Fresh Meat

Distractions

After the St. Croix Culinary Arts' exhibit, the remaining portion of the convention seemed uninspired. It was unfair to compare the colossal magnificence of Alexa's group to the other organizations, but I simply couldn't help myself. As an added factor, the giant display had been fairly energy-draining; the massive size and splendor unexpectedly tiring me out. Based off of Isabella and Keira's dragging legs, I could tell they were experiencing similar effects

"Well," Isabella huffed as we made our way towards the exit. "That turned out to be a lot more than I expected."

"No kidding," I agreed." I'm surprised at how many different clubs there are on campus, and how I didn't know about them when I applied."

"Maybe it wasn't what you were interested in?" Isabella questioned.

"Or what the school wanted to prioritize in their advertising," Keira added, referring back to a point previously made by Alexa. "We have moderate performances from our sports teams, which create much larger profits than any other organizations."

Isabella and I nodded as we took a left turn, turning north and heading up a bluff. On our right was the Sparks Conservatory, the main science building on the campus, while farther north was the Bestland Complex with the First, West, and South dorms. While it had been chilly earlier today, the air was now warm and crystal clear. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the atmosphere was completely still due to the absence of wind. The campus itself was pretty quiet too--nobody wanted to spend their Saturday afternoon at school.

"Are you hungry, Nick?" Keira asked, breaking the silence. "Isabella and I were going to get dinner after this if you're interested."

I pulled out my phone, checking the time.

"It's 4:30."

"And it will be after five by the time we get there," Isabella explained. "We're heading to Portillo's in Woodbury."

"Isabella was feeling a bit homesick this last night," Keira interpreted.

"Ah," I raised an eyebrow. "As delicious as a Chicago-style hotdog sounds right now, I actually already have plans."

"Really?" Isabella was aghast. "When did we start seeing other people, Mr. Fleming?"

"When Professor Walsh assigned that eight page research paper for next Friday," I grumbled. "I'm going to start drafting tonight."

"Drafting?" Keira mocked. "You just said it isn't due for another week."

"When else am I supposed to write it then?"

"The night before."

"Obviously," Isabella concurred.

"You two are absolutely right." To emphasize my sarcasm, I took a sharp turn away from them and towards West Bestland.

"It can wait you know!" Keira called out, but I kept moving.

"Fine, have fun alone on a Saturday night!" Isabella faked anger.

"Pathetic," Keira added, her fabricated taunt causing me to turn around and give a teasing wave. Once I'd finished my dramatization, I swung open the door and climbed the staircase. The last few weeks had slowly trained my calves, pushing them towards the final goal of mountain-climbing. I wasn't exactly out of shape, but on the first day I was panting by the time I'd made it to my room. Now, I flew up the stairs like a duck taking flight: not exactly majestic but still impressive.

Moseying down the sixth floor, I passed by countless doors before I reached my own. It took me a few seconds to find my keys, and then a few more fumbling with them before I actually opened my door. Exhausted after a seemingly long day (although it had really only been a few hours), I tossed my tote bag on my bed and removed my shoes. A few of the bag's contents fell onto the floor, including the piece of carrot cake I had grabbed earlier. Deciding that it could be my meal for the night, I placed it beside my laptop on the desk and cleaned up the rest of the mess. It took a couple more minutes to organize everything out before I situated myself down to begin work.