“Oh for the love of...” I growled.I got out of bed and pulled my polo on, while Laura grabbed a pillow and held it to cover her. I opened the door...“Do you mind?” I asked, thoroughly annoyed.“Dean Anderson is on 7 and talking to the RAs.”“That can’t be good.”“Rumor is that the girl was in bed with someone. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I thought I’d warn you in case she came up to 8.”“Thanks.”“Sorry,” Clarissa smirked.“Get out of here!” I replied, half growling, half mirthfully.I shut the. She fumbles in her pocket for the crumpled pack of cigarettes. The scratch of the match striking against the sandpapery face of the battered matchbox seems irrepressibly loud. A cricket’s mating call from somewhere in the bushes grates against her ear, insistent – lonely. She is so very lonely. The glowing red light of the cigarette seems to act as a tiny, blinking beacon in the sea of darkness. She takes in a drag of the cigarette and puffs out cloudy white smoke. She sighs to herself,. More

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