Off Campus Read Free

these fucking softer than a baby’s ass pillows he was not thinking about stealing. “I’ll go to Res Life first thing, ’kay?”
    Something that sounded like “you and me both” made its way through the down fluff wrapped around his head. And then the real darkness fell again.
    Hours later, Tom found himself arguing with the woman behind the scarred wood counter in the Residential Life office until she snapped at him.
    â€œIt’s up to you, Mr. Worthington. If you’d rather wait to see if you can get a single room next semester, we can change your re-enrollment date. But there aren’t any open singles in Perkins House, no matter how much you tell me there has to be.”
    Tom blew out a breath and ran his hands through his hair.
    â€œIt’s just…” He tried to figure out what was stopping him from letting this poor woman go back to her work. “This kid, Reese, he seemed pretty sure that there wasn’t supposed to be anyone else in his room. And he looks at me like I’m a serial killer or something.” He thought of something. “I don’t even know if he slept there last night.”
    â€œI’m sure you’ll work it out.” She slapped the folder containing his file shut and threw him a bright smile. “If not, you can always check back in a couple weeks, see if anything’s opened up.”
    He could take a hint.
    Writing off his chances of making any progress here, he headed back to the dorm, still feeling hungover with fatigue and the sensation of having come to a sudden stop after an eternity of hustling at top speed. Everyone around him, the students crossing the quad or checking mail in the campus P.O. or hauling enormous white Target shopping bags into the dorms, seemed to be moving in fast forward while he trudged through some kind of temporal molasses. The disorientation was fierce.
    It didn’t help when your brain went off on labyrinthine tangents just to figure out how to say, Damn, I’m still tired.
    Since he didn’t have anything until a four p.m. appointment with his advisor, another crack at sacking out seemed like a good plan.
    It was only when he got back to his room, at least his room for now, and heard the music blaring from behind the closed door did he realize that his room might not be the most restful spot on campus today.
    He braced himself and unlocked the door, feeling enough like a guest to give a half-hearted knock, one that certainly couldn’t be heard over the techno crap, before he pushed in.
    Either his roommate had ears like a bat or he was watching the door for Tom’s return, because Reese was planted like an immovable object ready to meet an unstoppable force ten feet inside the room, hands on his hips, wearing nothing but a pair of cut-off black sweats, a yoga mat unrolled flat on the floor behind him.
    â€œWell?”
    It wasn’t really a question. More of a demand.
    Tom shrugged. “They told me no dice.” He slung his backpack on the bed he’d apparently still be sleeping in tonight, talking loudly to be heard over the dance music. Techno with yoga? He blocked the curiosity that spiked in him. None of his business. “You?”
    No answer other than the elegant yet impatient wave of one hand that Tom had already figured out meant Reese didn’t care for the answer to the previous question and so was skipping it.
    A dice shortage all around.
    He raised his voice again and stared pointedly at the stereo.
    â€œListen, I need some more sleep before I meet my advisor at four. Any chance we can take a vacay from the techno for an hour or two?”
    Reese swiped a remote control from his bed and pointed it at the receiver.
    Blessed silence.
    Until the kid went off on him again. Tom eased himself down onto the edge of the bed and did his best to look as if he were paying attention while he unlaced his shoes.
    â€œListen, what’s your name again?