black boxers.

The pair looked at each other in silence, the only sound the banshee's wail of the storm just outside the windows. Julie could see Cole's eyes giving her body a Mark One Eyeball. The unexpected flash of warmth that followed, she couldn't decide if it was from being wet or being appreciated. Possibly both.

"We going Full Monty here?" Cole eventually asked.

Julie nodded. "This was never meant to be a water bra," she said as she reached behind her back, "and you said your boxers were soaked. You can still get sick from being wet even if it isn't cold. Besides, it's not like we haven't seen each other naked before." Unhooking her bra's clasp, Julie shrugged her shoulders to allow it to fall down her arms. "This time it's just in an open, purely platonic manner." Her comment was offered casually even as Julie exposed her breasts to Cole.

As expected, Cole's gaze dropped to her chest for a brief moment before making eye contact with her once again. "Warning you now, certain parts of me might respond in a non-platonic manner." As Cole slid his boxers down his legs, he added, "but that's him. Rest of me's down with OPP."

"Down with what?"

"Classical reference," Cole said, recalling Lynn's comment from their first class together. "Hip hop song from the '90s. Down with Open Purely Platonic." He straightened up, standing naked in front of Julie with the same casual nature that seemed to dominate everything he did. Much as Cole had with Julie's breasts, she couldn't help but take a look at his penis. It was comparable to her ex-boyfriend Mark's, just as thick and perhaps a hint longer once it was fully erect. At the moment it rested against him in a semi-hard state.

"This may be platonic, but I imagine it will be a bit awkward despite our best efforts." Julie's panties were the driest article of clothing in her now discarded ensemble, however, they still clung to her body. She pushed them down her, shimmying her hips so they dropped to the floor in one fluid motion. Before bending over to pick up her wet clothing, Julie pointed towards the left-hand closet by the door. "Grab a bunch of towels," she told Cole. "We'll lay them out before stringing the clothesline."

Julie snuck a look at Cole's butt as he walked to the closet. Seeing it from behind for the first time, it was bonier than she had expected. "Being honest with you," Cole said as he grabbed a stack of towels from Julie's closet, "we might have to wring our clothes out before hanging them up. Otherwise, they'll just go from 'drowned' to 'submerged' in terms of water retention."

As Cole handed the towels to Julie she once again motioned to the closet. "There's a large plastic tub on Eleanor's side. We can wring our clothes in it. That way using the clothesline is a valid option instead of a futile effort." Cole did as requested, coming back from Eleanor's closet with a blue Rubbermaid tub. Julie took the offered tub and set it down on a towel she had placed next to Cole's pile of wet clothing. As she did, the overhead light flickered in time with a crashing rumble of thunder.