Arthur’s ego trip

As you’re walking back from class through the hall lounge, you’re knocked out of your thoughts by the sight of Arthur kissing up to Emma. The guy’s wearing a polo with his collar stuck up, but the shirt’s a wrinkled mess and he doesn’t have the looks to pull off the style. Emma, on the other hand, looks pretty damn good in that plain white dress. Those curves are hard to hide.

“Oh come on, I can drink so much and not even get a bit drunk. I bet you don’t have anything strong enough to make me tipsy,” Arthur brags.

“This guy says he’s a hardcore partier,” Emma says, giving Arthur a skeptical point as she sees you slowing down. “What do you think?”

“I am a partier!” Arthur protests before you can get a word in.

“I haven’t seen you at any of the parties around,” you say. “So that’s not a great sign for your partying prowess.”

“I just get into the really exclusive ones, the ones you’re not invited to,” he says smugly. “Like, the Zeta mini-meet last week.”

“Point taken, I don’t know what that is,” you shrug. “I guess you really are the coolest guy around.”

“The Zeta mini-meet is a networking event, dude,” Emma laughs.

Arthur’s face burns bright red and he folds his arms atop one another.

“So what? I still got a girl’s number out of it,” he says.

He begins to pull out his phone, but you shake your head, saying: “You need better evidence than that, man. That girl’s probably just giving you pity advice to snag a summer internship.”

“Oh yeah?” he says. “Then I’ll prove it to you! I’ll… I’ll…” he pauses for a second, trying to think of something. “I’ll beat your ass in beer pong, just you watch! Emma, hit me up with the good stuff!”

“It’s three-thirty in the afternoon,” Emma laughs, gesturing at the sunny afternoon outside. “I’m not principally against day-drinking, but there are at least three good reasons why I’m not giving you a six-pack. First, you’ve been begging me for a free drink all day, and you’ve got to pay if you want one. Second, Tatiana could walk in here any second and bust my ass, and you’re definitely not worth it. Third, I’ll bet you’re actually a lightweight, and I don’t want vomit all over my dress.”

“You don’t know that,” Arthur frowns. “I’m telling you, the opposite is true!”

You and Emma give each other a look.

“Fine! We can play beer pong with water in the cups,” Arthur says. “I’ll challenge Alex. If I win, then I prove that I’m a good partier.”

“And if you lose?” Emma asks.

“Then I’m wrong, and you’re right,” he says.

“Bring it on,” you laugh, more than ready for your first ever game of waterpong.

A few minutes later, you’ve each got 10 solo cups lightly filled with tap water. Arthur bounces the ping pong ball from the table in his hand, giving you (his version of) a cocky grin. From the sidelines, Emma watches with avid interest. There are a couple other random people from the hall around her. Clearly, everyone wants to see Arthur make a fool of himself.

But to your surprise, he turns out to be a pretty decent shot. You take turns tossing the ping pong ball into each other’s cups, the first seven per side disappearing in the blink of an eye. Despite the lack of , you drink from your cup each time Arthur scores. It’s good to stay hydrated after all.

“Come on, you can do better than that,” Arthur laughs as you miss a shot.

His next shot goes wild, streaking off into the distance, and you watch him jog off to get it with a chuckle.

“Not such a great shot yourself,” you say.

You take the ball from him and bounce it across the table. It makes a neat plop into the cup.

“Drink two!” Emma calls out, raising her own canister filled with a suspicious brew.

Arthur grumbles and finishes off two cups, leaving his final one remaining on the table. He rolls the ball back to you, and you swish it into the last cup with ease.

“I was just playing with you until the end,” you laugh, speaking only semi-truthfully. “Was that the best you could do?”

“I was just warming up!” Arthur complains. “Run it back. I’ll stomp you this time around.”

“Come on, Alex, is that how you want to spend your afternoon?” Emma asks.

“Not really, but I’m not seeing anything better,” you say.

{if Emma > 29} “I could show you a better time,” she says, glancing meaningfully in the direction of her room. {else} “You’re so right,” she laughs. {endif}

Arthur -10
Emma +10