Dishevelled, but not Dateless

You roll out of bed and into some chinos and a chambray shirt, barely finding the time to piss and shave and brush your teeth a couple times before you have to rush off to class. Though you’ve spent a lifetime waking up before 8 am to get ready for school, getting out of bed by 9:45 for Microeconomics at 10 suddenly seems like a herculean feat for your college-self. As you run through the quad, you barely have time to flick through the notifications on your phone, giving a minor fist-pump as you see the latest one.

Soon, you’re in the lecture hall, scrambling to find your seat amidst the packed rows of students.

“You look like shit,” Jack laughs as you slide into the seat next to him.

You give him a look over, trying to find something to hit him back with, but he’s about as put together as he usually is, meaning that there’s hardly anything you can fault him for. Helen, sitting by his side, {if Helen > 80} gives him a cold glare. {else} shrugs helplessly. {endif}

{if Helen > 80} “I like the look,” she says, giving you a once over. “Kind of rugged, kind of tousled, it works for me.” {else} “It’s not that bad,” she says, giving you a once over. “But you do look a bit bedraggled.”{endif}

Mal dashes into the lecture hall just then, her red hair tied up into a loose ponytail that dances around as she rapidly descends the steps, almost falling into the seat next to you.

“Wazzup,” she says. {if Mal > 40} “You just got in too?” {else} “You’re off your game today, Knight.” {endif}

“That obvious?” you grimace, well aware of Jack’s smug smirk.

“Eh, I’m not much better,” Mal says, pointing to herself. She’s almost completely forgone make-up, and the black dress she’s got on looks more rumpled than a stiltskin.

“Poor Alex,” Jack chuckles, leaning back in his seat. “What a sorry state you’re in. I bet you can’t even find a date these days.”

“What’s that?” you ask, pulling out your phone and placing it in front of Jack.

The latest texts sit there, and Jack’s smirk slowly fades away as he reads the messages:

mmm… I like the sound of that :0

Come to the pool tomorrow at 5

I like my men in speedos

And I think you’ll like what I’ll bring ;)

Jack snorts, pretending to be unimpressed.

“Bet you she’s ugly,” he says.

“Amy McIntyre,” Helen says, reading the contact’s name. “I’ve seen her by the outdoor pool lots. Works as a lifeguard, right?” You nod. “She’s got serious curves.”

Jack harrumphs, and is about to say more when Professor Ward calls the class to attention. Econ class whizzes by, as does lunch and chem after. You look down at your notebooks, filled with learning from the day’s classes, and silently thank God that you’ve got no more for the day. You’ve got an hour or two to spare before your next scheduled event, time enough to do something quick, so you decide to...

Amy +10