Sounds good to me.
I go to my room, and start copying: “The all-stock purchase of Time Warner (TW) by America Online (AOL) was perhaps the ultimate display of Internet-era exuberance. The merger represented a supposed model for the future, where an endless stable of content was delivered anywhere at any time through seamless networks that integrated with effortless hardware.”
When did Kimmy become so articulate? Who knew? I’m impressed. And aroused.
I flip my chin between her paper and my keyboard, typing what I see. I change a few words to make it sound like mine. Forty minutes later, the words start to swim in front of my eyes.
Telephone rings. “Time for bed?” Kimmy purrs.
“Definitely,” I say, and hit the print key.
layla’s library libido
Wednesday, March 3, 10:45 a.m.
“Our initial product rollout for the women’s condom will target areas that fall within the triangular shape formed by Boston, Miami and Chicago,” Jamie says, as the PowerPoint slide behind him illuminates a gigantic triangle. “A strategy we refer to as the golden triangle.”
Everyone in the class snickers. He is too much. I can’t stop laughing. How can someone make a Marketing presentation so funny? I’m not the only person howling, either. It feels like Comedy Central in here. And the place is packed. I bet everyone came just to hear him present. I wonder if he’s ever thought about show business.
“People,” he says, “get your mind out of the gutter. The product packaging is gold.”
I feel a pang of jealousy when all five in his work group start laughing. I wish I were in that group. My group did a presentation on the soda industry, and they’ve been doing condoms every night. Where’s the justice?
When the group finishes, they hand out freebies. Cool. It’s like getting a loot bag after a party, except with this stuff in hand, the party comes later. Hopefully I’ll be able to use this over spring break when we finally have sex.
At the end of the day, I stop at the Internet terminals to check my e-mail. One from Brad, asking me if I want to see the Broadway play Avenue Q during March break. He’s gotten really into e-mails and phone calls lately. Almost obsessively. It’s almost suffocating. Oh, well. At least he’s booked my break with dinner reservations and concerts. And he’s taking off two days so we can spend some time during the day together.
Library time. I knock on Jamie’s door to collect him. No answer. Oh, well. I trudge through the snow on my own.
I find him at our regular spot on the fourth floor. “I’m so happy you’re here,” I say, sitting on the chair next to his.
“I’m happy you’re here,” he says. “It’s time for a walk.”
“But I just arrived!”
“All the more reason to take a break. Hey, Jason,” he says to the guy sitting at the table. “Will you watch our laptops?” He extends his arm to me, and we stroll through the library, waving to the people we know. His short arm hairs tickle my skin. We’re both cold and goose-bumpy. In the hallway in front of the elevator he performs a yogalike stretch. “I think I’ve lost all feeling in my toes,” he says.
“How long have you been here?”
“Since three-thirty.”
I look at my watch. “It’s only three-forty five.”
“Exactly.”
“How’s the job search going?”
“I thought this was our break?”
“Sorry, Jamie. I was just wondering what your story was.”
“Avoidance.”
I remember my earlier observation. “Have you thought about going into show business?”
“Yeah, why? You think I could be a star?”
“I was thinking you’d like to work for a film company. I have a friend in the city who works for Miramax. I’m sure he’d be happy to talk to you.”
“That would be amazing.” He faces me and puts both hands on my shoulders. “You’re always looking out for me, huh?”
“Always,” I answer. “Let’s get back to work.”
“What do you say we work for forty minutes and then do a massage train?”
Who knew my Alpha Phi massage train would be a hit at B-school? “It’s not a massage train with only two of us. It’s just a massage.” He looks forlorn, so I decide to compromise. “Fine. But first I work for an hour.”
“Half an hour,” he negotiates.
“Forty minutes,” I say. I set my watch and return to my work.
Forty minutes later, my alarm goes off. I stop it before the librarian boots us out for disturbing the peace. “Me first,” I whisper. He stands up behind me, rolls his sleeves, and begins massaging my neck. Tighter…oooh…ahh…It’s sooo good. I feel sooo relaxed. I feel sooo good.
I feel sooo…aroused?
I probably shouldn’t be feeling aroused at the library. I probably shouldn’t be feeling aroused by a man who’s not my boyfriend.
kimmy saves her boyfriend’s ass
Sunday, March 7, 4:00 p.m.
Russ doesn’t answer when I knock on his door, so I knock again.
I hear the Spider-Man soundtrack. Why isn’t he answering if he’s inside? Is it possible…is he…is he in there with someone else? Bastard. He’s probably sleeping with some slut. Who? Who can he possibly be screwing? Lauren? Layla? Some coed?
“You’d better open up,” I say, seething, and continue pounding. “I know you’re in there. Open the damn door!”
The door creaks. I kick it wide open. “Where is-”
Russ’s hair is ruffled, and his eyes are half-closed. He’s wearing jeans and his favorite green Roots sweatshirt. He’s alone. “Were you napping?” I ask, feeling stupid.
He nods and lies back down. Why was he napping when he was supposed to be studying Finance? The midterm is tomorrow. And it’s impossible. For me, anyway. I don’t understand any of this stuff. I’m going to fail. It’s only worth twenty percent, but still.
Russ also has to finish his part for the GBE project. He promised Jamie that he would have his section done by five. Jamie has to finish putting it together and hand it all in tomorrow. Just like he did for the Marketing assignment, Russ is the last one to finish his part for the GBE. “Did you finish studying for Finance?”
“Almost.”
I think he’s lying. “Yeah? Good. Let’s work on Operations, then.”
He groans. “Let me get a cup of coffee.”
Nick sticks his head in the doorway. “Russ, aren’t you coming with me to ref?”
Ref? What is he talking about?
Russ slaps his good hand across his forehead. “Oh, man. I forgot.”
“What’s ref?” I ask. Don’t tell me he’s blowing off studying for basketball. Again.
“I promised I’d referee the game tonight, since I can’t play.” He waves his sprained hand at me.
“You promised to referee a game when we have a midterm tomorrow? Are you crazy?”
He scratches his head. “It does seem stupid, now that you mention it.”
“You can’t get out of it now, dude,” Nick says.
Why is there a basketball game right before a midterm? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.
“I’m just refereeing the first game and then I’ll be back,” Russ says. “Give me an hour.”
Is he an idiot? “You think you can finish studying and also finish your part of the assignment all tonight? Does this mean you’re going to be pulling another all-nighter?”
“Probably.” He kisses me on the forehead and scampers off. That boy seriously needs a vacation.
I review my notes for Finance and then take a ten-minute break to play on Travelocity to find a last-minute vacation.
Apparently I cannot afford Barbados. Maybe Miami? Seems like every undergrad in the world is going to Miami. I need something cheap. Romantic. Did I mention cheap? Montreal pops up. Montreal? Is Montreal cheap?