Let's Get Ethan ✔

Chapter 2

The two boys walked down the dorm hallway to get out to the quad, the hallways were incredibly stuffy. The ugly grey and orange carpet flashed under their feet as they travelled further into the main building. The whole dorm building was called "Kent Hall," named after famed alumni Kent Henson, legendary man about town. Kent Henson went on to become an Olympic tennis star, this was in the '90s, so Kent was probably just about anywhere, but a college campus. Though he did donate a tennis court to UC-Santa Barbara.

As Lincoln and Ethan left the dorm, they got a view of the rest of the masterful building. It was almost like a small city within a larger city. The windows were wide, allowing light to stream in unobstructed. They looked out those windows and a large field and building cropped up into view. This was the student center.

The sky was bright as they headed over to where they thought people would be. They entered the outdoor space in front of the multiple storeys of housing. They looked over at the main campus center, there they could see tables and chairs set up with dioramas and trifold boards.

The banner that waved over the stands read "Club Fair." There were easily one hundred people in the vicinity, so it was nearly impossible not to see. There were many colorful signs shooting out from the grass, and as they got closer, Ethan could read them, "Poetry Club," "Space Warriors Club," "Soccer Club," "Fantasy Football Club," "Laser Tag Club," "Helping Hands Club," along with a string of Alpha Kappa—whatever, on the end.

The spread grew even more enticing, as both he and his roommate walked over to the booth noticing the buffet table to the side: punch, cookies, and delicious looking sub sandwiches laid in the sun, Ethan stared hungrily.

"Hi," said an overly enthusiastic boy, from Ethan's left. He was pandering for Chess Club, Ethan looked over and greeted him, but didn't get any closer. He had joined a chess club in high school but had always felt outsmarted by his teammates. They hadn't appreciated his lack luster attitude toward the pawns and often had him sit out. It wasn't his fault they never explained the rules and he never bothered to learn them. Or maybe it was?

Either way, Ethan had a sour taste in his mouth from that student organization.

He perused alone. Lincoln was on the other side of the booths, chatting to a fraternity table, Kappa Phi. The guys were laughing along with him, even though Lincoln was not particularly funny. But Ethan kept to himself and wandered over to an interesting looking booth at the end.

Improv Club.

Oh, how he longed to join a group of people that got down into it with absurdity. And he wasn't being facetious, he genuinely wanted to make friends who were interested in the same things he was. Even though Ethan was signed up as a marketing major, what he wanted to be was an English major. Ethan's ultimate, dream job was to become a comedy writer.

He wanted to write for shows on television networks, like SNL, or become a comedian and learn how to entertain people. Ethan had that desire, and yet, always, his parents had showered him with the idea that entertaining people was useless. His parents thought becoming successful meant you had to pick a steady career, and you had to go to college.

Ethan was led by the ear into the School of Business, and that was his path, at least for the time being. Though he knew he would always pursue writing, even if it was just a side gig, or possibly a career if he ever "made it."

He approached a scrawny looking girl in glasses, she was tabling for Improv Club. She wore way too many perfumes; he could almost taste them in his mouth. Her lips curled up, the cherry red stain on them appeared almost natural. The smile was goofy, yet not unappealing. Certainly, the face of someone who was trying too hard to be approachable. Perhaps, the improv group was hurting for new members.