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Losing Control: Part 1

An uninvolved college student who cares for nothing finds himself in over his head with a group of student extremists who care just a little too much.

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Losing Control: Part 1
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The campus courtyard, which had less than a month ago been filled with fumbling freshman, holding out maps in search of their dorm rooms and getting wonderfully and tragically lost through the campus, was now operating as a well-oiled machine. Students strutted out of dorm rooms and made their way to their Comp I’s and Intro to Psychology’s as the sun rose over the rolling hills.

Adam walked among them, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and vaguely wondering if he’d make it to class on time, deciding that whoever invented Friday classes had their own special place in hell. Glancing at his watch and tearing off his bar-entry wristband from the night before, he picked up the pace and weaved through the students like they were a school of fish and he was a shark among them.

He broke through the crowd to take a short cut across the lawn when he saw her, stretched out on the grass with a book in her hand. The sun reflected off her auburn hair and cast a warm glow around her. He looked at his watch again, five minutes until class. A lot could happen in five minutes. He walked towards her briskly, slowing down when he got near her, never one to appear too anxious.

“Well isn't’ it funny running into you here,” he said, tossing down his backpack and reclining next to her on it.

“Yeah, it’s almost as if we go to the same school.” She didn’t look up from her book.

Adam laughed a little too loudly and fought for her attention once more.

He touched the spine of her book lightly. “'The Art of War'? Jesus shouldn’t you be reading the 'Catcher in the Rye' or something?”

“Because I didn’t read that in my 12th grade English class," she said, glaring up at him. "What do you want, Adam?”

“Well,” he said, “since I’m finally catching you at a time other than when you’re sneaking into your room at 4 in the morning, I wanted to ask you to go out with me.”

She stone-walled him. He broke the silence after a few moments.

“Okay, do you want a speech? I’ve got a speech prepared. Dear, Haley–” She cut him off, barely cracking a smile.

“Look, I’m just busy okay? And I don’t date my neighbors. Not to mention, the only reason you’ve caught me coming in so late is because you’re saying goodbye to your girl of the night and sending her off on her walk of shame.”

“Alright so we both have mysterious and possibly questionable ways we like to spend the wee hours of the night, it’s really only logical that we spend them together.”

She’d finally had enough and started packing up her bag to leave, mumbling some excuse about having a meeting to go to. A white flyer fell out of her backpack and landed at Adam’s feet as she stood up and ear marked “The Art of War.” His eyes scanned it before he handed it back to her. He’d seen these flyers plastered through out campus. They depicted the President of the University as a war lord, firing off an AK-47 with the caption, “School’s Not a Battlefield." He had heard talk around the school about the group that created them and had occasionally seen them out in the quad with picket signs chanting about gun control, but he gave them about just as much attention as he did to the guy with the megaphone, preaching angrily about the rapture.

“So is this what you’ve been out all night doing, trying to save the campus?” he said, handing her the flyer.

She snatched it back from him, “Yeah I know, it’s much less important than your bar crawls.”

“Whoa, I didn’t say that. I happen to be for your cause, I think gun control is super important,” he lied. She raised her eyebrows. “Look, I’ll prove it to you. When do you guys meet?”

She rolled her eyes and walked away from him, but he grabbed her arm to stop her.

“We’re not taking applications right now,” she said, tugging her arm out of his grip. Now his ego was officially bruised.

“Let me prove to you that I’m serious," he said.

“We both know there’s not a thing on this planet that you’re serious about. You might as well be majoring in alcoholism.” He clutched at his heart and laughed off her dig.

“Don’t you think people can change? I mean when I first met you you weren’t exactly this social justice warrior.”

“It’s been a long time since we first met,” she said turning away from him.

“That’s exactly my point!” he said, getting back into her line of vision and using her comment as ammunition. “You’ve grown up and so have I. I’ve honestly been meaning to get more involved. I mean allowing students to carry guns on campus, who does President Murphy think he is?”

Adam silently thanked his Business Ethics class for making him read the school newspaper for an assignment.

She squinted and scanned his eyes, doing her best to detect his lie.

“Fine, if you’re so serious …” she said with a smirk. “Meet us in the woods tonight.”

And with that she turned on her heel and marched off in the direction of their dorm room. She looked back only once to add, “9 p.m. sharp.”

Adam looked in the direction of his class before he watched her walk away until she was too far from sight. Who was in a rush to get to class anyway?

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