a roommate. This could be an interesting semester.”
Dena, the brave soul, had just met Piper, which completed the suitemate debacle. Across the hall were Allison and Regina, who shared a bathroom, as suitemates did, with Suzanne and Denise. Frannie worried Dena would feel left out with all the prepping she and Janie had done for their dorm room. But true to her sense of independence, Dena could care less. She had her own dark red paisley bedspread, matching sheets, and throw pillows. The girl had her own sense of style and it fit her so well. While the rest of the world hosed everything down with avocado green, harvest gold, or burnt orange, Dena’s favorite color was red. Not a soft, rosy red, but a bold, crisp red. Not many people could pull off the things Dena did. The girl was definitely a class act. And when Piper had arrived with her stoic parents, Dena’s courteous manner flowed as if she were a hostess on Let’s Make A Deal , trying to entice contestants to choose curtain #1.
The first week at Sam was freshman orientation. Just the feeling of walking out of her dorm on her own helped Frannie stand a little taller than her 5’2” height. Crossing the street, she, Dena, and Janie noticed a couple of guys standing across from Kampus Korner, also known as KK, the fast food and sundry shop on campus. Obviously not freshmen, the guys eyed the girls all the way up the steep incline to the top where Old Main, the administrative building, stood.
“Hold…up.”
Frannie and Dena turned to find Janie, blotchy-cheeked and panting, sitting on a nearby bench. They waited for their friend to catch her breath.
“Did you see that blonde-headed guy?” Dena asked. “Frannie, he had his fucking sights set on you.”
“Shush.” Frannie narrowed her eyes in a warning look.
“What…we’re not in church.” Dena gathered her thick brown hair and pulled it up off her neck. “Damn, even seventy miles north of Houston, it’s still hot as hell.”
“I mean it!” Frannie’s face turned ashen despite the August heat. “Lower your voice if you’re gonna talk like that.” Living by the rules had always been Frannie’s forte, and she vowed to live by her own now, but some rules were just common sense. “I’d like us to get registered before they kick us off campus.”
Swatting at Frannie, Dena said, “What do you mean? I always talk like that.”
Frannie turned back to Janie and offered her hand. “She’s hopeless.”
Her face color evened out, as well as her breathing, Janie accepted Frannie’s hand to lift herself off the bench.
“She’s Dena.”
~~~
Later that evening, the newly-formed BAGs congregated in Janie and Frannie’s room for the first of many soirees. Allison opened the conversation by cutting straight to the chase with Dena. “I’m wondering. You seem to be a natural at dropping the F-bomb. How do you do that?” Allison smiled and tilted her body toward Dena. “Don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”
“And you won’t, either.” Janie exchanged a knowing look with Frannie. “She’s got a theory about this.” Both girls turned toward Dena.
“Go ahead, you’re on,” Janie said.
“Okay, I’ll make this short.” Dena settled herself on one of the beds and bunched a throw pillow against her stomach. “I don’t see what all the fuss is. I mean, who decides words are bad, anyway?” She scratched her temple with one of her long nails. “Fornicate is acceptable. So is copulate, coitus, and intercourse.”
Suzanne visibly shook like she’d stepped into a meat locker. Denise listened intently to the explanation being presented.
Pausing for emphasis, Dena shrugged before breaking out one of her beautiful smiles. “So…what the fuck?”
Janie and Frannie had heard it all before, but the rest of the group sat in silence after listening to a profoundly new form of logic.
“I’ve never thought of it that way. Ever.” Denise, round-eyed, grabbed Suzanne’s arm.
Dena, the brave soul, had just met Piper, which completed the suitemate debacle. Across the hall were Allison and Regina, who shared a bathroom, as suitemates did, with Suzanne and Denise. Frannie worried Dena would feel left out with all the prepping she and Janie had done for their dorm room. But true to her sense of independence, Dena could care less. She had her own dark red paisley bedspread, matching sheets, and throw pillows. The girl had her own sense of style and it fit her so well. While the rest of the world hosed everything down with avocado green, harvest gold, or burnt orange, Dena’s favorite color was red. Not a soft, rosy red, but a bold, crisp red. Not many people could pull off the things Dena did. The girl was definitely a class act. And when Piper had arrived with her stoic parents, Dena’s courteous manner flowed as if she were a hostess on Let’s Make A Deal , trying to entice contestants to choose curtain #1.
The first week at Sam was freshman orientation. Just the feeling of walking out of her dorm on her own helped Frannie stand a little taller than her 5’2” height. Crossing the street, she, Dena, and Janie noticed a couple of guys standing across from Kampus Korner, also known as KK, the fast food and sundry shop on campus. Obviously not freshmen, the guys eyed the girls all the way up the steep incline to the top where Old Main, the administrative building, stood.
“Hold…up.”
Frannie and Dena turned to find Janie, blotchy-cheeked and panting, sitting on a nearby bench. They waited for their friend to catch her breath.
“Did you see that blonde-headed guy?” Dena asked. “Frannie, he had his fucking sights set on you.”
“Shush.” Frannie narrowed her eyes in a warning look.
“What…we’re not in church.” Dena gathered her thick brown hair and pulled it up off her neck. “Damn, even seventy miles north of Houston, it’s still hot as hell.”
“I mean it!” Frannie’s face turned ashen despite the August heat. “Lower your voice if you’re gonna talk like that.” Living by the rules had always been Frannie’s forte, and she vowed to live by her own now, but some rules were just common sense. “I’d like us to get registered before they kick us off campus.”
Swatting at Frannie, Dena said, “What do you mean? I always talk like that.”
Frannie turned back to Janie and offered her hand. “She’s hopeless.”
Her face color evened out, as well as her breathing, Janie accepted Frannie’s hand to lift herself off the bench.
“She’s Dena.”
~~~
Later that evening, the newly-formed BAGs congregated in Janie and Frannie’s room for the first of many soirees. Allison opened the conversation by cutting straight to the chase with Dena. “I’m wondering. You seem to be a natural at dropping the F-bomb. How do you do that?” Allison smiled and tilted her body toward Dena. “Don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”
“And you won’t, either.” Janie exchanged a knowing look with Frannie. “She’s got a theory about this.” Both girls turned toward Dena.
“Go ahead, you’re on,” Janie said.
“Okay, I’ll make this short.” Dena settled herself on one of the beds and bunched a throw pillow against her stomach. “I don’t see what all the fuss is. I mean, who decides words are bad, anyway?” She scratched her temple with one of her long nails. “Fornicate is acceptable. So is copulate, coitus, and intercourse.”
Suzanne visibly shook like she’d stepped into a meat locker. Denise listened intently to the explanation being presented.
Pausing for emphasis, Dena shrugged before breaking out one of her beautiful smiles. “So…what the fuck?”
Janie and Frannie had heard it all before, but the rest of the group sat in silence after listening to a profoundly new form of logic.
“I’ve never thought of it that way. Ever.” Denise, round-eyed, grabbed Suzanne’s arm.
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