Quinn walked slowly through the door to the lab, setting her bag down next to her bench. Chemistry. Why the hell did it have to be chemistry, Quinn thought, surveying the bench. Somehow, the array of beakers, flasks, and test tubes did not excite Quinn. Things were so much easier in High School, she mused as she removed her notebook from her bag.

"Hey, I’m Scott! And you are," asked the red-haired boy walking up to the bench next to hers.

"Hi. I’m Quinn."

"Hi Quinn." Looking about the classroom, he watched the entering students for a moment before continuing. "So, are you a chemistry major?"

Quinn eyed Scott nervously for a moment. "Um, no. I don’t actually have a major at the moment. I’m still, uh, trying to figure that out…"

"Hey, nothing to be ashamed of," he said, patting her on the back. "If you promise not to tell, I’ll let you in on a little secret." He leaned over in a faux-conspiratorial tone. "I’m not a chemistry major either. Well, ‘not yet’, according to my friends back home."

"Not yet?"

"I was pretty good at chemistry back in high school. Probably because I spent a fair amount of time trying to synthesize explosives in my basement."

Quinn looked up at him, backing away slightly. "Are you, um, serious?"

Scott returned Quinn’s look, smiling slightly. "Oh, absolutely." Noticing Quinn’s concerned expression, he continued. "Don’t worry, I wasn’t actually planning on DOING anything, mind you. I just wanted to see if I could…"

"Didn’t your mom mind?" Quinn couldn’t even imagine getting away with something like that at home.

"Well, all of my equipment was down there, so my mom kind of avoided the basement whenever possible."

"Oh." Quinn looked back over her lab bench, staring at the assortment of glassware in front of her, buying herself a few moments to think. I should be nice, she thought. I’ll be stuck next to him all semester.

"I hope I didn’t scare you Quinn…"

"Oh, well, its, um … not that really. Its just, uh, sort of geeky."

"Well yeah. I’m a geek."

Quinn looked back at Scott in surprise. ‘Geeky’ was THE supreme insult for, oh, as long as she could remember. To call yourself a geek …

"Don’t you mind being called a geek?"

"Why? I’m smart, I’m interested in ‘strange’ academic pursuits, and I like it. Doesn’t that make me a geek?"

"Um, yeah. But … why would you call yourself a geek?"

"Hey, it’s true, and it doesn’t bother me. So why not?"

As the class filtered in around her, Quinn considered Scott’s candid answer. She had learned over her last two years in high school that you could learn without being considered a ‘geek’, that being popular didn’t require being stupid as well. But to intentionally call yourself a geek? It just didn’t make sense to Quinn.

"I guess. Do you know what we’re supposed to do this class?"

"My roommate went through this yesterday. We get a list or something, and we have to go through and check all of our glassware and equipment to make sure we have everything."

"Why?"

"Because if we don’t, we’ll be charged for it at the end of the semester."

"Charged?"

"Yeah. You have to pay for everything you break."

"Oh." Cataloging, Quinn thought. That shouldn’t take too long, should it?

Leaving the building, Quinn looked up at the quickly falling night. "Shouldn’t take too long," she muttered to herself. "Right." As she headed across the quad back towards her dorm, she couldn’t help but wonder why so much was missing from almost everyone’s lab bench. If they checked them at the end of the year, shouldn’t everything be there?

Stopping for a moment, she looked down at her watch. 6:30. I would have been on my first date by now, Quinn thought. I’d be going out for dinner, a movie, maybe a concert. I certainly wouldn’t be still in class. Quinn sighed. But this is all for my own good, right?

Walking in a slow gait, Quinn made her way across the Quad, stopping as the sidewalk reached the street. Turning to her right, she looked for a long moment at the dining hall. 6:30. Pushing through the double doors, Quinn entered the dining hall.

#

Inside a standard double room, Marisa sat on her bed. Reaching out, she ruffled briefly through a small stack of papers amidst the piles that were sprawled over her bed. Using her fingers, she bowed the papers slightly to keep them from drooping backwards on her. She held the paper up momentarily, studying it for a second before throwing it back on her bed.

"Yeah, like I really care about what Socrates would think if he were to spend a semester at our fine alma-mater."

Across the room, Christine, a petite Asian woman, looked up from her computer. "How about ‘why aren’t I dead yet’?"

"Isn’t that what we’re all thinking?"

"No, I don’t particularly want to die." Christine looked up from her computer. "I just wish that our CS professor would, ideally before our next assignment."

Marisa scribbled something quickly in her notebook before responding. "Are you still complaining about that damn assignment?"

"Aren’t you still complaining about yours?"

"Point taken."

Christine stood up, turning off her monitor. "Well, that’s about all I can handle of that for now. You want to catch dinner?"

Setting down her pen, Marisa gazed at her roommate. "No, that’s Ok. I told Quinn I’d wait for her."

#

Moving down the staircase, Quinn entered the cafeteria, the smell of grease permeating the air. They make the best fries here, she thought as the smell registered, making her way into the takeout line.

"Next! Whadda ya want?"

"Um, just an order of fries."

"For here?"

"No. To go."

As the man at the grill reached down to fill Quinn’s order, the student ahead of Quinn looked back at her. "Ever the pleasant grill-side manner…"

Quinn looked up from the grill to see a tall boy smiling at her. He’s kind of cute, she thought momentarily before suppressing her instinctive response. "That’s why I don’t leave a tip."

"Oh, I don’t leave a tip because I’m cheap."

Quinn laughed slightly, ready to respond when the grill man interrupted her train of thought. "Your order’s ready. Here ya go."

Picking up her fries, Quinn slid forward in line, removing a yogurt and a pair of diet cokes from the cooler.

The student from earlier came up behind Quinn, removing a soda. "Yogurt, fries, and diet coke?"

"A girl’s gotta eat, doesn’t she?"

"I suppose," he said, smiling at her.

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"No. But you forgot the mayo." Quinn looked at him, confused. "For your fries."

"Mayo? On fries? Ewww…"

"You should try it," he said, chuckling slightly. "You might even like it. I’m Roger, by the way."

"Roger? Um, hi."

"So, you eat here often?"

"Every day," Quinn responded.

"Would you care to join me for dinner?"

Quinn looked at Roger, an expression of sorrow on her face. "Well, actually I’ve got a lot of work that I need to get done tonight…"

"Say no more," he said, waving his hand. "But in that case, could I interest you in dinner and a movie this Saturday?"

Looking at Roger, Quinn thought for a moment. What was that saying, she thought. All work and no play? Quinn was sure that it was something like that. "Um, sure."

Reaching into his pocket, Roger removed a small piece of paper, leaning over to write on it before handing it over to Quinn. "Here you go, my phone number and my E-mail address. Call me when you have time to consider when and where, Ok?"

"Um, sure," Quinn said as Roger moved up to the checkout line. Aren’t I supposed to give him my number? Handing her ID card to the cashier, she pondered this for a moment. When did things get so complicated, she wondered as the cashier returned her ID card. Making her way to the counter, she placed her food in a bag, pausing a moment before heading back to the dorms.

#

"Quinn! So nice of you to join me."

"Hey Marisa. Sorry I’m late," Quinn replied, entering the room. Looking around the double room, she pulled the chair out from Marisa’s desk, sitting down as she removed her dinner from her backpack. "Where’s your roommate?"

"Christine? She’s out at dinner with her friends." Marisa looked at the bag in Quinn’s hand as the scent of French fries permeated the room. With a slight scowl, she walked over to the small refrigerator sitting next to the door. You wait for someone and what do you get? Removing a can of soda and a small yogurt, she closed the door. "I thought you’d be back earlier…"

"Well, the lab took, like, forever. I think the TA guy was senile or something."

"Anything interesting happen?"

Quinn looked up at Marisa with a smile. "Well, I did get a date for Saturday."

"In chemistry?"

Quinn laughed briefly. "No, I ran into a guy at the dining hall. He seemed nice. He gave me his number."

"So what about Justin?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, come on," Marisa said, cocking her head at Quinn. "You have a crush on him."

"I do not."

"So why do you spend so much time ‘studying’ with him?"

"Well, um," Quinn stammered. "It’s just, um, that I’m not all that great at chemistry, and I needed some help."

"Sure, you’re just concerned about your education."

"I am!"

"And just what was that in the lounge Monday?"

"Marisa!" Quinn shouted. "It was 3AM! I just fell asleep."

"Sure you did. Whatever you say Quinn."

Quinn looked over at Marisa. She knew when she was being teased, and from long experience knew that there was rarely any escape. Sighing, she took her books out of her bag, setting them on the desk. "Sorry to spoil your fun, but I do like, need to study."

"Of course. Just stay over there. You’re nice and all, but I don’t swing that way."

"Marisa …" Quinn said in a dangerous tone.

"Relax Quinn. You’re WAY to gullible."

Quinn opened her textbook, ignoring Marisa’s comment. Let yourself fall asleep just once, she thought, and you’ll never hear the end of it. Scanning her textbook, she began reading the chapter. Production possibility frontier? With a sigh, she took out a notebook and started taking notes.

#

Later that night, Quinn entered her room, dropping her books on her desk. Well, she thought, that finishes tomorrow’s econ assignment. Ick.

Picking up her backpack, she removed a notebook, placing it on a pile on the small bookshelf next to her closet. Reaching down to her bed, she picked up her economics notebook and her chemistry notebook, placing them in her bag. Thinking for a second, Quinn checked her economics notebook, reassuring herself that the homework assignment was indeed inside her backpack.

Zipping her bag, she dropped it on the floor next to her bed. She reached down, picking up a nightshirt from the bed. Just as she pulled it on, the phone rang.

"Hello?" Quinn asked, picking up the phone.

"Quinn? It’s mom."

"Mom? Is something wrong?"

"No dear. Can’t a mother call her daughter just to talk to her?"

"Um, I suppose…"

"So, how’s school? Is everything going Ok?"

"Yeah, sure. I mean, classes are a LOT more annoying here, and they give you all these long obnoxious homework assignments, oh yeah, I mean problem sets, that you have to work on for hours and all, but its really not too bad…"

"Um, that’s great Quinn," Helen said, trying to regain control of the conversation. "How about everything else? Are you all settled in your room?"

"Yes mom," Quinn sighed. "Remember, you and dad wouldn’t leave until everything was just perfect?"

"Well Quinn, you’re our little girl. What do you expect?"

More years of benign neglect? "Was there anything else? I have to get up early for my class tomorrow."

"Um, Ok Quinn," Helen said, vaguely disappointed. "You know, you can call us anytime you want…"

"Yes mom, I know."

"Um, good night Quinn."

"Good night mom."

Hanging up the phone, Quinn shook her head slightly. Helen was one of the last people she would have thought would develop a case of empty nest syndrome. But in a strange way, it did sort of make sense, she supposed. And it’s not like Daria is a big talker either. Sighing, she pulled on a pair of shorts, climbing into bed.

#

Quinn entered the classroom early the next morning, prepared for another morning of lectures. As she reached her row, she stopped, looking in surprise at Amber, sitting in her seat, her face down on the desk.

"Um, Amber?"

Straightening up, Amber looked up at Quinn, blinking her eyes several times in quick succession to clear her sight. "Wha?"

"You’re here early." Quinn paused for a moment, thinking. "You’re never here this early."

Amber glanced down at her watch, taking a second to make out the time. Sighing, she leaned back in her chair. "Any telemarketer who calls college students before 7AM deserves to be shot."

"Telemarketer?"

"Telemarketer," Amber replied bitterly. "I got a call at 6:30 this morning. I answered, worried that something big had happened, since my family and friends know not to call me before 10, on threat of bodily harm." Amber shook her head. "Needless to say, when I heard the phrase ‘I’m calling to offer you the opportunity for a great new credit card’, I was not pleased. "

"What happened?"

"I was rather … rude on the phone."

"Rude?"

"They hung up on me."

"Wow." Quinn thought for a moment. "Why didn’t you go back to sleep?"

Amber sighed. "I just can’t get back to sleep after something like that, at least not well enough to do me any good. So I took a shower, got dressed, and came over here."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Hey, it’s not your fault." Amber shrugged. "And I got a chance to go over my homework assignment."

"Don’t get me started."

"You didn’t finish?"

"No, I finished," Quinn said. Hesitating a moment, she sat down next to Amber. "I just don’t see why he assigns us problems before he covers them in lecture."

"That’s his style, I guess. He wants us to learn before he lectures, so we’ll understand better. It is his first year teaching, after all."

"But none of my other professors do that!"

"Well, just wait until he gets his evaluations."

"Evaluations," Quinn asked.

"Yep. At the end of the year, the students and TA’s get the chance to evaluate the professors. Trust me, he’ll get roasted by everyone."

"Everyone? Why wouldn’t the TA’s like him?"

"Quinn, who do you think ends up teaching the students everything?"

"Um, the textbook?"

Amber looked over at Quinn, laughing briefly. "Freshmen," she said in amusement. "No, most people end up going to office hours. They’re listed on the class syllabus."

"Oh?"

"Yep. They go over the assignment and help people with the assignment. Usually, you’d only see a few people unless there was an exam, but last night, there must have been thirty or forty people. The TA was not impressed."

I’ll bet, Quinn thought. I’m not all that impressed either. Thinking for a moment, Quinn asked Amber a question. "Are office hours really that helpful?"

Amber straightened up in her chair, rubbing her face. "Sometimes, yeah. I mean, the TA’s are usually grad students, who often do a better job at explaining things in a way that us mere mortals can understand."

"Oh." Maybe I should try one, Quinn thought to herself.

As the professor entered the room, Quinn took her notebook from her bag, pulling out the assignment.

"Class? Please pass your assignments to the left now."

Quinn took Amber’s assignment, setting both on the desk at the end of the aisle. Turning to an empty page in her notebook, Quinn took a pen from her pocket, ready to take notes.

#

"Don’t forget class, read chapter seven for next class. The next homework assignment will be handed out Monday, although for those wanting to start earlier, it should be posted on the class web site later tonight."

"Great, more work," Quinn said as she put her books away.

"What, you were expecting something different?"

"Every week, its always more homework."

"Well, in two or three weeks, you’ll get a test instead."

"Wonderful."

Amber stood up slowly, stretching her legs. "Coffee?"

"Um, Ok."

"Good. I need caffeine, and sugar."

"You know," Quinn said, "If you just went to bed earlier, you might be more awake in the morning."

Amber looked at Quinn with a confused stare. "Early? What is this ‘early’ you speak of?"

Quinn laughed. "Come on. First, coffee. Then we’ll find you a nice English dictionary…"

#

Inside the coffee shop, Quinn and Amber sat in a booth against the wall. Quinn took a sip of her coffee, smiling slightly. Mmmm, French Vanilla. Good stuff. Looking over at Amber, Quinn watched for a moment as Amber nursed her coffee.

"Feeling better yet?"

Amber looked up at Quinn, an abashed smile on her face. "Yeah, a little. Have I ever mentioned that I hate mornings?"

"Every Monday and Friday, without fail."

"What about Wednesdays?"

"I wouldn’t know. I haven’t actually seen you in class on Wednesdays."

"Oh, yeah," Amber replied. Pausing a moment, she picked up her cup, taking long sip. "I guess I’d just rather get my sleep in my bed than in class. It’s quieter there."

"Like I said, you could just go to bed early."

"Early? What is this early?"

Smiling, Quinn took another sip of her coffee, shaking her head.

#

Quinn left her economics session later that morning, concluded after fifty minutes of near-frantic lecturing by the TA . Stopping for a moment, she looked around, spending a minute or two watching a group of students playing Frisbee on the soft grass. If college is about learning, she thought, why are such simple activities like a game of Frisbee so popular?

As she moved on, heading across the quad, she ducked suddenly to avoid an errant Frisbee. Reaching down, she picked up the yellow disc.

"A little help please?"

Looking over at the student, she smiled at him. "Sure," she said, awkwardly flicking the Frisbee over to him.

"Thanks," he said, picking up the Frisbee. As he left, he surreptitiously gave Quinn a once over with his eyes. Most people probably wouldn’t have noticed, but Quinn was better attuned to noticing and analyzing such actions than most. Walking slowly, she hazarded a glance at the group.

Quinn scowled slightly. She was used to attention, used to people staring at her, paying attention to her. But, well, things seemed, somehow different here. They weren’t staring at her to admire her beauty. There was something more, a fact that Quinn wasn’t entirely comfortable with. They look at me as an object, she thought, as if they expect something from me. She shook her head. The guys checking her out were bad enough, but once in a while, she noticed the same look from another girl as well. The price of being attractive, she thought.

Just as Quinn reached the steps, she stopped abruptly. "I wonder if this is how all those guys in high school felt," she said in a moment of realization. Forcing down her concern temporarily, Quinn collected herself and entered the dining hall.

#

Inside the dining hall, Justin stood in the checkout line when someone tapped him on his shoulder. Turning carefully to avoid dumping his lunch, he came face to face with Victor, his roommate.

"Oh, hey. Didn’t expect to see you here."

Victor shrugged. "I thought I’d grab lunch to go before my bio lecture."

Justin smiled at him. "You know Victor, normal people don’t schedule classes during lunch."

"Normal people don’t get into medical school."

"Good point."

"Um, do you have any plans for this weekend?"

Looking at him in slight confusion, Justin tried to figure out what was going on. "Not really, no."

"Well, Lisa is coming up this weekend, and, well …"

"Lisa? Do I know a Lisa?"

Victor looked slightly annoyed. "Lisa, my girlfriend?"

"Oh." Justin thought for a moment before understanding exactly what Victor was asking. "Oh, I see. Um, yeah, I need to, um, study. Big chem problem set. Lots of work."

Victor’s face softened, showing genuine appreciation. "Um, thanks." As they moved up in line, he smiled. "Maybe you could even get to know Quinn better…"

"Don’t I wish".

#

Across the room, Quinn moved up in line, finally reaching the cashier.

"Salad, breadsticks, and juice. Anything else?"

"Nope. On meal plan," Quinn said, handing her ID card over to the cashier.

"Yep," he replied, swiping her card through the machine. Watching for a moment, he checked to make sure that the card cleared the computer. "Ok," he said, returning the card to Quinn. "Next?"

Quinn picked up her tray, searching for a table. Just as she was about to sit down at an empty table, she noticed a familiar face at the far end of the cafeteria. Making her way through the crowded room, she tapped him on the shoulder, startling him.

He looked up in surprise, staring at her for a moment. "Quinn?"

"Hi Justin. Is there room for me?"

"Of course Quinn, pull up a seat."

Quinn sat down, pushing her bag off into the corner. As she did, she missed the look of pleasant surprise that flashed across Justin’s face. "I didn’t expect to find you here," she said, taking a bite of her salad.

"Well, I was hungry, and this seemed like the best option."

Quinn looked up, staring blankly at Justin.

"Oh, Ok, it was an option."

"Better." Quinn laughed slightly. "Call me old-fashioned, but salad should not be shrink-wrapped."

"True, true. But it’s still better than the burgers."

"What’s wrong with them?"

"Well," Justin began, "I had some friends in high school who were really into the ultimate fast food restaurant. Some claimed that frying was the only way to make a burger, others that flame broiling was the way to go."

Justin paused a moment, taking a bite of his sandwich. "They all agreed, however, that hamburgers should not be poached."

Quinn smiled, taking another bite of her salad as she thought. "Did you ever think that, like, maybe they LIKE the food bad? To, like, give us something to complain about?"

"Nah," Justin said. "I just think they’re cheap."

"Oh." Hesitating a moment, Quinn looked up at Justin. "You know, it’s a really nice day outside."

"I know," Justin replied, finishing his meal. "Almost makes you forget that you’re still in school."

"And then, out of nowhere, chemistry lecture."

"Are you saying that you don’t like chemistry lectures," Justin teased.

Crap, Quinn thought. Now how do I get out of this one? She shook her head, thinking a moment. "It’s, um, Ok, I guess. He just goes so fast. I mean, if it wasn’t for your help, I’d be failing already."

"You don’t give yourself enough credit Quinn," Justin said, patting her gently on the arm. "Your better at this stuff than you think."

"Um, thanks?"

"Just don’t be too intimidated by the professor. He’s not moving all that fast … "

"Justin? Is there anything that we’ve covered that you didn’t already know?"

"Um, no?"

"Then you’re probably not the best person to be deciding what ‘too fast’ is."

"Touché Quinn."

Quinn smiled, finishing up her salad. As much as she complained, she was actually beginning to catch on in chemistry, a fact that she attributed more to Justin than her professor.

"Hey, how about we go get away from all this hustle," Justin said, gesturing at the crowd. "Just you, me, and the rest of the chemistry class, in a little dark room across campus. What do you say?"

It was all Quinn could do to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all. "Now how could I turn down such a romantic offer," Quinn managed.

Justin looked at Quinn uncertainly. Turnabout is fair play, Quinn thought. Or was that foreplay, she wondered in the deep recesses of her mind as the two headed off for class.

#

Back in her room, Quinn sat at her desk, checking her E-mail. "Nothing," she said, as she minimized her E-mail program, launching a web browser. As she checked the weather forecast, a thought nagged at her. I’m supposed to do something. After a moment of contemplation, she rummaged through her bag briefly, extracting a slip of paper. Picking up the phone, she dialed.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Roger? It’s Quinn."

"Oh," he said, excited. "Hi Quinn. How are you?"

"Much better, now that the weekend is here. How about you?"

"Great, since you called."

"Flatterer."

"You want me to stop?"

"Not on your life!"

Roger chuckled. "You’re certainly an interesting one Quinn."

"Um, Ok …" Quinn hesitated for a moment before speaking. "So, about Saturday, um …"

"Do you like Fridays?"

"Fridays? Um, I guess they’re one of the better days of the week."

"No, no," Roger said in amusement. "Not the day, the restaurant."

On the other end of the phone, Quinn sank back into her chair, glad that Roger was unable to see her embarrassment. Closing her eyes for a minute, she scowled at the wall. "Yeah, Fridays would be Ok," she admitted sheepishly.

"Ok," Roger said, "if we get there at 5:30, we should be able to catch the 7 o’clock movie runs. Does that work for you?"

"Um, yeah. What movie?"

"I thought we’d see when we got there. Unless there’s something you’d particularly like to see, that is."

"No, I don’t think so. Do you want to drop by my room at quarter after?"

"Only if you tell me where it is first."

"High rise, room 6533."

"Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then."

As Roger hung up the phone, Quinn remained seated, staring at the receiver. For Quinn, dating had always followed the same pattern. The boys offered dates, called her, and generally did their best to plan everything to give Quinn the perfect night. Or at least what they thought the perfect night should be, but without the sex.

Roger, however, was different. He was much more laid back than anyone Quinn had ever dated. He wasn’t putting her on a pedestal, but rather talking to her as if she were, well, a person. This did not bother Quinn by any means, but it was just so different than anything Quinn was used to, she wasn’t certain what to do. This was a feeling that seemed all too familiar to Quinn as of late.

A knock at the door disturbed Quinn’s introspection, causing her to hang up the phone in surprise. "Come in!"

At Quinn’s invitation, Marisa opened her door, entering the room. "Hey Quinn, you busy?"

"Not really," Quinn said.

"Well, a bunch of us were going to head out to a party tonight. You interested?"

"Sure," Quinn replied. "Which frat?"

"Um," Marissa said, uncertain, "They haven’t, uh, figured that out yet."

Quinn looked at Marisa uncertainly. "So … how do we find the party?"

"I think they’re just going to wander around until they find something."

"Just how many is they," Quinn asked suspiciously.

"Um, maybe fifteen?"

Well, at least I won’t look like an idiot alone, Quinn thought. "Drop by before you head out?"

"Sure thing Quinn. See you then."

#

Later that night, a group of students assembled outside the building, talking to each other under the pale yellow glow of the sodium streetlight. The building door opened as Quinn and Marisa exited, joining up with the group. Turning to Marisa, Quinn asked a question. "Do you know any of these people?"

"A few," Marisa said, looking over the crowd. "They’re just, well, people I have classes with and stuff."

"Are we, like, waiting for something?"

"I don’t know … I’m sure we’ll head out soon."

"Hey, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Mary," said a girl, coming up to the two.

"Um, I’m Marisa."

"Quinn." Quinn looked around for an instant. "Do you know where we’re going?"

The girl cocked her head slightly, thinking. "I think we were going to try Alpha Beta first."

"Alpha Beta?"

"Down on East Street."

"Is that the one with the statue in the front lawn," Marisa asked.

"That’s the one." Mary glanced back at the crowd. "Well, I think we’re heading out."

"How can you tell?"

Mary gestured at the crowd. "They’re actually moving. That’s not something to let go to waste."

Mary headed back into the crowd, speaking briefly with a few people before making her way to the head of the crowd, leading them on their way.

#

Inside the Alpha-Beta frat house, Quinn and Marisa stood at the edge of the room. Smoke from cigarettes, cigars, and a variety of more interesting substances mingled in the stuffy air, fighting a pitched battle with the odor of stale beer permeating the whole house.

Against the wall near Quinn and Marisa, a male student set down his beer, turning to his friend. "So how did you like the game last night?"

"Oh, the game was great. I think Angie’s mad at me though."

"Why?"

"Well, she kept coming in and wanting to, like, talk about our relationship and where it was going."

"During the game?"

"Yeah, can you believe it? Then she asked if the game was more important to me than she was."

"Oh, man, that’s a low blow."

"Tell me about it." He thought for an inebriated moment. "I don’t think ‘yes’ was the answer she was looking for."

Quinn and Marisa looked at the two students in disgust, and then back at each other as the loud music from the over-driven speakers switched to a new song. As they shook their heads, a lone student approached the two. "You’re from the high rise, right?"

Quinn and Marisa looked at the newcomer for a moment. "Yeah," Quinn responded.

"I’m Jessica. So, what do you think of the party?"

Quinn thought a moment before saying anything. "It, um, it’s very …"

"It sucks," Marisa interjected.

Quinn turned to Marisa, concerned, but before she could say anything Jessica’s laughter interrupted her train of thought. "Yeah, it does suck," Jessica observed. "But the beer’s free, and they aren’t particularly interested in checking ID’s."

"But it, like, smells. And the music is WAY to loud to dance to."

"Hey, it’s Alpha-Beta."

Noticing someone in the crowd, the girl headed across the room, leaving Quinn and Marisa alone again. Sighing, Quinn looked to Marisa, half-shouting to make herself heard over the music. "It does suck, doesn’t it?"

"Yeah."

"You want to look for someplace else?"

"Someplace else? Sure," Marisa shouted. "Should we tell the others?"

"Do you know where they are? Could you find them here?"

"No."

" Then I wouldn’t worry about it."

Making her way through the crowd, Quinn pushed her way to the door, stepping outside onto the front lawn. Marisa followed, coming up to Quinn as she took a deep breath. "Ick, it’s going to be, like, impossible to get the smell out of these clothes," Quinn mused.

"Just wash them, and it should be fine."

"Really?"

"Beats me."

"Gee, thanks."

"Anytime. Unless I’m asleep. Or in the shower. Or with a really cute guy. Or in the shower with a really cute guy…."

Quinn shook her head. "Why am I friends with you?"

"Because I’m friendly, I’m nice, and gosh darn it, people like me."

Quinn laughed, in spite of herself. "Come on. There’s GOT to be a better party somewhere around here…"

#

Heading down a side road away from Alpha Beta, Quinn and Marisa were walking when the streetlight abruptly went out. I really wish they’d stop doing that, Quinn thought, continuing on her way.

"That’s kind of creepy," Marisa said.

"Actually," Quinn said, "I screamed the first time it happened."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But the thing like, came back on a few seconds later. I wasn’t sure if I should be scared or embarrassed."

"I just never really liked walking in the dark. My brother loved to tell creepy stories to frighten me." Marisa said, looking around in the dark. "So, of course, he’d hide later that night and jump out on me."

"That’s terrible."

"Yeah, but what could I do? He was bigger than me, and had enough … did you hear that?"

"What?"

"It was … there it is again!"

Listening carefully, Quinn was about to dismiss Marisa as merely paranoid when she heard a rustling in the bushes behind her. Turning slowly, she stared at the bushes for a moment as her heart raced. Suddenly, a loud noise startled her, causing her to take a step backwards.

"Some shortcut," a male voice said, as he emerged from the bushes.

"Hey, its not my fault that you got lost," a female voice answered.

As Quinn watched, her fright replaced by curiosity, someone emerged from the bushes, only to be blinded momentarily as the streetlight came back on.

Marisa walked in front of Quinn, staring at the new arrival. "Dave?"

"Huh," he said, looking around in surprise. Noticing the two girls, he studied them for a moment. "Um, Marisa? And Quinn?"

"Hi Dave," Marisa replied as Quinn looked at him curiously. As the three stood there, Amber emerged from the bushes, brushing herself off.

"Quinn? Marisa? What are you doing here?"

"Well," Quinn said, "a bunch of people from our dorm decided to go look for a party tonight, and we ended up at, uh …"

"Alpha-Beta," Marisa offered.

"Yeah, Alpha-Beta."

"Oh gee, I’m sorry," Dave offered. "They’re, well, let’s just say that it’s a good thing that alcohol doubles as a disinfectant."

"Too bad it doesn’t do something about the smell," Quinn said.

"Oh, it does," Amber said. "It just doesn’t improve it."

Quinn smiled. "So what were you two doing in the bushes?" Thinking for a moment, Quinn shot Amber a sly smile. "Anything interesting?"

Amber looked at Dave for a moment, laughing slightly. "As if. No, we were heading to a party when Dave here decided to cut through that path. Of course, just as we started, the damn lights cut out on us."

"Does anyone know why they do that," Marisa asked.

Dave shrugged. "Well, the design of illumination systems is a complicated balance, and given the heat output of a conventional sodium lamp…"

"He doesn’t know," Amber interrupted.

"So, um, where were you two going?" Quinn asked.

"Oh, they’ve got something going on over at Tau Kappa Epsilon. They usually throw a decent party. Keep out the rabble, so to speak."

"So how do we get in then," Dave asked.

"I’ll just use my natural charm," Amber said.

"We’re doomed," Dave replied sarcastically.

"Go to hell Dave," Amber said, heading down the street. Exchanging a look, Dave, Marisa, and Quinn smiled slightly as they turned to follow Amber.

#

Amber, Dave, Marisa, and Quinn walked through the white fence, taking their place in the line of students waiting to enter. As they waited, Amber looked around, smiling.

"I just love the night! It’s so beautiful out!" She turned to the other three. "You can keep your mornings, thank you very much."

Quinn turned to Dave. "Is she OK?"

"Her? Sure. She’s just a night person."

"So I’ve noticed."

As Quinn and Dave continued their discussion, they reached the front of the line. As the people ahead of them entered the house, the brother at the door turned his attention to Quinn.

"ID please," he asked.

As Amber and Dave exchanged a worried look, Quinn acted without thinking, removing her wallet and handing over her student ID. The bouncer at the door examined it for a second before waving her in. "Nice picture."

"Um, thanks," Quinn said, entering the house.

Inside the house was a much different scene than earlier. People were gathered, talking and drinking all along the main hallway as music filtered in from the adjoining room. Quinn moved down the hall a little, peering into the room from whence the music arose.

Quinn watched for a moment, looking into the darkened room at the people dancing. As someone started a strobe light, Quinn stood, entranced by the dancing students, frozen in time by the strobe. As she watched, Dave came up silently behind her.

"Hey Quinn"

"Aah," she shouted, turning with a start. "Don’t do that!"

"Aw, you’re no fun," he said as Amber and Marisa joined the two.

"Nicely done Quinn," Amber said. "How did you know that they’d take a student ID?"

Quinn looked at Amber sheepishly. "Um, I didn’t." Watching their confused faces, she explained. "Every time you need to do something around here, they, like, need your ID card. So when I heard him, I just, um, gave it to him…"

"Well, whatever it was, it worked."

"Yeah, and its much better than Alpha-Beta," Marisa said, looking over Quinn’s shoulder into the room. "Cool, dancing! Let’s go!"

Quinn and Amber started to follow Marisa, leaving Dave standing at the doorway. Marisa noticed this, walking back to him. "Come on Dave!"

"No, you go ahead."

Marisa gave him a stern look as she tried to fight back a laugh. "Come on, it’ll be fun!"

"No it won’t. I can’t dance."

"Sure you can. If I can, anyone can. Come on," she said, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him behind her into the room.

On the dance floor, the four made their way towards the center of the floor. Quinn and Amber began to dance enthusiastically, scanning the crowd as they did so. At the same time, Marisa was dancing with Dave, poking him occasionally to keep him moving.

Quinn danced in the dark for a while, feeling herself relax and simply move with the beat. After a few minutes, she watched as a well-dressed man made his way over to her. Watching her for a second, he began to match her movements, the harmony to Quinn’s melody.

Picking up on this, Quinn returned the favor, matching his moves while keeping a safe distance. As the song came to an end, a smiling Quinn turned, straining to listen.

"What? I can’t hear you!"

"Can I buy you a drink," he asked again, in a louder voice.

"Um, sure."

Quinn’s newfound dance partner led the way as they made their way off the dance floor. Quinn was having fun, although she was a bit nervous as well. Quinn was no stranger to parties, but she had never been a big drinker. Quinn, like her mother, was a bit of a control freak, and rarely had enough alcohol to affect her.

But Quinn also wanted to fit in, and it WAS a frat party, after all. One drink can’t hurt anything, she thought as they approached the bar.

"Well, now that you can actually hear me, I’m Brian."

"I’m Quinn. You dance pretty well, for a guy."

"Yeah, well, you’ve gotta let loose sometimes. What’s the point of it all if you can’t have a little fun now and then? Hey," he said, gesturing at the bar, "what can I get you?"

"I don’t know. Something sweet?"

"I know just the thing. I’ll be right back."

As Brian got the bartender’s attention, Quinn looked around again. All about the room, people were spread about, talking, drinking, and generally just having a good time. A couple here, a small group there, in the corner, a game of darts.

"Here you go, give this a try," Brian said, returning from the bar.

Quinn took the glass from Brian, taking a small sip. "Wow, this is pretty good."

"Fuzzy Navel."

"What?" Quinn looked down at her stomach, realizing that her shirt was draped over her pants, covering her entire stomach.

"The drink. It’s a fuzzy navel."

"It’s very … peachy," Quinn said, taking another sip.

"That would be the point, yes."

Quinn looked at him for a moment as she took another drink from her glass. Looking in his hand, she saw a glass filled with a dark, nearly opaque liquid. "What’s that," she asked.

Brian looked down at his glass. "That is the singular best beer at this party, Guinness," he said proudly.

Quinn smiled, despite the fact that she was not a beer connoisseur, and probably wouldn’t have known that Guinness was a beer had he not mentioned it first.

At the far end of the bar, Dave got the attention of the bartender, handing over a ten-dollar bill and taking two glasses. Moving away from the bar, he handed one of the glasses to Marisa, who accepted happily.

"Don’t tell me that you’re tired of dancing already," she teased.

"I just thought I’d give somebody else a chance to make a fool of themselves for a while."

"You worry too much. Between the darkness, music, and the number of people, it’d be a miracle if people even recognized you. Just relax and have fun."

Dave took a drink from his glass, smiling at Marisa. "There’s more than one way to have fun you know."

Marisa looked down the bar, noticing Quinn flirting with some guy. She looked back at Dave. "So I’ve heard."

#

The next morning, Quinn awoke on top of her bed, still dressed in her clothes from the night before. Standing up, Quinn rubbed her eyes, looking around for a moment. Thank God its Saturday, she thought as she gathered her things, getting ready for a shower. Reaching under her bed, she pulled out a bottle of water, taking a drink to alleviate the dry taste in her mouth.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Quinn stared at the wall for a moment. Remembering the night before, Quinn couldn’t help but realize how different some things were. There were no parents, no one to question you if you got in at 3AM, smelling of smoke and alcohol. She shook her head.

Quinn wasn’t even comfortable with kissing on a first date, much less ‘stopping off for a nightcap’, as Brian had suggested. Thankfully, he wasn’t too disappointed at Quinn’s refusal, but Quinn decided that she would have to be more careful in the future. The stakes were just too high.

Picking up her towel, robe, and toiletries kit, Quinn opened her door. As she headed down the hallway, a creak emanated from behind her. Turning in curiosity, she watched as the door to Marisa’s room opened slowly, and Dave emerged. Stifling an astonished giggle, she slipped around the corner and into the bathroom before he could see her.

Marisa, Quinn thought as she walked over to the shower, you have some explaining to do.

#

Later that morning, Quinn and Marisa sat at a table in the dining hall. Quinn picked up her toasted bagel, covered in low-fat cream cheese. She stared at it for a moment before taking a bite. Swallowing, she looked over at Marisa.

"Hey, I didn’t catch up with you after the party. Did you have a good time?"

"Um, yeah. It was … fun," Marisa replied uncertainly.

"I hope your roommate didn’t wake you early again," Quinn said innocently.

"She’s, um, out of town for the weekend."

"So, what did you do? I saw you on the dance floor with Dave, but, well, I kind of lost track of you after that…"

"Well," Marisa said, somewhat nervous, "I danced for a while, had a few drinks…"

"And then?"

Marisa looked up from her cereal, her eyes searching Quinn’s face for some clue. Does she know something, Marisa thought with no small amount of concern. Even as she fought it, a wave of worry washed over her.

Thankfully, Quinn let her off the hook. "I saw Dave leave your room this morning," she admitted.

"Oh." Marisa looked worried, turning her gaze down upon the table. "Um …"

"Don’t worry Marisa, it’s Ok." Quinn smiled at her friend.

"You don’t think that I’m, um, a slut?"

Quinn laughed. "Marisa, in high school, my friends used men like they were Kleenex." Not that I was any better, she thought sourly. "It’ll take a lot more than this to make me think that."

"Um, thanks."

Looking at Marisa, Quinn continued. "So, um, what happened?"

"Well," Marisa began nervously, "after we had danced for a while, we got a few beers and talked for a while. He’s really pretty interesting, once you get to know him."

"And?"

"Well, we talked, danced some more, and he offered to walk me home. Well, one thing led to another…"

"There’s got to be more to it than that," Quinn interrupted.

Marisa smiled slyly at Quinn. "Yes, there is."

Shaking her head, Quinn teased Marisa. "At least tell me if he was any good."

"Quinn!"

Payback, Quinn thought, laughing at Marisa’s indignation. "Is that a no?"

#

Later that afternoon, Quinn entered the lounge, followed closely by Justin. As Quinn set down her notebook and took out a pencil, Justin pulled out a sheet of paper from inside his chemistry text, setting it down on the table.

"I can’t believe that you printed out the homework already," Quinn said, sitting down next to Justin.

"Well Quinn, it’s gotta get done sometime."

"Justin, it’s Saturday."

Justin shrugged. "It’s not like I’m forcing you to work on it."

"Well, it’s just, um, easier to work on it with you. You actually, um, know what you’re doing…"

Justin smiled at Quinn. "I am most honored, m’lady," he said in a chuckle.

"Of course, it’ll take you what, twenty minutes to finish?"

"With or without you?"

Quinn looked over at Justin in surprise. "Hey!"

"Oh, relax Quinn. It was a joke."

"Whatever." Quinn looked at Justin, thinking for a minute. "I don’t slow you down too much, do I?" And would you tell me if I did?

Looking at her reassuringly, Justin answered. "Don’t worry Quinn. You do slow me down some, but trying to explain it to you actually makes me go back and think about it." He shrugged. "And if I know it well enough to explain it to someone, then I guess that means I really know it, right?"

Quinn forced her face into a slight scowl. "So I’m just a study aid?"

"Damn right," Justin said flippantly. "Admittedly, a rather cute one," he added with a smile.

Blushing, Quinn opened her book, reading as a small smile spread across her face.

#

Twelve problems complete. Not a bad start at all, Quinn thought as she looked up at the lounge clock. 4:30. "Um, I’ve got to, uh, get going…"

"Ok," Justin replied, looking up at the clock. "Isn’t it a bit early for dinner?"

"Um, yeah. I’ve, uh … got a date," Quinn said, almost apologetically.

"Oh." Justin paused for a moment. "Cool. Have a good time."

Quinn looked at him briefly, slightly confused. "Um, thanks," she said, heading back to her room, leaving Justin alone in the lounge.

Justin looked up at the clock, shaking his head. "I was done two hours ago," he said softly.

#

Quinn opened her closet, trying to choose an outfit for her date. Why did I think he would react differently, she wondered to herself as she removed a dark blue blouse. Holding it up in front of her mirror, she looked for a second before setting it back in her closet.

"Not that," she said to herself. "With these jeans, I’d look like a walking bruise. And that look is like sooo last year," she mused, rummaging through her closet. After a brief search, she found a suitable combination, a gentle teal t-shirt to go with her jeans. Laying it on her bed, she headed off for the shower.

#

Returning from her quick shower, Quinn began to get dressed. Pulling on her clothes, she checked herself in the mirror as she ran a brush through her short hair. Just about right for a first date, she thought to herself. Not too much, and not too little. Thinking for a second, she opened her top drawer, remembering a particularly unpleasant conversation with her mother.

"Quinn, could I talk to you for a second," Helen had said.

"Um, sure," a nervous Quinn replied, uncertain about what she had done wrong.

"Now Quinn, with you, um, going away to college and all, and knowing how you like to date, I just wanted to talk about … protection."

She had been aghast. "Mo-om! You’re not going to talk about sex again, are you?"

Helen looked somewhat embarrassed. "Um, no Quinn. I just wanted to, um, here," she said, handing a small box over to Quinn.

Back in the room, Quinn looked down into her drawer, picking up a small canister of Mace. Protection indeed, she thought. Quinn had attributed it to Helen’s overactive imagination, an overreaction, albeit a harmless one. Maybe, she thought, going over the past few days, maybe she had a point…

A knock at the door startled Quinn. Dropping the canister into her pocket, she walked over to the door. Peeking through the peephole, she saw Roger standing, waiting politely. Smiling, Quinn opened the door. "You’re early."

"Yeah, sorry," he said. Raising his right hand from behind his back, he handed Quinn a single red rose. "For you, Quinn."

"Oh thanks Roger," Quinn said, taking the flower from him and smelling it for a moment. "That’s SO nice of you!" Setting the flower on her desk, she grabbed her wallet and keys before heading out the door.

#

Inside the restaurant, Quinn and Roger were seated in a booth, enjoying their meals. Looking up from her salad as a waitress walked by, Quinn scanned the walls. "What’s with all the stuff on the walls?"

"It’s to provide atmosphere. Make the dining experience more fun and all."

"Oh," Quinn said, looking around.

"So, um, do you have a major yet?"

"Everyone keeps asking that," Quinn replied, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Hey, sorry. I was just curious," he offered. "Would you prefer if I talked about the weather instead?"

Quinn turned to him, looking a little guilty. "Sorry. No, I don’t have a major. Do you?"

"I’m still working on it, although I think I’ll go for biochemistry. Or possibly genetics."

"Why?"

"Well, I kind of like it, and I’m not too bad at it. Plus, I can go into Pharmaceutical research."

"Huh?"

Roger smiled across the table. "I get to be a drug dealer."

"Oh." Quinn thought about this for a second.

"So what are you interested in?"

"Me," Quinn asked. "Um, I’m not sure. I guess economics is kind of interesting, but, um, I don’t like the professor very much."

"Fair enough."

"I don’t know, it’s just, um, kind of interesting here. It’s like, so much different than high school."

"Working without a net."

"Huh? I don’t get it."

Roger smiled at her. "Well, there are no parents around, no one to enforce anything."

Quinn returned the smile. "Yeah, I know what you mean. My parents would, like, freak if they knew about the frat parties."

"Tell me about it. My parents are a bit … strict. They don’t want me to have women in my room."

"What?"

Roger sighed. "My mother doesn’t think that it’s appropriate for me to have women in my room. She has this crazy notion that if women end up in my room, I’d end up having sex."

Quinn thought about this, not quite sure what to say. Bracing herself, she asked. "Um, would you?"

"Naw, I’m not that lucky."

Quinn wasn’t sure if that was a good answer or not. "So, do you listen to them? Your parents, I mean?"

"Nope. I got caller ID."

Quinn laughed a little, relaxing and talking with Roger as they both finished their meals. Surprisingly, she was having a pretty good time. The restaurant wasn’t ritzy, and compared to Quinn’s extensive dating experience, Roger was spending far less than anyone in Lawndale would have dared. But despite all that, Quinn found she was genuinely enjoying herself, for reasons she couldn’t quite understand.

#

After dinner, Quinn and Roger entered the movie theatre, making their way through a crowd of students to stand in front of the ticket window.

"So, anything you’re interested in seeing?"

Quinn looked up above the ticket window, scanning over the movie titles. "Is there anything you wanted to see," she asked, turning back to face him.

Roger looked up for a moment. "Hmmm… Have you seen ‘Crouching Groucho, Hidden Punchline’?"

"No." Quinn thought for a moment. "What’s it about?"

Roger shrugged. "You know, I don’t know. My friends seemed to like it though, but they ‘didn’t want to spoil it’ for me, or something."

"Oh. I guess that would be fine."

Roger looked up again. "There doesn’t seem to be much else on, at least not much that I’d want to see." Roger looked down, to Quinn. "Funny, but I seem to remember movies being better when I was younger."

Quinn thought for a second, remembering her high school experiences. How many of those movies did I remember, she wondered silently? While Quinn had been on more dates than most of her classmates could count, try as she may, she just couldn’t remember many details at all. She remembered taking notes, evaluating her suitors with a single-minded objectiveness that would make the IRS jealous. She could remember the cars they drove, how much should be spent on a ‘good’ date, even the appropriate phone etiquette for asking her out, but for the life of her she couldn’t actually remember what she had done.

"Quinn?"

Quinn shook her head. "Sorry."

"So, any thoughts about the movie?"

"Um, the Crouching one sounds Ok."

"Cool. I’ll get tickets."

As Roger moved into the short line, Quinn watched in silence. Would I have even given him a chance in high school, she thought guiltily? Sure. I would have evaluated him against my other prospective dates to ensure the best possible experience for me.

Roger came up quietly next to Quinn. "Shall we enter?"

"Um, sure."

"After you," Roger said, walking just behind Quinn past the ticket counter and into the theatre.

#

Outside Quinn’s dorm, Quinn and Roger stood just off the path, outside of the direct light. Roger took Quinn’s hand gently, looking into her eyes. "I, um, had a nice time tonight."

"Yeah, it was fun," Quinn said, thinking about the night. Please don’t ask for more, Quinn thought.

"So, would you want to do it again sometime?"

Quinn smiled at him. "Roger, are you asking me for another date?"

"Maybe. Are you saying yes?"

"Maybe. I couldn’t say yes unless you asked, though."

"So, if I were to ask, would you say yes?"

Quinn cocked her head at Roger. "Maybe."

Roger laughed briefly before lifting her hand to give it a gentle kiss. "Good night Quinn."

"Good night."

Quinn watched for a moment as Roger headed off towards his own dorm. I don’t deserve him, she thought before turning and entering her dorm. She slowly made her way to the top of the staircase. Quinn was about to head back to her room when something caught the corner of her eye. Moving cautiously to the lounge, Quinn peeked in to see Justin sitting on the couch, reading a book.

"Justin?"

Justin looked up at Quinn, placing his book on the table. "Oh, hey Quinn."

"Hi."

"So, how’d the big date go?"

"Oh, um, pretty well. The movie wasn’t bad, even if the ending was pretty weird."

"Well, that’s good I guess."

"Yeah." Quinn looked around the lounge. "Did you, like, get tired of your room?"

"Naw," Justin replied. "Victor’s girlfriend from high school is up for the weekend."

"Girlfriend?"

"Yep. They’re doing the whole long distance thing. The least I could do was give them a little time alone."

"But what if they…"

Justin waved his hand, looking straight at Quinn. "Don’t say that. He’s my roommate. I don’t want to think about that. Please."

"Um, Ok. Sorry."

Quinn and Justin stood for an awkward moment before Quinn spoke up. "I should probably get back to my room," she said.

"Oh. Ok," Justin replied. "If you get the urge to do any work tonight, feel free to come up and join me."

"Um, Ok," Quinn said, turning to head back to her room. Walking around the corner, Quinn missed Justin, gazing at the doorway Quinn had been standing in, a slight hint of sorrow on his face.

Entering her room, Quinn picked up the rose from the desk, taking a seat on her bed. Smelling the rose, Quinn laid back on her bed, thinking. Quinn had been told that college was a clean slate, a chance to start again. No one would know Quinn, the ultra-popular fashion-obsessed dating machine. Nor would they know Quinn, friend of Sandi, the elitist snob.

No, they would only know the Quinn that she showed them, the Quinn she felt she should be. So why was it, she wondered, that she now had a major crush on one boy and was dating another?

Sighing, she sat up. Suddenly, Daria and Tom’s checkered relationship made a lot more sense to her. You do something, anything, for long enough, and it becomes a part of you. Comfortable, safe. Change is hard, she thought, standing up and placing the rose back on the desk, getting ready for bed.

#

The next morning, Quinn and Marisa were sitting a table, working on their breakfast. Quinn lifted a bagel, taking a bite as Marisa looked over at her. "So, did you have fun last night?"

"Not as much fun as you did with Dave."

"Hey now!"

Quinn shrugged. "It went pretty well. He seems to be, like a pretty nice guy."

"I see," Marisa said slyly. "And how did Justin take it?"

"What?"

"You did tell him, didn’t you?"

"Um, yes."

"Well, what did he say?"

"Uh, he wished me good luck?"

Marisa smiled at Quinn. "You don’t sound too happy about that."

"Well, um …" Quinn stammered uncertainly.

Smirking, Marisa shook her head at an uncomfortable Quinn. Ain’t payback grand?