Mud. Chapter 2
It had only been a short trip to my dorm to nab my beloved Nikon camera that I'd saved so long for; I'd ignored everyone that had dared try and interrupt me on my way to capture the newest dirt on this boy. I'd seen him enter the campus coffee shop and prayed he'd still be there as I left; what luck! He was! I could spy his red head standing there and I took a seat on a bench, bringing up my camera to my eye and looking through the viewfinder. I twisted the lens to the right, zooming in more and more until I could see him fully in the picture; I snapped a side profile once I could, the shutter clicking closed and making an electronic noise to signify that I'd captured a photograph. I felt a cold shudder run down my spine as, even without the camera, I could tell he'd turned around and was staring straight at me. 'Dear God! Quick! Cover yourself!' I thought frantically, giving an innocent wave and bringing up my camera again, taking a picture of a pigeon sitting on top of the store. He gave it a look of skepticism then got up, my eyes closing in relief.
There was a reason I was the most popular blog here. I worked hard and I was innovative; a new student was daring material to cover but I took the challenge hungrily-I know Jennifer would be on her faster than a fly on shit-not that this boy was shit, of course (If he was, I had a serious scat fetish). The bitch had made a blog less than two months after mine, with the audacity to call it Dirt. Wow. She couldn't even be subtle about stealing the general design of the blog or the color scheme; still, though, I couldn't blame her. The secrets of a new kid were irresistible to readers-whether he was an alleged serial killer or not. I got up soon after he did and began following again, watching as he proceeded closer to the attendance building. It was about time; the boy needed to get his dorm keys and everything. Perfect opportunity for me. I followed stealthily, letting him enter and get everything first. I absentmindedly fiddled with the vending machine in the hallway, acting like I wanted to get something until he left. That's when I brandished my press pass, turning to the woman at the counter. I grimaced as the pudgy old woman spat her gum into a trash can, wiping saliva off her lips with a doughy hand.
"Um, yeah. I'm with the school press, and I need a copy of all of the new members to the school and their dorms and dates, please." I said with a little smile, the woman looking up at me with a visage that screamed boredom.
"Whatcha' need it for?" She snarled nasally, and I took a deep breath in preparation.
"Well, in correlation with the current recession of the economy, we're doing a quantitative study of the new arrivals to the school as compared to the amounts that have come in, say, ten years ago, and we can create a comparative study that will illustrate the-"
"Okay, okay. Sounds like an interesting story. I'll have to read it. Here, I'll print." She said, and I grinned. It never failed, honestly, to bombard people with journalism jargon until they gave up what they needed to. I snatched the papers from her eagerly and immediately left, sifting through them and dumping all of the papers but one.
"There you are..." I whispered, locating the only entrance from today. "Okay, Mr...Corinx, let's see what you're up to in room..." I scanned across, humming to myself. "Oh, seventy-four. Great. That's only down the hall from me. Thank God you moved away, George." I said to the sky, spotting the veritable giant of a boy slip into the dorm building. I once again followed, delighted with myself and the fact that he hadn't turned around. No one ever did; no one ever suspected that they were being followed. The morays of society tell them that their privacy is being guarded every second by some ethereal force, which makes my job all the easier.
I found my way to 74, heart pounding in anticipation. He must have already been in his dorm, probably unpacking. Just great. I waited by my door, pretending to search diligently through my iPod for something; this was absolute crap, of course- I was just waiting for an opening to go ahead and rifle through his stuff if I could. That would be great! It was an agonizing two hours of thinking of what I could find in there and how I could begin my story with each of the infinite possibilities. It was dizzying! Before long I heard the familiar crack of the door, doing a little clench of my fist in victory. The kid was probably about to go ahead and get his schedule, which meant that I probably had a good half an hour to sort through his things. Excellent. As he turned the corner without a second glance at me I stood up, dropping my ruse immediately. I jiggled his doorknob first-no luck. Oh, well. Time to employ crime, which every good reporter loved to cover. When you hung around the crowd long enough, you learned a few of their tricks. I took my meal card and jammed it in the crack of his door, a trick that had gotten me into my locked dorm many times, wiggling the door's loose hinges until it caught, the card getting stuck. I kept pulling on the doorknob, swearing quietly. It'd only been five minutes, sure, but it felt like an eternity. Taking a paper clip, I bent it awkwardly and put it into the lock, trying to at least hit a few of the tumblers or confuse the shitty technology at our school-it took almost another five minutes of fandangling before I got the slab of wood open, closing it behind me as I slipped inside.
Okay, time to quickly move. I only had twenty minutes left, and that's if the boy was walking slow. I immediately dove for the notebook resting on the writing desk, flipping to the front page. Only poems and quotes from places; definitely not mud. No porn, no dastardly secrets. With a quick glance at the digital clock on the mantle I determined I had a little over ten minutes left so I delved into his drawers. The bottoms held nothing, next row up only held a few loosely folded pairs of socks. Definitely no interest there, though they were quite big. I went the next set of drawers up, looking under and around about six pairs of shirts. Again, nothing. I marveled at the sheer size of the things again, though, surprised at not having found packets of protein and weights distributed all over the floor. I sighed, on the depressing brink of believing that this boy actually had nothing to hide. Nothing at all. I stood on my tip-toes to look in the last one, fishing around the customary Bible that lay in there and a few novels he'd thrown in there. "Oh, hello there~" I cooed as I pulled out a few rubbery packages, my eyebrows raising and a little blush stealing across my cheekbones.
"Extra large condoms, ah? You're quite the big boy in all definitions of the word, arent'cha?" I chuckled, replacing them carefully and closing his drawers. Oh well. I'd have to keep track of this boy, though-something caught my eye, however; the skylight that came with all of our rooms wasn't illuminating my way. The lamp was casting its artificial light, not the sun; my eyes flicked upwards and I took a swift picture of the sheet covering the skylight above his bed. Now things were getting curious. Why would he do that? Perhaps I had a secret on my hands after all as I slunk out of his room, hopefully leaving no traces of my presence.
I left and went back to my room, that night musing on my findings. What kind of person covered a skylight? Why wouldn't they want the sun in their room? He didn't cover any of the other windows, so he couldn't be some kind of vampire.
"Look at yourself!" I chided, shaking my head. "Talking about vampires and demons like they're real. What's real are news stories and your Nikon, so you're going to find out what you need to on this new kid!" I said to myself firmly, lying down on my bed. I dreamt of him that night.