The dorm wasn’t its usual late Friday night cacophony as Erin trudged down the hall. For once, music wasn’t pouring out of a half dozen rooms and only one door was open. As she passed it, Erin glanced in. A long-haired brunette was sitting on the side of one bed talking to a gangly boy who’d flopped across the other, his shirt riding up enough to expose the bottom of his ribs. He gave Erin a lazy smile and turned back to pretending to listen to the girl.
Erin rolled her eyes and kept walking.
As she approached her own room, the smell of sweet incense grew stronger. Erin’s gut tightened. Everyone on the floor knew her roommate Brenda was just trying to cover up the pot smell. But one stink replaced with another wasn’t an improvement, other than giving the Resident Assistant plausible deniability.
Her backpack felt heavier as she trudged forward. She started pre-playing the argument she was about to have. It was her room too! She deserved a chance to sleep without getting a contact high.
A few feet from the door, she pulled up short. A big, fat rubber band hung around the knob.
Erin sighed. When they’d agreed on this signal, she’d had the mistaken idea that she’d be the one bringing guys back to the room. Instead…
She checked her watch. A little before ten. Most nights, Brenda’s boyfriend didn’t stay past midnight.
Most nights.
With her luck, tonight would be one of the few exceptions.
Still grumbling to herself, she turned around and headed for the dorm lounge.
Erin fought to keep her eyes open. The Tonight Show had been a dud. Carson’s monologue had been lame, and she didn’t know most of the guests. At least Randy Quaid had been funny. But still, only the scratchy couch upholstery had kept her awake. That, and the churning resentment lodged in her belly.
After a yawn, she heaved herself to her feet. She almost stumbled as she crossed the room to the TV to turn it off.
She was too tired, she realized. She’d spent way, way too many nights studying into the wee hours.
She should change that.
She trudged down the hall to her room. The brunette’s door was now closed. Erin frowned as she tried to remember her name. Jennifer. One of the many, many Jennifers.
Erin pulled up in front of her door with a snort of exasperation. The rubber band was still on the door.
Fuck it.
She leaned close and listened. When she didn’t hear anything, she quietly knocked. When she still didn’t hear anything, she knocked a bit harder.
“Brenda?” Erin called through the door.
When she still got no answer, Erin pulled out her key. She took a deep breath. Maybe Brenda had left and just forgotten to take the rubber band off.
Erin opened the door slowly and peeked in. Her gut fell when she realized she was wrong.
Brenda sprawled across her bed, naked and unconscious. Her boyfriend was curled in a ball on the floor, also completely out.
The putrid smell hit her immediately. She stepped in and looked closer. Brenda’s boyfriend had thrown up, leaving a pool of vomit near his head, with chunks scattered here and there.
Erin’s stomach churned. Her roommate had thankfully put her joint in an ashtray on her nightstand. It still smoldered there, adding a skunk-like smell to the room. Erin’s chest tightened as she reflexively held her breath.
She looked more closely at Brenda. She was covered in semen—an impressive amount, actually—in her hair, her pubes, and all over her breasts.
Erin backed out of the room, pulled the door closed, and slumped in defeat.
She turned around just as Jennifer walked out of her room. The brunette was in a robe with a towel slung over her shoulder and her bathroom caddy in hand. She looked at Erin and her eyes widened.
“You okay?” Jennifer asked.
Erin shook her head. “My room’s a disaster. My roommate—,” She nodded toward the door. “Anyway, I can’t sleep there tonight.”
“Is it really that bad?”
“Wanna see?” Erin said. She held up her key.
Jennifer shrugged, but walked over. When Erin opened the door, Jennifer stuck her head in for about a count of five before pulling it out.
“Oh, honey,” Jennifer said, “that is a mess. No, you definitely can’t sleep there.”
“Yeah,” Erin said. “TV Lounge, here I come.”
“You can use my room,” Jennifer said. “My roommate went home for the weekend and you can use her bed. She won’t mind.”
“You sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. She’s had her ‘friend’ sleep in my bed. If she doesn’t like it, she can suck it.”
Erin raised an eyebrow at the quotes.
“Go on,” Jennifer said with a nod toward her room. “I’ll be there after my shower. It won’t take long.”
“Thanks,” Erin said, heartfelt.
“Go on,” Jennifer urged again with a shooing motion toward her room. “I’ll be right there.”
“Thanks.” Erin walked down to Jennifer’s room and took one look back before she walked in, but the brunette had already vanished into the bathroom.
Jennifer’s room was a study in yin and yang, Erin thought. The roommates had each clearly staked out “her” territory. The neatly made bed was covered with a dozen teddy bears resting on top of a pink and white comforter and three fluffy pillows with lacy borders. Framed pictures of what had to be family hung on the wall above the headboard, though one looked like a prom picture. All the books were neatly stacked on the desk and not a thing seemed out of place.
In contrast, the other bed, the one Erin had seen the guy lounging on, was rumpled and only half-made. Posters for Footloose and Purple Rain were taped at artistic angles on the wall. Clothes hung over the back of the desk’s chair and also were tossed across the foot of the bed. A pair of lacy panties were scrunched up in a ball off to one side.
The faint scent of pine air freshener still hung in the air. There wasn’t a hint of pot or cigarette smoke, though.
What’s she covering up? Erin mused. On impulse, she peeked in the trash can. A bunch of wadded up tissues half covered a torn condom wrapper. She looked a bit closer, and saw the edge of the rubber peeking out from the tissues as well.
With a smirk, she sat down on the un-mussed bed and waited.
To Erin’s surprise, Jennifer took a while to return. When she did, she looked flushed, and a bit out of breath. Still, she smiled at Erin. She had her towel wrapped around her head, but her thin cotton robe was only loosely tied.
“I hope I wasn’t too long…,” she said.
“No,” Erin said, “not at all.”
“Oh, good. It just felt so good to stand under the water.”
Erin hid a smirk. She knew exactly how good it felt to “stand under the water.”
Jennifer took the towel off and started drying her hair. “You need something to sleep in?”
“Uh… my underwear’s fine.”
“I’ve got an old sweatshirt if you want it. Might be more comfortable than a bra.”
“Yeah… okay,” Erin said. “I should probably go use the bathroom first, too.”
“Just a sec.” Jennifer opened a dresser drawer and rummaged around. After a bit, she pulled out a green and orange sweatshirt and tossed it to Erin.
“Really?” Erin said. “Miami? The Hurricanes? You know we’re the Gators, right?”
“The guy who left it was a jerk,” Jennifer said with a shrug.
“So why’d you keep it?”
“It’s comfortable. I’ve got some Reebok sweatpants if you want ’em.”
“No, that’s okay.”
“I don’t like ’em either.” Jennifer pulled out some thin aqua blue boxers with white trim. “These are my PJ’s.”
“The Dolphins?” Erin asked with a grin. “I’m sensing a theme."
“Hey,” Jennifer said, “Marino’s hot.”
Erin laughed. She scrunched up the Hurricanes sweatshirt in her hands. It was soft. Really soft.
“I’ll be right back,” she said.
In the bathroom, Erin changed into the sweatshirt and thought about what she knew about Jennifer. They’d met the first week, like everyone on the floor, but she hadn’t made much of an impression. She had early morning classes Monday, Wednesday, Friday and often showered at the same time Erin did, but what class that was, Erin hadn’t a clue. She vaguely had a memory that Jennifer was a sophomore and a business major, but she couldn’t be sure. Other than the occasional “hi” in the hall, they rarely encountered each other.
Similarly, she didn’t know Jennifer’s roommate Donna. She was a petite black-haired girl who wore a lot of pink. She also had a shower caddy that overflowed with makeup, though she rarely seemed to have any more on than a little lipstick. Now that she thought about it, Erin had never seen Donna on a weekend.
When Erin returned to the room, Jennifer was already in bed, sitting up against the headboard. She’d pulled her shoulder length hair back and loosely tied it and wore an oversized Dolphins jersey. She smiled at Erin and held up a small bound notebook.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Jennifer said. “I like to write in my diary before I go to sleep.”
“Sure,” Erin said with a shrug. She went to the pretty bed and began removing stuffed animals.
“Just drop ’em on the floor,” Jennifer said. “I’ll put ’em back tomorrow.”
“You’re sure Donna won’t mind?”
Jennifer snorted. “As long as you’re not a guy.”
“Oh…,” Erin said as she finished with the animals and pulled back the sheets. “She’s one of those? A goody-goody?”
“No,” Jennifer said with a shake of her head. “She has sex. But only with her hometown boyfriend. She’s in luuuve. And she thinks everyone should be.”
That was a preview of Wingwoman. To read the rest purchase the book.