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“Just like… three or four times.” If you didn’t count the two other times on top of that. Kira was already feeling pretty embarrassed by the fake number she gave. She couldn’t imagine how she’d feel if she said the actual amount of times Bradley has canceled on her. “He’s Pre-Med, okay? Aren’t Pre-Med people super busy and barely have lives?” Kira didn’t know what that whole thing meant or just how grueling the process actually was, but the characters on Grey’s Anatomy made it sound really, really hard. “Why would he always apologize and try to organize a time for us to meet again and again if he doesn’t actually want that to happen, like…” She sighed, growing more upset by the situation as she spoke about it. “I’m trying so hard to be understanding but everyone’s telling me I’m being played, and I’m sick of it.”

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It didn’t take Isaiah long to realize that he maybe shouldn’t have sincerely engaged with Kira on this subject. He didn’t know what he was expected to say, but he knew what he wanted to start with. “You just described every other STEM major,” Isaiah pointed out. “He’s not special.” Besides, there was no ‘Pre-Med’ major, it was a track. This guy probably just studied Bio and talked a shit-ton about how he was going to be a doctor like his daddy one day. Point blank, Isaiah continued: “And frankly, a lot of people apologize not because they’re actually sorry but on account of the fact that they have a compulsive need to be liked and/or a fear of pissing someone off.” Isaiah turned the book over in his lap and then flipped it closed. “If he’s prevaricating and not giving a legit excuse, then he’s either conflict-avoidant and too cowardly to just blow you off completely or a self-seeker.” To him, both attributes were shitty things to be and the people who had them were never worth his time. He paused. “Does he give the Pre-Med excuse or are you providing it for him?”

WHERE: Campus quad WHEN: Afternoon OPEN TO ALL

Kira was almost chronically on her phone. Texts, Tinder and TikTok. The three T’s that ruled her life. Her thumbs were tapping away on her screen, shooting out message after message until a response from a friend caused her mouth to drop. “What? No—” She pulled her mouth into a pout, looking not unlike the internet’s beloved frowny feline, Grumpy Cat (RIP). Letting out a huff, she leaned over to the person beside her. “Hey, so — this group chat I’m in is trying to light me on fire so I need an objective third party. Do you think a person having plans come up whenever you guys are about to hang out means they’re not into you? Like, they’re probably just actually busy, right? Like we’ve been taking to over two months, which is a reeeally long time. Like why would someone talk to you for that long if they’re not into you, right?“

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Isaiah had about an hour to kill—and a novel he couldn’t quite get into. A very ragged secondhand copy of Norman Mailer’s The Executioner’s Song lay page-down on his lap while he stretched out on the grass of the quad. His head was turned at an angle as he watched through squinted eyes as a group of very crunchy Vermont-looking students hung up a slackline. He wondered, distantly, if that was something he could get into. And then he wondered, less distantly, if he’d look like a total dickhead doing it. Kira (a new coworker and a palatable type of company) sat nearby, technically with him, and when she spoke up he turned toward her. “Huh?” he started, bringing a hand up to shield a streak of sun that slipped through the tree branches from his eyes. “Uh, I don’t know. How many times have your plans fallen through?”

closed starter @wendysandersons​ (tagging wendy but you can pick whoever) where: a lecture hall when: midday, after class

despite her bitchy and vapid demeanor, sam was typically a good student. sure, she only came to essex to piss off her cousin, but she still got in by her own merit. so when the time comes where she isn’t up to her usual standard, she starts to get a little desperate. desperate enough to stop some random classmate after class and ask for help. “hey!” she said with a bright smile she only uses when she wants something. she’s never spoken to this person before but they seemed decent enough and hopefully have been paying attention. “so i’m totally lost with what’s going on and you seem smart, would you mind maybe helping me out if you have some free time?”

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Isaiah had his backpack twisted around his torso as he walked, multitasking in his haste as he tried to shove his textbook into his bag and get to his meeting as fast as he could. He sort of, kind of registered the hey! when he heard it; it was very close, and the source of it stood in his way, but it took a moment before he realized she had actually spoken to him. He was annoyed at having to stop short and made quick work of finally getting his book safely tucked away. “The semester’s barely begun,” he started, a roundabout and unfortunately curt way of asking how are you already lost? Isaiah vaguely shook his head as he moved to grab the pull of his zipper. “You know the ARC?” He didn’t give her any time to say yes or no and instead moved on to spell it out. “The Academic Resource Center. They’ve got a peer tutoring program over there. That’s probably your best option, or you can swing by Professor Stadler’s office hours. He listed them on the syllabus.” Isaiah swiftly zipped his bag closed. “I don’t have a ton of free time.”

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Joshua watched the other as he spoke, listening carefully. Lifting a hand to scratch lightly at his jaw for a second, hiding the smile that threatened at the corner of his lips. It was a strange alliance he seemed to have literally stumbled upon. Maybe his roommate wasn’t so wrong after all. Just a little bit. “ A man on the inside, ” Josh mused, nodding his head a little like he was considering it. Whether or not it was a fair trade for being a bystander in it all. After a short beat, he revealed his decision, “ Can’t say I’m big enough to turn that down. Appreciate it. ” He said, finally allowing smile to spread on his features. It couldn’t hurt, in fact it could possibly be a pretty big advantage to finding his footing here. Even if this guy was the only person at this party he intended on not avoiding.

He raised brows a little in surprise. It took a certain kind of person to go from drinking from a shower to quoting Thoreau in a matter of moments. Josh wasn’t sure he’d ever met that kind of person before, it certainly captured his attention. “ Let’s walk. ” He repeated the words, abandoning towel and not so much minding the smell that was going to linger on him until he changed now that it seemed he had made a friend. Or at least, an acquaintance that didn’t make him wish the ear infection had taken all his hearing. He was about to move for the door when a hand was thrust to him, along with a full name. “ Could say the same. Definitely didn’t expect to hear Thoreau within a hundred foot radius of this place. ” He joked in reply, reaching out to give the other’s hand a quick firm shake. “ Joshua Maybury. ” He introduced. He’d had to say his full name a lot lately with the whole college thing, but this was possibly the first time he didn’t feel totally out of place about it. Moving past Isaiah and towards the door, he looked back over his shoulder to say, “ Time to meet nature’s magnetism. ” A grin pulling up the corners of his lips.  

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Isaiah let out a short, surprised, and pleased laugh—a rare sound, really—and, despite the height difference between them, lifted his hand to clasp Josh on the shoulder. “Let it direct us aright, Joshua,” he finished with a grin, let go as he tossed the face cloth toward the sink, then followed the other out the door. The bedroom’s contents didn’t hold his attention this time around, and neither did much of anything in the following hallway. He did note, vaguely, that he was pretty sure he or one of the other pledges would be responsible for taking carpet shampoo to the dubious stain left at the top of the stairs. Grim.

Otherwise, the din left the possibility for any real, human conversation null and void, unless one preferred to communicate with grunts and whoop whoops! as many of the partygoers seemed to prefer. At least there was an opportunity to shoot Josh a heavily judgment-laden look when they passed another Brother standing shirtless with the Greek letters of the frat written across his chest in what appeared to be lipstick, trying his best to slur his way through Eminem’s ‘Lose Yourself’ from atop the sofa. These were his peers. He tried not to let it bog him down with too much dismay just yet.

So, the night air was a welcome reprieve. “Finally.” Isaiah let out a long, low whistle as he spun in a slow circle, eyes locked onto the stars above. The weed made him feel a little woozy, and the lights blurred pleasantly above him. “So what’re you gonna tell the roommate about your first frat party?” he asked, stopping the movement once he started to feel a little too dizzy and clicked his tongue. At the bottom of the front steps, two paved paths lay out in front of them and split in different directions. Isaiah snapped his fingers, pointed left on instinct, and then started off in that direction. “That it was filled with a mind-boggling—yet essential, given the nature of the thing—amount of banality?”

💤 - What do they absolutely need to have to fall asleep?

Isaiah is an EXTREMELY light sleeper, thus he sleeps with earplugs and even sometimes an eye mask if there's even a sliver of light coming in from under a door or through the curtains. (He uses his Apple watch as an alarm to wake him up in the morning, which buzzes incessantly against his wrist to wake him up sjkdng.) He is also one of those people who can't fall asleep until they've read a chapter of a book that they're reading for pleasure, or else he feels like he hasn't done anything during his day that feels stress-free and just for fun.

🎲 --> 🧳 - What countries have they been to?

Isaiah traveled to Haifa when he was around 8 years old, since he has some family that lives there and his parents decided to go when his great uncle was on his deathbed. His mom is very staunch in her stance of not traveling back for political reasons. He's also traveled to a handful of European countries over the course of his childhood (France, the Netherlands, Italy, Spain, and Switzerland). His parents have always had a deep-held belief about taking your kids traveling as a means of educating them about the world -- and luckily, they could afford it! And over the summer, before he started college, they went to London.

🌳 - What’s their extended family like?

Isaiah is a straight, cis man who uses he/him pronouns.

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Josh nodded as he listened. Guessed right, or sort of right. He didn’t really know enough about fraternities to know how they connected to one another between schools, if legacies worked the same way they did in ivy league colleges. If they did, well, Josh could only hope this guy didn’t get a bid. “ Right, that’s shit, ” He said, voicing just a bit of empathy for the situation. It was shit to have to do things you don’t want to. Brows raised for a second as question was turned back to him, and a huff of a laugh came out his nose at what he could catch of the follow up question. “ I’d love to say there is one but, ” He paused to shrug, “ Got caught in an easily persuaded moment. Roommate said it would be, quote, stupid to miss out on, ” He said, purposely repeating the exact word and following them with a soft scoff and shake of his head. “ Feels a bit backwards in hindsight. ” 

“ Before, ” He gestured to his shirt, the patch that was now just vaguely damp rather than wet fabric sticking to him, “ I thought maybe I could detach and just decide who I was gonna avoid on campus for the rest of the semester, you know, until my roommate wanted to leave, he’s my ride. But now I’m kinda thinking, fuck it, walk can’t be that far. ”

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“Well, here’s an idea: I’ve got to spend the next month or two among the ranks of the pompous and privileged.” An ironic statement, since Isaiah was probably well and truly both of those things, himself. “If there’s one thing I can do to make up for being an enabling bystander in the midst of all this shit, it’s give you the 411 on which of these try-hards are best to be avoided,” Isaiah suggested, leaning in closer to the mirror as he used the pad of a fingertip to pull down his lower right eyelid to get a look at his red-mottled sclera. Well, it was more of a pink now. He held it there for a beat too long, until his eye began to tear up, then pulled his hand back and blinked rapidly. He liked the idea of walking. Isaiah thought wistfully of Thoreau's Walking, in which the transcendentalist spoke of an idea about walking the right way. Isaiah pulled back from the mirror with a little laugh.

“As Thoreau once said: ‘What is it that makes it so hard sometimes to determine whether we will walk?’” he misquoted. It was whither, not whether. Isaiah had read it damn near half a dozen times from the time he was twelve and that was a line that stuck with him, even if he got it wrong in the inebriated moment. But that was mostly because it stuck with his mother too, who quoted it sometimes before she wrapped herself in a scarf and decided to brave the frigid Montreal temperatures and walk when she was stuck on a problem with work. She never knew where her destination was, but decided instead to go full Thoreauvian and follow her intuition and let that guide her to her conclusions. Isaiah found it admirable, if not a little inefficient at times. “I’ll go ahead and make the decision, man. Let’s walk,” he said definitively. His fellow army of pledges didn’t have to show up for cleanup until 9 o’clock the next morning. Who gave a shit if he left earlier than expected? If anything, that could work in his favor. Before he turned to the bathroom door, he turned to the boy and held out his hand. “Isaiah Koenig. I never thought I’d find an ally in a bathroom, that’s for damn sure.”

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So whoever said that college would be a much more ‘enjoyable’ experience as compared to high-school, was a big fat liar. Dee was about two embarrassing encounters away from dropping out and the classes haven’t even started yet. She could tell based on the others expression that her word-soup of absolute useless garbage did not register until the very end and her whole life goal instantly shifted from wanting to be the youngest recipient of the Nobel prize in astrophysics to wanting to invent the time machine and fix her whole entire personality into someone who was at least remotely socially acceptable. She couldn’t, of course, say any of this because even she had a capacity to how embarrassing she could physically get before shutting the fuck up. – With an awkward smile, she zips the bag shut, double - triple checking it was done properly and shakes her head. “N-no, no I won’t cry for real. I hope, I-I think…I don’t know, I don’t know we will have to wait and see you’re…you’re doing good zinc. Zinc is great zinc – Zinc actually makes up about 75 ppm of Earth’s crust which makes it the 24th most abundant element which is super fun I read about it four days ago I’ve been…really into geology lately. Not, not that zinc isn’t a fun concept in chemistry too, which…which is my true love but – Zinc is the fourth most common metal in use with an annual production of about 13 million tonnes which is actually insane if you think about it…”

She could feel herself calming down. Thinking about zinc of all things really did the trick and she didn’t even have to consume any. She was grateful for the others fast thinking, even if he did nearly meet his end via calculator. – When he points at his neck, she looks down and spots a set of headphones that sent her into a spiral to begin with and she can’t help but hide a scream behind a very, very polite and contained smile. “Mhm – yep, yeah that’s…that’s the headphones alright….” she really did need a smoothie. With spinach and…perhaps also lentils. He was right and she was too exhausted to try and salvage her reputation and pretend to be better than she was so she just shrugged, let go of a sigh and pointed ahead. “Well now that I wasted all my energy panicking for no reason, I should be fine for about an hour so…could I possibly and…you can say no – but, could I bum a ride? Just to like…the nearest Starbucks or something? I’ll get you a coffee or-or a smoothie or, whatever you want honestly…what do you say?”

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“...Right,” Isaiah responded after a semi-lengthy pause. He didn’t exactly know what to make of her — high-strung, flustered, and apparently well-read on chemical elements. It all sounded very Wikipedia-y, which reminded him of his bunkmate Corey Blumenthal at Camp George who regurgitated facts about big cat predators at a frankly breakneck speed, all word-for-word taken from articles and books he had read. The five lionesses in Botswana who started to grow manes and show male-like behaviors were a huge topic of conversation for all of summer 2017, and Corey had used all his computer time hunting down updates instead of emailing his family. Isaiah didn’t question that behavior, because Corey totally had autism and their counselors had given them a talk about like, respect and stuff. It made Isaiah wonder if this girl had it too, and he told himself to be like, chiller for a second about her word vomit. Maybe she was just really, really into essential nutrients. Special interests came in all shapes and sizes. “Cool,” he eventually added on, hoping that wasn’t super dismissive. “Yeah, I guess chemistry is sick.” He internally scoffed at himself. “ZnO NPs are used in a ton of stuff, after all, like — uh, soap, toothpaste, ointments, yadda yadda. Zinc’s well-known to keep the structural integrity of insulin, too.” His dad had told him that, once; he had worked two decades in biotech and all. “Veeery fun.”

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Josh looked over his shoulder with confusion as he heard the shower turn on, not turning completely in case he should look away again quickly. But then the other assured he wasn’t going to start undressing, and he let out a soft chuckle as he dipped his head under the water. Turning away to focus on his shirt again, pressing towel against it and wondering if his efforts were somewhat futile. He chuckled softly again at the names listed off. “ Wow, ” He let out, a comedically false tone to his voice. “ A real who’s who of jackass-names, huh. ” He continued. Though still, why did this guy know those names, if he was also willing to help Josh out and lightly make fun of them too. And the we’ve got a real douchebag-name assortment. We. Though Josh’s thoughts must have been obvious, or perhaps the other wanted to be totally clear about his position, as he then explained it. Josh turned, leaning back slightly against the sink as rubbed the towel over his hands lazily as he listened. Newly acquainted. Don’t know anyone too well. There was an implied yet to Josh’s ears. But then the next set of facts dropped. Rushing the frat, but he didn’t want to. He shook his head for a slight moment before he announced, “ Oh, in that case, you’ve totally got it. My pity, for your soon to start journey to rock bottom. ” He said, friendly sarcasm to his tone as he held a hand over his heart for a moment. He wasn’t quite sure the other deserved his pity. Fraternities were a voluntary thing, he wondered what the other had to make him feel such obligation. “ So whose got the gun to your head to rush? ” He asked, though he voiced his best guess not a moment later, “ Legacy thing or something? ”

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Isaiah stuck his head back under the stream again, mouth open, to catch a drink. And it was like once he started drinking, he finally realized how thirsty he really was. Tonight was probably the first night in years he’d gone without his Klean Kanteen insulated water bottle on hand — and that was only because at some point between smoking up with one of his new roommates and now, he left it in the frat’s kitchen. He’d have to dunk the thing in bleach when he got it back... if he got it back. Once sated, he pulled back, splashed his face one more time, and then turned off the shower. Rubbing the back of his hand across his nose, he walked the short couple steps toward the bathroom mirror. “Yeah, something like that,” Isaiah confirmed, both unwilling and too tired to really get into the real nitty-gritty of the situation. But he could give a sanitized overview. “My dad was a Pi Krappa Alpha when he was at Columbia a couple centuries ago. I made a deal to at least see the Rush process through, not counting on getting a bid — yada yada.” Isaiah reached for the hand towel left haphazardly on the small counter space. With visible dubiousness, he brought it up close to his nose to smell. Not too bad. It mostly smelled like a faint whiff of Irish Spring. “So what’s your excuse?” he prompted, holding out the towel with two hands then pressing it to his face. Muffled by the fabric, he continued: “Why’d you choose to waste your night with all the future Brett Kavanaughs and Ben Shapiros this campus has to offer?”

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Diana has never been hungover in her life. Hell, she was never actually drunk before. But college was supposed to be full of firsts. And this was it. First time hungover, first time remembering only half of shit she did the night before. First time leaving half of her backpack open dropping God knows what and for how long. Her head was spinning. So much so that she’d decided she was still dehydrated and would absolutely never, ever, ever drink again. It hurt to think. It hurt to listen to sounds. If she could  kill every singing bird this morning, she would have gladly made that choice. To hell with the birds and the global warming. For some reason all she could think about was how right that guy Josh was, and how uncool partying was, and how she should have staid in and watched a good debate on that new theory that completely contradicted everything that the theory of relativity stood for. Something she was sure would have made Einstein turn in his grave, but she couldn’t tell because she didn’t stay in and spend her time productively, no, she was at a frat party making a fool of herself to a hot boy at the counter and then puking her guts out for the rest of the night until she eventually passed out and woke up safe in her bed. She was ever so grateful for Izzy and that sweet bubbly girl she met in the toilet and took roughly 200 selfies with while simultaneously forgetting every single detail about her existence. She hoped the bubbly girl was doing well. 

Soon, she was snapped out of the convoluted stream of regretful thoughts by a voice in the back. At first she hoped it was not calling out to her but her day was going so swell it had to have been her. Turning on her heels, biting back tears because of course, she would also be crying now in front of a stranger, of fucking course. She somehow managed to pull out a very unconvincing polite smile. As she walked towards the cute boy and his bicycle suddenly regretting leaving the house lookin’ exactly how she’d felt she agreed. “Of…of course I did.” Dee picks up the papers, and then reaches for the calculator whose sheer size could have actually derailed the other if he’d not spotted it laying down. “I’m sorry…thanks…thank you…” in utter defeat she pulls her backpack to one side, and throws in the shit she’d dropped and realises her headphones were gone and a wave of frustration pushes her to a seriously embarrassing whining sound. “I lost my headphones.” she admits to the other, not sure why. He had absolutely zero need for that information. But in true Dee fashion, she doesn’t stop there. “I worked three months to afford those. I didn’t want to space out the payment because they charged ridiculous interest. And, and I knew I should have put them on before I left but I got t-the worlds biggest hungover and I wasn’t gonna, ya know, play music or-or listen to anything even remotely intelligent and yes, yes I just now realise I could have definitely used the amazing noise cancellation feature but I didn’t. I didn’t even think of it and now, now they’re gone. Because I didn’t zip my backpack. Amazing, I – amazing.” she smiles again, nodding slightly. “Please…say absolutely anything so I don’t start crying hysterically.” 

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Isaiah crouched to help her pick up her stuff—maybe a split second later than he should’ve—and grabbed a few sheets of paper. He shuffled them around in his hands, making sure they were lined up accordingly, then handed them back over to her. “It’s all good. Apology’s not necessary. Just, y’know. Make sure that thing’s closed all the way, is all,” he said, watching her as she shoved her things away into her bag. If he had hit that monstrous calculator, Isaiah was pretty sure he would’ve ended up snapping his damn neck; he tried not to hold it against her. He inhaled to say something like well, catch you later or have a good day or I gotta get going, but before he could get any of the words out, she continued. And what followed was... a lot. Between the look on her face, the tone of her voice, and the sheer number of words she said, Isaiah rapidly started to feel out of his depth. He stood there, struck frozen and silent, until finally she all but begged him to say something. It snapped him out of his zombie-like state.

The promise of a morning coffee and the desire to see how her hair had looked after tossing around her new (much smaller than she was used to) bed was the siren song that finally lured Reese out of bed. She rubbed at her eyes, walking into a wall on her way to the common area in her pink satin robe that reached her knees with the even pinker lace trim on the sleeve, where she was greeted by Isaiah. “Morning, Isaiah.” People think you’re nicer when you show you remember their name right? She looked over at his mug enviously while he came over, evidently more awake than she was. “Yeah, how ab-” She was prepared to be polite and ask him in return but it seemed that he was ready to move along. Coming in hot with this first impression….was the thought she had but didn’t dare say. She blinked in surprise at how efficient he had been, but was relieved that having a male roommate wouldn’t be as ‘sticky’ as her past experiences seeing college guys’ living spaces had been. “That’s really awesome, you put all that like, work into it for us.” She took a moment to quickly scan at the listed chores, appreciating how even things were split up. “Yeah, im into this system. Want me to give it a second glance - in case there’s any like additinal chores I mean?” She smiled sweetly, hoping he wouldn’t be offended by such a suggestion. “Why couldn’t you get to sleep last night?” She asked with polite curiousity.

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“Don’t go giving me too much credit,” he said, fairly good-naturedly, although he liked that she did. “Like I said, it’s rough. We can call it a draft.” He stayed quiet while she took a look at the chart, then nodded when she voiced her satisfaction with what he had so far. G-d forbid he wasted his time on something. “Yeah, no, that’d be sick. I definitely want input. Feel free to jot down anything,” he confirmed, passing the iPad over to her. “But that reminds me, so I’ve got this up in a Google doc and I figured I’d add all you guys to it anyway, so we can check off when things are completed and stuff. But if you want like, a physical copy of it, that we can hang off the back of the door or whatever, then—” Isaiah leaned forward with a little grunt to grab his cup again, bringing it up to his mouth. “—great news: I'm working at the library this semester and they’ve got a laminator and all that shit. We can look like a bunch of real professionals over here in two-oh-four.”

He took a long, slow sip of his chicory coffee. Reese’s follow-up question about his sleep, or lack thereof, was a little surprising, given that historically he, himself, very rarely inquired about that kind of stuff from near-strangers. Not on purpose, of course, but there always seemed to be something more important to talk about or do. He wet his lips when he pulled the cup away, then inhaled deeply. “I’ve just got — so much crap to do before classes start, it’s astounding.” Carefully looking over every aspect of his syllabi, making a neat list of every book he had to pickup at the bookstore that day, emailing professors to introduce himself, and reaching out to both the Jewish Student Union and the Social Justice Resource Center to inquire about schedules. Those were just a few tasks he had set out for himself. “If you see me making my way around campus today like I’ve got a light up my ass, don’t think twice about it. My to-do list’s a thing of organized chaos.”