by R. A. Mejia
The walk back to the food court doesn’t take long, and Jeff and I talk about who’ll be coming over to study this weekend and what subjects we’ll be working on. Jeff seems to know everyone on campus and has a long list of people that could use some help. I don’t mind helping people out. Just because the System makes studying so easy for me doesn’t mean that it’s that simple for everyone. Part of me feels like I’m cheating a bit using enhanced Intelligence stats and special skills to practically memorize the textbooks and recall the information when I need it. But then again, some people are really rich and can afford tutors or special study programs from a young age. That doesn’t mean they don’t work hard, only that they have an advantage.
Jeff and I have separate classes after lunch but promise to do some shopping later. I head off to my Economics class. It’s another normal lecture, and the teacher doesn’t do much more than regurgitate the information from the textbook in a slide presentation format. There have been a couple of interesting class projects, but having already memorized the textbook, most of what he says feels repetitive.
After our respective classes let out, Jeff and I meet up and share an auto cab to the grocery store where we get a bunch of stuff for the next day’s study sessions. It’s a huge place that services the entire college town, and as we walk in, several automated grocery delivery robots zip out of the store. Their service is convenient but costs a monthly subscription fee plus a service fee per pound of food. When I suggest we try out the service and just split the cost, Jeff refuses. He says that the money we save would be better spent on booze.
Once inside, the two of us walk down the closest aisle. Jeff grabs all the ingredients for his spaghetti, including spicy Italian sausage, several types of tomatoes, celery, green peppers, red pepper flakes, onions, a collection of spices, and spaghetti noodles. I grab sodas, chips, salsa, sour cream, and a few other snacks. Jeff picks up more alcohol and the stuff for mixed drinks. While we’re shopping, I maximize my time by using Inspect and Inventory Management on everything. It’s been a while since I’ve had a chance to use the skills on these kinds of routine things, and by the end of the shopping trip, I’ve raised Inventory Management to level 7, getting me one more inventory slot. However, for all the effort, Inspect II only rises to level 3. Honestly, it seems to be much harder to raise since it evolved.
We split the bill for the food at the checkout counter, and while it’s not cheap, it is less than what we’d pay if we just ordered out for everyone. One thing my mom taught me was that making food was much cheaper than ordering out or going to a restaurant. Yaay, fiscal responsibility.
On the ride home in the auto cab, Jeff can’t help but brag about how awesome this study party is going to be.
“Wait, party? When did this become a party?” I ask.
“Come on, Anthony. You can only study so much, and then your brain gets burnt out. I’m only planning the relaxation portion of our study group.” He gives me a charming smile and waggles his dark bushy eyebrows at me. “You know, the after study party.”
I can’t help but laugh at my friend’s ability to charm even me and briefly wonder if he’s suddenly developed some magic effect like a bard. A quick use of Inspect makes it clear that he hasn’t, but if the System gave Jeff a Charisma score, I’d bet it would be pretty high.
We pull into the apartment parking lot, and I’m helping Jeff unload when All Seeing goes off again. I spot the blue glow surrounding a couple of guys sitting in a car on the other side of the parking lot. I’m not sure if I would have noticed them if not for my ability, but now that I see them, they stand out. After all, not many people own a car and instead opt to use automated transportation. The men pull out and drive away before I can decide if I want to walk over and confront them, and the whole event gives me the creeps.
Chapter 21
Days pass and while I have some lingering paranoia at seeing the police following me, nothing else happens. With finals so near, I put the incident aside and focus on studying. Even with the benefits of being a System User, it takes time and effort to prepare for finals. Especially when I also have to help Jeff and his friends. I end up sharing notes and preparing review sessions at our apartment.
I breathe a sigh of relief as I walk out of the classroom, my last final of the semester completed. The U.S. history and Economics finals were relatively easy since they were a combination of essay and multiple-choice quests. The Forensic Anthropology final was the most challenging since it tasked us with filling in as much info as possible about a selection of bones presented to us. Some of the bones had partial information, but some had none, and I had to rack my brain to figure out some details since the teacher didn’t let me use my Magnifying Glass of the Detailed Detective. Still, I think I did okay. The Public Speaking final was one last presentation on everything we’d learned. While not a big deal for me, several students looked like they were going to hurl during their turns.
Checking out my skills, I’ve made some interesting gains due to the classes I took this semester.
Com 100 - Public Speaking; Orator skill: 9
ANT 491 - Forensic Anthropology; Bone Identification skill: 9
HST 202 - United States History; Resist Sleep skill: 6
EC 201 - Principles of Economics; Haggle skill: 4
My other academic skills have increased as well.
Analysis: 10
Computer Interface: 6
Computer Knowledge: 4
Deception: 5
Mental Math: 7
Speed Reading:10
Writing: 7
Tutor: 7
One of the most interesting things about attending college for me is that I get to increase System skills while I’m in class or studying. I’m not sure other System Users are even aware of the benefit, but it’s something that keeps me going when classes get tedious. I can’t help but laugh when I see that my Resist Sleep skill has increased all the way to level 6 just because of how much effort I had to put into staying awake during U.S. History. That professor was just so boring when he lectured. The rest of my skills match up with what I was learning, and the fact that Bone Identification went up all the way to level 9 only makes sense with how much lab work we did. More hours practicing means more skill gain. I’m not sure how much use I’ll be getting from my Orator or Haggle skills, but I’m not going to say no to free skill gains. I also note that the Tutoring skill has gone up to level 7 because of all the study groups and me tutoring Jeff, which makes me a good tutor, I guess, and increases my chance of teaching another User one of my skills by 6%. Most of my other skills have hit either level 6 or 7 depending on how much I’ve used them, and I’m excited to evolve Analysis and Speed Reading now that they’ve reached level 10. But I decide to wait till I can research what they can evolve into first. After all, they’re plenty useful just as they are, and I’d hate to change them into something stupid.
I’m pretty pleased with myself as I walk across campus to my apartment. I’m thinking about what grades I may get this semester, what classes to take next semester and what kind of skills they may give, but find myself distracted by a subtle beat coming from some music. As I get closer to the apartments, the music gets louder, and as I arrive at our complex, I find that our entire apartment building has been transformed into one giant party. People are swimming in the pool just outside our building, and the hallways are packed with people coming in and out of apartments, eating, drinking, and dancing. I get a few pats on the back as I try to squeeze my way past the groups of revelers who congratulate me on the most epic party of the semester. I nod dumbly, not sure what to say. Then I hear a familiar voice come over the wireless speakers that have been strategically placed throughout the complex, “Up next is a request from sexy Sarah for something she can dance to. So, here is I Got a Feeling Remix by The Black Eyed Peas.”
I shake my head as I place the voice as Jeff’s. People begin congratulating me on the party as I head up the apartment’s stairs, I can’t he
lp but appreciate how happy everyone looks. Pretty soon, my annoyance at Jeff starts to fade. Sure, he could have told me about his plans, but he’s helping everyone destress after finals and likely saving at least a few students from nervous breakdowns.
When I finally reach my apartment, the place is packed with dancers. Our furniture has been moved out, and the entire living room has been transformed into a massive dance floor. Strobe lights and fog make the room feel like I walked into some trendy club, and I see Jeff on a platform where our couch used to be. He’s dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a dress jacket, he is wearing a fedora, and he is spinning two massive turntables. As I walk inside, the music transitions to One More Time by Daft Punk. The crowd of ladies surrounding DJ Jeff scream and start to gyrate in strange yet sexy ways. I’d likely still be standing there, staring at their moves, if someone hadn’t bumped into me while trying to get to the booze covering the counters of our kitchen. I shake my head and yell for Jeff, but my voice doesn’t carry over the blaring music. I try to get past the dancers packed into our living room but can’t make it. A familiar blonde with skin so pale it seems to glow under the strobe lights grabs my hand and pulls me towards her. She presses her body against mine and starts to dance. The dance floor is so crowded I can’t disengage, so I stand there, moving my shoulders and arms in an awkward imitation of someone dancing. She is either so into the music that she doesn’t notice my bad dancing or she’s just too drunk, but either way, she continues her sexy grinding till the end of the song. When the music switches, she leans into me and whispers in my ear, “Want to go back to my place?” Before I can respond, she pulls me away from the dance floor, and I catch a glimpse of Jeff looking at me with a thumbs up gesture.
While I’m completely flattered that some hot college girl has asked me to go back to her place, and part of me wants to see where it would go, I’m not the cheating type. Thankfully, the hallways are still packed with people, and I’m able to disengage from her grip and slip away. I hear her yell, “Where’d you go, hot stuff?” but duck behind one of the open apartment doors on the floor till she passes.
While I wait, peeking out the window, a voice says behind me, “Who you hiding from?”
I turn around to see one of the girls from my anthropology class. She’s wearing a black spaghetti strap top, a plaid skirt, and has red highlights in her jet-black hair. Her goth makeup is a bit lighter than the last time I saw her, but her lipstick is a super dark blue still.
Peggy O’Dell
Anthropology major with an emphasis on criminal science application.
Likes: Heavy Metal, Crime shows, and Science
Dislikes: People that ruin mystery movies, Unicorns, the color pink
Disposition: Curious
Bonus Info: She is a serious fan of any TV show with the letters CSI in it.
I thank the System for Inspect since I’m so terrible at remembering people’s names. “Oh, hey, Peggy. What are you doing here?”
She smirks at me as she takes a drink of the beer in her hand. “I live here.”
I look around and am just surprised that the apartment looks so, well, normal. There’s a black leather couch, a TV, and a normal-looking dinner table.
She laughs as she watches my eyes roam the apartment. “What? Were you expecting the walls to be painted black or something?”
I smile back. “Sort of.”
I hear a voice that sets my teeth on edge. “Oh, there you are, baby.” I turn to see the aggressive blonde whom I was hiding from. I wave and smile, unsure of what else to do. The blonde turns her head slightly to see who I was talking to, and a frown appears on her face. “Why are you talking to Peggy?”
I turn to see Peggy with an arched eyebrow and a forced smile on her face. “Hey, Marcy.”
I take a step back from the door so that I can see both ladies at once. “That’s right, you two know each other.”
Peggy rolls her eyes and nods. “Yeah, Marcy is my roommate.”
Marcy grabs my arm and looks up at me with a smile. “Yeah, it was very nice of you to meet me here. I thought for a second that you ditched me. But, no, you knew where I lived the whole time, didn’t you?”
I pleadingly look at Peggy, but she either doesn’t notice the look or is enjoying the awkward situation as she sips on her beer. There are a couple of other people in the apartment, eating pizza and watching TV on their couch, but no one I know. As Marcy pulls me toward what I can only assume is her bedroom, I try my best to pull away.
“Marcy, I’m really flattered. But I don’t think you’re really interested in me. Besides, I have a girlfriend.”
The word ‘girlfriend’ makes Marcy pause for a moment, but then she smiles drunkenly. “I won’t tell her if you won’t.” She then resumes pulling me towards her room. The other guys sitting on the couch are all now watching Marcy and me walk by instead of the TV. They’re giving me looks that say, ‘What? Are you dumb or something? She’s hot. Go for it.’
I finally pull my arm away from her and am about to tell her that I’m frankly just not interested in sleeping with her when Peggy steps between us. She takes Marcy firmly by the arm and leads her into one of the bedrooms, whispering into her ear the whole way. She returns without Marcy a few minutes later, and there’s a smug little smile on her face. I’m kind of impressed at how neatly she handled her drunk roommate.
“So, what did you tell her to get her to go with you?”
Peggy tilts her head and smiles mischievously. “Oh, I just reminded her that she’s supposed to be dating someone on the basketball team and that if he heard about her stepping out on him again that she will get dumped.” She walks past me and towards the kitchen, and I follow her. She grabs a new beer from the fridge and continues, “Marcy does this all the time. She parties a bit too hard, starts hitting on some rando she finds cute, and tries to sleep with him. Then she wakes up the next day in trouble with whoever she’s actually dating.”
“Oh, so I’m just some ‘rando’? How flattering,” I say with a chuckle.
She shrugs and takes a drink before answering, “Sorry to bruise your ego, but yeah.”
When I think about it, it is a little ego-bruising, but only a little. “Well, uh, thanks for helping me out. I’m not sure I would have been able to get out of the situation without causing a scene. I’m not good with that kind of stuff. I guess I owe you. Let me know if you need help with something sometime.”
She shrugs again, clearly uncaring, and I leave the apartment back into the press of bodies in the hallway. I know that this is supposed to be a great party, and everyone seems to be having a great time, but if I’m honest with myself, I feel really uncomfortable with all these people that I don’t know around me. Maybe it’s something about them all being strangers or everyone being squished into such a small area, but isn’t this why I moved into the apartments with Jeff? I wanted to expand my horizons and try new things, so I push down my feelings of discomfort and head back to my apartment. I squeeze my way past the dancers to the kitchen where I grab a soda from one of the open cases, pop the top, and take a long drink. The fizzy cola gives me the sugar boost I need to deal with all these people. The next song comes on, and I figure I’ll give dancing a chance, so I wade into the group of dancers and start to move to the beat of the music. I’m not dancing with anyone, just by myself, and I honestly don’t mind. The combination of the sugar rush and the rhythm of the music starts to get to me, and I feel myself relax a bit. My shoulders start to bounce, my hips start to wiggle, and even my legs approximate dance steps. I close my eyes and just feel the music for a moment, enjoying the sounds and the movement.
The rest of the night passes by in a flash. I walk around and talk to people and eat copious amounts of junk food. Being friends and roommates with Jeff is a great conversation starter since that guy seems to know everybody. Some groups are really friendly, especially the ones that remember me from study group, and others aren’t, but I learn that there are always more people to t
alk to even if one doesn’t seem interested in talking with me.
Conversationalist
Level 1
You’ve learned how to make small talk and get to know people. At high levels, you’ll become the life of the party and be able to draw out others while talking to them. Also affected by Charisma stat.
Despite getting a new skill, it still takes a bit of effort to talk to people I don’t know. It’s more a matter of getting over my own discomfort than anything. So, pushing through that is a challenge, but I meet some nice people.
I don’t know exactly what time the party dies down, but I think at some point the police come and break things up because of noise complaints from the surrounding neighborhoods. I guess they have issues with music blaring after 4:00 a.m. It’s nice when everyone finally heads back to their own homes, and I finally crash in my own bed.
Chapter 22
There’s a loud knock that wakes me up from a sound sleep. A glance at the clock next to my bed tells me it is 9:00 am, way too early since I didn’t go to bed till after 4:00 am. I seriously consider ignoring whoever is at the door, but when the knocking gets more insistent, I drag myself out of bed and stumble to the door. I squint as the light from outside hits my weary eyes. Blinking a few times helps, and when I can see properly, I find a man wearing a police uniform. I automatically use Inspect on him.