The Mixer

The brothers and sisters begin to mingle with each other, with the older students taking the lead and catching up with their friends. Following their instincts, most of the freshmen guys begin to approach the younger looking girls, dropping pick-up lines and following routines that only look semi-natural to you. Is there some sort of crash course that they all go through? It’s eerie, like watching a pack of lions descend upon a herd of willing gazelle.

Jack in particular seems to be doing well. He’s got three girls surrounding him, all of whom giggle and blush every time he finishes a sentence. He spares each of them a bit of his attention, but he seems to spend most of his time looking around, as if sizing up the other girls in attendance. He eventually settles on a tall Indian girl who is disinterestedly conversing with one of the frat brothers in attendance.

Her gaze slides right past Jack as she makes eye contact with you. You’re lost in those hazy dark eyes of hers, and you swear you can see the corners of her mouth lilt upwards, and that’s all you need to decide that you’re going to try to win her over. You casually walk towards her, and watch as she expertly disentangles herself from the brother who was talking to her, leaving him lost and confused.

“So, you’re Fiji’s fresh meat?” she asks, twirling a strand of her long black hair around a finger.

Shruti

“You would think so, but no. I just happen to have friends in powerful places,” you say, nodding towards Dylan.

“I see. So you’re the outsider then; I was warned there was one of you about. In that case, maybe you could help me out. What do you think of that boy over there? I know for a fact that he is new to this scene,” she says, clearly talking about Jack.

You pause for a second, wondering how you should respond.