The Writers' Circle

Jake felt sick by the time he got back to his dorm room. He had been drinking at the river for the past few hours with a couple of other guys, and after a certain level of drunkenness had become too confident in his tolerance. Now his heart was falling into his stomach. 
	He looked in the sink-mirror. His face was saggy and red, shiny with sweat. Faint rays of sunlight were coming through the window, hinting at dawn.
	Jake climbed to the top of his bunk-bed. The room wasn't bright enough yet to keep him awake. After staring at the ceiling for a moment, making sure the cow he thought he saw was really just a light-blotch, he closed his eyes, turning to his memory for a quick recap of the night's events before losing consciousness. 
	
	Six hours later, at 11 AM, Jake woke up to the snowy chirpings of his radio alarm-clock. The room seemed brighter and whiter than usual. Everything was quiet too, which meant that his roommate, Prick Face, was probably in class. 
	Slowly at first, Jake began to masturbate. As he did it, he started thinking of a girl he meant last night at the river who, he was pretty sure, had been sucking on his tongue, though it might have been a dream. The girl had dark brown hair, and her thighs had been thick and tan. She had given him her phone number, he was almost positive, and had whispered something about needing to change her--
	Prick Face coughed.
	Jake stopped moving and stopped breathing.  For a few seconds he lay there silently, fixing his eyes on the ceiling and pretending he didn't exist. 
	Finally, he let out a breath.
	"Danny?"
	"Ya?"
	"Are you awake?"
	"No. I'm asleep." Danny said it in the most condescending tone possible.
	"Well... I thought you had a class around now." Jake could feel a warm redness filling his face.
	"I do. I skipped it."
	"Oh... Okay." He could see there was nothing more to be said. "Well I'll let you get back to sleep then."
	Slowly, Jake pushed out of bed. He wasn't sure why he was doing it slowly except that it felt like the right thing to do. From the window it looked nice outside--sunny and warm. He was happy about this because it meant he could run before his classes, and running worked like an anti-depressant for him. 
	He decided he would run first, and then shower, study and go to classes. That way Danny would have plenty of alone time. 
	He grabbed a pair of dirty jogging pants and a wrinkled t-shirt from a pile of clothes on the floor by his computer. He walked out of the room, through the hall, and into the hall bathroom, picking out a stall to change in. He noticed that some students, probably drunk, had recently tagged the stall. On one of the inner-walls it said "Scotland Rules" (Scotland Hall was the name of the building) in red permanent-marker, and then next to it, "DANNY IS A HOMO." This second message surprised Jake a little because, while he knew Danny was disliked by a lot of people on his floor for being pretentious, he hadn't thought anyone was dumb enough or mean enough to start spreading petty rumors about him. Though Jake didn't like Danny much himself, he felt a little sorry for the prick now.
	As he began to unzip his jeans he noticed a third tag scrawled at the bottom of the wall near the base of the toilet. It was one of those "For a Good Time" messages and there was a number written in lipstick. Suddenly Jake remembered the number he'd gotten from that brunette. He dove for it excitedly and soon his fingers were brushing over a flat, folded piece of paper in a back pocket. He pulled it out, opened it. Sure enough--the dream had been real.    
	Something was wrong though. The number on the piece of paper was also in lipstick. 
	Jake silently laughed off the possibility that the number that girl gave him and the one in the stall could be the same, but of course, he checked anyway. Then, all at once, all of his excitement turned into a kind of crushed humiliation. 
	It was the same girl. 
	For a moment, Jake frowned at the toilet bowl, clenching the paper in a tight fist. The person in here before him had forgotten to flush. Without telling himself to, he started to tear up the number letting the scraps drop, one by one, into the shit water. He couldn't understand why the only women he ever attracted were sluts. 
	After he was done, he went on with changing as if nothing had happened, and then left the stall to throw his clothes back in the room and grab his shoes. Many of the doors were open now, some blaring out pop music, some with lots of people talking or laughing or yelling drunkenly. It was almost like the whole floor had just woken up. 
	Jake went in and out of his room quick so as to avoid noticing if opening the door had woken Danny up. His heart had started to beat a little faster. Cell phone in hand, he walked back to the bathroom and grabbed a few paper-towels, watering them down. He entered the tagged stall, making sure to lock it behind him. The number was still there, as red and smudged as ever. With a smile he couldn't help, Jake copied and saved it into his contacts list. The brunettes face was clear in his head now--those dimples, so cute they were almost nubile, and those fat juicy lips that seemed to say "kiss me" every time they came together.
	Before leaving the stall, Jake used the paper towels to wipe the number into an indecipherable blur of red. It was mainly because he was afraid someone else might try to call her, but right now he told himself that it was out of respect. When he had finished everything and flushed away all of the evidence, he opened the stall door. Mike Higgins--from across the hall--was standing in front of him, flossing his teeth at one of the mirrors.
	"Hows it going Jake?" He said, adding his trademark awkward laugh.        
	"Not bad. You?" Jake's voice had started shaking.
	"Not bad. Not bad."
	"Well... I'm off for a run!"
	Jake started moving towards the door but Mike spoke again right as he opened it.
	"Jake!"
	"Ya?"
	"Hey I don't know if you noticed but there's some whore's number in the stall there. Better jump on that shit man!" Mike put on a wide, flossy grin.
	"Ya." Jake said, trying his best to sound disgusted but not offended.
	He left the bathroom before he could get a response. The hall was drowning in energy now and Jake couldn't hear what he was thinking. Feeling empty, he jogged out of the building and off to the river.