The Last Girl on Campus

Chapter 5

Two hours and four beers later, I was sitting in the sandwich shop across from the club, staring at Cheyanne through my phone because the tablet died long ago. Even now, the phone was barely hanging on. Cheyanne was eating a bowl of chips, still on her bed. I took a bite of my BLT with mayo.

"That was really something," Cheyanne said.

"I know...what am I going to do tomorrow though?"

"Don't worry about it. You'll think about tomorrow when it is actually tomorrow."

"It's technically been tomorrow for an hour and a half," I said, yawning. "I'm ready for bed."

"Same," she said, just as the critical battery warning came up on my phone.

"I gotta go. Battery is running out."

"Okay, goodnight. Text me tomorrow."

"I will."

We hung up, I finished my sandwich, and waited out on the sidewalk for a cab to come by. The driver took me back to campus the long way and charged me ten bucks. I let it slide but didn't tip him.

Steinman hall was dark when I walked in. I felt my way back to the room in the darkness and unlocked the door. Richard was staring at me when I turned the light on.

"It's time for bed, buddy," I said, then went to my room.

I plugged in my tablet and phone, then crawled into bed. My mind was filled with dreams of dancing couples and sexy street elves.

The next morning played out in a pretty routine way. Take a shower. Eat breakfast. Feed Richard. Stare out the kitchen window. By the time all of that was done, it was past eleven. Time to be spontaneous. I sat on the couch, turned on the TV, and switched it to the crime channel, which was Rachel's favorite. She'd sit there for hours, procrastinating and getting sucked into episode after episode of all different shows.

After about ten minutes I was instantly fascinated with this murder mystery show and wound up not looking at the clock until my stomach was growling again. For lunch, I stuck with a frozen meal. Who even cooks during lunch? It just didn't make sense to me.

Literally all day I was on the couch watching crime dramas. It was five at night before I realized that the faint buzzing in my ear was actually my phone going off in the next room. I ran in and looked at all my texts. Kayla repeatedly asked if Richard was still alive. Cheyanne told me about ten times that she was bored. Rachel just wanted to know what happened. I responded to all of them, then went to the kitchen. Kayla had a drawer next to the sink which was so full it barely opened. It contained about every kitchen tool imaginable. She was an aspiring chef majoring in business so she could start her own restaurant and was cooking constantly. We had permission since the beginning of the year to use any of her tools—I just never needed them.

I found a knife and a cutting board, then got to work chopping up the one package of sausage I had. Before causing another disaster, I got online and called Kayla so she could help me out. She came up on the screen, sitting at her desk in her yellow bedroom.

"How are you not going insane yet?" she said. "My life is way too quiet without you guys."

"I'm trying to hang on. Only twenty-four days left."

She giggled. "It's nice to know that I'm not the only one counting down...so where are you at? And what are you making?"

"I was thinking like...spaghetti with sausage. I already chopped the meat up."

"Okay. That's easy enough. How much seasoning did you put on it?"

"Umm...none."

"Bridget! You have to season it!" she said. "Okay. All of my spices are in the cabinet above the stove. Just take out the salt and pepper."

I opened the cabinet. They were the first two in the front. "Got 'em."

"Great. Now put the sausage into the skillet and—"

"The skillet?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's where you put sausage in this situation."

"Oh," I said, bending down and getting the skillet out of the cabinet. I got the skillet on the stove and turned the burner on. Kayla was staring at me. I thought the screen was frozen for a second. "What?"

"What were you planning on doing with the sausage?" she asked.

"I...I was...going to put them into the pot with my pasta...you know, let them boiled with the pasta so all of their flavoring seeps in or whatever," I said, feeling my face turning redder.

Kayla leaned forward, rubbing her face in her hands. "I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry at this point. Just put them into the skillet."

I dropped the sausages in the pan one by one, turning them over as Kayla instructed. After about thirty minutes, I had a complete meal. I sat down with it at our kitchen table. Kayla had wheeled herself into her kitchen, and sat across from me eating the leftovers of what she prepared the previous night.

"I've been looking at some places for sale," she said between bites.

"Near you?" I asked, taking a bite of the heavenly sausage and thinking about how someone like me could possibly make something so delicious.

"Yes, near me."

"But you live in the middle of nowhere," I said.

"Town is only about twenty minutes away. My parents said they'd be willing to take me back and forth. I found this building that's been abandoned for a couple of years. It's really cheap."

"What happened to it? Was it just never bought or—"

"Haunted." She put her fork down. "Apparently it's haunted."

I started laughing. "Don't tell Rachel."

Kayla laughed along with me. "She'd totally freak out. Hey wait, I've got an idea for you to keep yourself occupied."

I spun my spaghetti around with my fork. "Well as you know I'm open to any and all suggestions."

"The campus vampire!"

"Except that one."

"Here me out on this one...call Rachel tomorrow night and take her with you. Do you know how hilarious that would be?"

"It probably wouldn't, because the campus vampire is just a myth."

"It's a good myth that makes a lot of sense; besides, Rachel is so gullible that if you freak out and say you saw it she'd probably believe it."

I laughed. "This is gonna be good."