The Temporary Virginity of the American Player

15. The Mayans Were Wrong, the World's Coming Down Now.

Alarm clocks are electronic parrots that are incapable of doing anything but squawking and hoping they sound close to Satan laughing. I didn't want to get up early, but duty calls when you're dealing with college. I dragged myself out of bed, skipped the shower, and went straight down to the café to grab a coffee. Lena hadn't gotten there yet, but high school Avery was doing his duty behind the register, ringing up an elderly couple.

"Hi, Nick," he said. "Cappuccino, right?"

"Yeah," I responded, hauling myself onto a bar-stool. "Where's the Lenameister at?"

"She'll be working in a few hours," he said, waving goodbye to the couple and heading over to the coffee machine. "Want some whipped cream or no?"

"Yeah. I thought she worked here twenty-four/seven," I said dumbly, and he snorted.

"She's got a life too, you know. Where are you headed?"

"Classes in a few," I shrugged as he handed me a cup. "Don't you have school?"

"Not today; it's teacher's institute. Want me to tell Lena you stopped by? Or will you be back later?"

"I'll probably be back," I shrugged, though I honestly wasn't sure. "Thanks anyway, though. See ya."

Actually, I wasn't sure if I would, but it seemed like a nice thing to say regardless. I waved, taking my cappuccino with me and driving out to campus. Girls, girls, girls, and girls all over the place. It was a little difficult to keep my eyes off of some of them, but I managed to park without ramming into a pole. I jumped out of the vehicle and scanned the yard for a good view or five. There was a shaded oak tree that had a good view of a bunch of girls playing volleyball. There was a bench that had a decent view of a homework club with a pretty girl. There was the main staircase where a group of girls were gossiping. Eh, screw it. Not like they were worth my time anyway. I decided to stay in my car and wait until the classes came around, laying low and enjoying the scenery as it came into view.

It wasn't until five minutes before my first class started that I finally got out of my car and went on into the building, a colossal thing made out of brick that loomed over its victims. When I was little, I used to associate school with jail. I mean, think about it; kids can't make decisions by themselves, would get busted if they made a mistake or didn't want to go, and weren't allowed to leave. It was a horrible situation. In college, you could basically do whatever you wanted. However, it was still hell. What was worse than college hell were the classes inside the college. For instance, general math. What kind of sick animal invented math? I was in college and I was STILL asking myself, "When am I ever going to use this?"

I sat through the whole class gnawing on the eraser of my pencil and trying to focus on bigger things that the square root of pie multiplied by the square root of the mass of the sun. I was thinking about more important things, like why I wasn't focused and instead thinking about the night before and the epic panda win. I'd never had problems focusing in school before; not even when I was hung over. For some reason, my head just wasn't in the game today and that irritated me. I was almost glad when the class was over and I was able to move out of there, and I didn't waste any time catching a view when the time came to go. I jumped in my car and went straight back to the apartment where I belonged.

I sighed, letting myself into the apartment and shuffling inside. As soon as I entered the manly lair, I knew something was very, very wrong. For one, a lone figure was sitting on the sofa with a carton of ice cream, and Spongebob Squarepants was on television. There was only one circumstance where Spongebob was ever allowed on television.

Someone was upset.

"Johnny, is that you?"

"Yep," the figure said, licking chocolate ice cream off of a spoon.