Leavened

| Chapter 2 |

It was the third day Kenny went missing from home. A week since he dropped his weekly payment of the banquet dinner and home-coming for his best of three friends - Jones.

Zoe, the eldest amongst us, was a pessimist so to speak. A pessimist who often, rather too often, placed the negativity of a situation as the topmost feature of a certain discussion, be it biblical, traditional or anything beyond her feminist ideologies and understanding. She was too simple in her thinking but quite opposing to that, her lifestyle and beliefs made her a bigot. She was the type whose ideologies of life made her live a sophisticated life, middle-class of course, but would never admit to her level of membership of our highly capitalist systemized college.

On the other hand, Jones, not too different from Zoe lived a lesser exquisite life. He had different opinions from all three of us, but he had never been bigoted in his thinking. A bonus to which i admired him was the crazy fact that he had bright blue eyes and an aura that attracted most girls especially the ones with high-waisted boyfriend jeans, high profiled parents and superficial attitudes.

Kenny, the youngest and only black in the quad, was the direct opposite of each of us. He was not keen on observing people - tall people especially - like me. For Zoe, he was typical and thought like everyone would. As persevering as Jones was, it was extremely clear that he was more empowering to others and he was a feminist. Feminism was the only reason Zoe and him became acquaintances to each other.

I was still checking the tabletop for his payment but there was nothing. It was empty except for rye lighter and two shots glasses. That - the two glasses - was a sign that he might have been around the house. I picked up the glasses, staring at the window, large and wide.

The konk smell of Magic moments stirred accurately with the honey hit somewhere volatile in my nose. There was a spark that fled from my throat into a place in my head. Instantly, I dropped them and went over to my phone. There was a beep. It was an SMS from Jones which read: Be home soon. Click.

A brief smile clouded my lips but when I saw my reflection on the round mirror adjacent to where I was standing, the smile disappeared. But somehow, with the potency of Jones' charm, I was again smiling.

The next thirty minutes were one of my desperate moments. Jones and I were on the grey three-seater in the living room, reliving the moments of college as sophomore students.

"Drat! I forgot. Kenny would literally kill me." He picked up his phone, his face scrunched up.

I walked down the kitchen centre and pulled out a quarter-filled bottle of green, pungent-like liquid. It was a souvenir from the last invitees meetings Historical Arts and International Relations students had organized in Ohio. There had been a huge turnout of unusually quiet students, mostly and oddly a large amount of ladies present. It had been the normal - dim lights, red solo cups raised in the air and boomed music. Although, I was forced by Zoe, it was, so to say, the most interesting adventure I had ever embarked on with Zoe.

Once the sip of locally made beer diluted with what Zoe described as a special secret ingredient landed at the back of my tongue, it was almost as if my taste bud was rejecting the drink but unfortunately, there was no going back. In and out of terror, the quarter-filled bottle emptied and as the last drop swam below my tongue, a loud noise erupted from the room.

Instantly, as if not intoxicated by the New Zealand's finest beer, I dashed into the corridor that led to the rooms. Each room having arched entrances and red wooden doors. Jones' room, the first by the right, dim lights and greatly furnished with mostly black accompanied with grey-painted furniture. I saw him, Jones, almost dead, so it looked. His lashes moved upwards and downwards as each second went by.

All I remembered encountering were the sharp pains by the sides of my neck, arm and thighs. Also, before the pains, I recovered a soft and silky item in my hand as I fell unto the floor with little memories of the previous events.