I didn't meet Josh until weeks after this story took place, but he didn't stop telling it for months. It's about time you met another recurring character:
She knocked on the door with a rhythm best described as promiscuous. Before Josh could answer, she had already cracked it open, tiptoeing in. Lauren knew his roommate was away for the weekend, but she pretended she was surprised, anyway.
"All alone tonight?" She asked, mischievously, as she approached his bedside.
"Yeah," Josh lamented, he could taste her breath from just a few inches away—peppermint. She could stand to lose a few pounds, but, after all, so could he. Her wavy, strawberry-blonde hair is what got him. The extra deep v-necks certainly didn't hurt, either. Not to mention her relentless attempts at flirtation.
I'll spare you the details of what happened next...Josh wasn't having a lot of sex back then, but he was having some—which was certainly better than none. Lauren was just another in a series of mildly regrettable life choices, and that was okay.
He wasn't looking for a girlfriend, anyway—too expensive. Besides, 18-years-old was no time for commitments. Let's be honest, none of these girls (yes, at 18 they were still girls and boys, not women and men) wanted commitment anyway. The words "dating" and "girlfriend" were all but taboo. Instead, there was a lot of talk of "hooking up" and "girl friends." What's the difference? Just semantics, if you ask me.
He didn't realize this yet, though—how could he? So, as Lauren refastened her bra and scurried out of his tiny dorm room, he stared at the ceiling in amazement. The rules here were totally different—and as a result, so was the game.
Welcome to college, Josh.
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