Original Stories Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction ❯ The Dorm Diaries ❯ Marissa Part 1 ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

“That one kind of looks like a duck…no wait…is that a horn?” I paused for a moment. I was talking to myself again. My mother was right. It had not been a good idea to put my desk facing the window. As I looked down at the chemistry book that I was supposed to be studying from, I was not surprised to find the words blurred and the ideas confusing. I was far too distracted to study. Turning away from my desk, I looked at my desk, trying to find something else to pass time. The clock on the wall read 4:30; it was an hour before my boyfriend showed up for our habitual lunch. I drummed my fingers on my naked thighs and congratulated myself yet again for making the decision to wear shorts. We were entering the first couple days of May and the weather was giving not so subtle hints of summer to come. My momentary boredom drove me to my university issued chest of drawers. I was not all together surprised of what I found there. I needed to do laundry badly. If the weather was going to be anything like it was today, my supply of clothes made up chiefly long sleeved shirts just would not do. Crossing the room to the closet, I began to gather bits of clothing to take to the basement laundry room. It only took a few minutes, and before long I was standing in the hallway with my laundry basket locking my dorm room door.
My floor was relatively quiet; most of the girls had either gone home for the weekend or were out enjoying the good weather. As I bent over to pick up my laundry basket, a shadow caught my eye. A few doors down, Marissa, a girl who also lived on the floor, was also standing before her door with her laundry basket. Locking her door, she picked up her basket and walked past me. I tried not to seem obvious, but I was gaping. I’d met Marissa casually, during the first week of school. She lived on one end of the hall, and I on the other, and so we’d rarely had chances to interact. Usually she wore t-shirts and shorts, but this time was totally different. Dressed in cut off jeans and a top that advertised her midriff, I watched unabashed as she closed the distance between us. Fumbling with my keys, I attempted got away from her the only way I knew how; to go back into my dorm room. I was not quick enough however, because by the time I got my key into the door, she’d already passed me and I was left staring at her back. My eyes were immediately drawn to a mole on her hip. Before I could find any other noticeable characteristics, she rounded the corner toward the elevators.