I was sitting in Dot 2 physics with Ms. Chadborne, and things were preceding as usual. The small class of six were all on their school Macbooks, wasting the class away on Twitter and taking under-the-table Snapchats. The classroom was dark and reminded me of a crypt, and since I was convinced that Ms.Chadborne was a vampiric psychopath, I really didn’t like this class.
My seat is right by the window, and for a reason. I often gaze at the barren Maple tree outside the science building, trying to drown out the lecture and escape to somewhere else. As I was looking at the tremendous trunk, wondering what was for lunch, I noticed a freshman boy franctically waving at me from behind the tree.
At first, I played it off as if I couldn’t see him. As if. What did he want with me? They never learned to leave us alone, these freshman. After he caught my eye three times in a row, I gave up.
I mouthed to him, What do you want?
Come outside, he said.
I slipped outside.
In walking towards him, I could recognize him as a Parker kid. He kept ducking back behind the tree as if he was expecting someone to see him, and I swore I could have heard him laugh. Then, out of nowhere, he stood up and started walking towards me.
He stopped right beneath the tree and began to snicker. As I got close, I was readying myself to give him a good verbal bashing for making me come out here. Who did he think he was? If he pulled this shit with other people, he would have his ass handed to him. I was angry and frustrated, but then something resonated: no one would do this just for fun.
Just as I was going to take another step, I heard a whooping yell from above me. I snapped my head to look up, and saw a cascading yellow liquid hurtling towards me. I had jumped back just in time to see almost two gallons of urine splash onto the grass. Gagging, I turned away and tried to see who had dumped it from the roof of the science building. They were already gone.
The freshman had took off towards the fields, but I noticed he had dropped a piece of paper in his place. I picked it up, carefully avoiding the pee-stained grass. In a illegible, testosterone fueled scrawl, I could clearly make out some words.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
I didn’t need to see the initials at the bottom to know who it was from. Anderson Taylor. He had seen me when Ryan Koehler took that fall, and now all bets were off.
The Dorm War had really begun.
I folded up the paper, and half expecting another dumping, began to walk back inside. I had to watch my step from now on…literally.