A Secret Life
1
"Why do we have to live in the dorms?" Sydney Bristow complained, lifting her eyes from her Dostoyevsky novel to cast an annoyed glance toward her half-open window. Shouts and laughter tumbled in from outside, riding the warm California breeze. "Freshmen make so much noise."
"In case you've forgotten, we're freshmen," Francie Calfo said, twisting around in her chair to gesture with a wet red nail polish brush. She had long since abandoned her studies and was using her desk as a manicure station. "Not only that, but it's Saturday and it's beautiful outside. Any sane person would be out there making noise." Francie's dark brown eyes turned wistful. "Remind me again: Why aren't we out there?"
"Because of me," Sydney said with a sigh. Tossing her book aside on her thin, dorm-issue mattress, she got up to look out the window.
On the freshly mown grass below, students of all ages and descriptions were enjoying the sunny spring day, sitting and talking in groups or playing impromptu games of touch football and catch. Frisbees crisscrossed the scene, and a giggli ...
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