I'm sorry, I mean explore the dining rooms. There's one place for early breakfast then a bigger place for lunch and dinner."
We bumped up the elevator, only one floor and I practiced a couple of times making my way across to the now locked dining room. "You've been in the dorms before?" she asked.
"In Terry Hall," I told her.
"So you know about the meal cards and all that."
"Oh yeah," I said, and patted my shirt pocket.
"Fine," Ellen said. "You know what, I think the little snack bar is open. Want to get something to drink while we wait on my wash?"
"Sure," I said. This is feeling rather domestic, I thought. "May I treat?"
"I'd not refuse," Ellen informed me.
I paid for two large soft drinks, one diet coke, one with lead and a large bag of cheese puffs to split. We sat on a bench outside of the snack bar which itself was little more than a cubby hole with a grill and probably a cooler of some sort. We talked about siblings, me two sisters, one younger, one older. She three sisters, all younger.
"We're both used to being around girls then," Ellen commented.
Majors, me Bio cum Astro Engineering, she Nursing.
"Janice, my roommate, is oceanography bio option," Ellen said. "She's sweet, I really like her!"
When the laundry was due to be finished Ellen excused herself, running down stairs this time to throw things in the dryer.
Returning, "So what do you do for fun?" Ellen inquired.
"Oh," I said, feeling like I'd been through this once tonight, "I read. I write. Go to parties now and then. I like going to plays too."
"With anybody special?" she asked "A girlfriend or...?"
"I date," I said, sounding a little defensive in my own ears, "but I have a pretty heavy course load so I guess I don't get out as often as I might."
"Might if what?" she asked a bit coyly. "If there was somebody special?"
"Probably so," I admitted having no idea where this conversation was going. Was she coming onto me?
"So currently just sort of exploring," Ellen said, making it a statement.
"How about you?" I countered. "Anybody special?"
"Oh I think we're all special," Ellen temporized. "Don't you?"
"I imagine," I said.
"Imagination is important," Ellen quipped.
"You've got a room mate," I said, meaning it as a joke.
"Don't you?" Ellen asked.
"Yeah."
"Is he nice?"
"I really don't know yet," I told her. "We just met this evening."
"Oh, what's his name?"
"Duncan," I sold her.
"Duncan," she said. "Did he live over in Haggett Hall?"
"I don't know," I admitted.
"What does he look like?" Ellen began then cut herself off with a self-conscious titter. "I'm sorry, how could you know? You couldn't, could you?"
"No."
"Well," Ellen used that sweet tone I'd heard when we had first met. "You never know."
I didn't respond to that.
I sprung for two more cokes then it was time to collect the drying.
"Mind waiting while I fold?" Ellen asked.
"No."
"I'll just borrow this laundry basket and bring it back down later."
"Need help folding?" I offered.
"I've got it," she said. She turned and doing so brushed lightly against me. She made no comment. Neither did I. Was I expected to respond in some way or was this just an accident?
"Whups," Ellen said, bending, to retrieve something from the floor. "Here," she placed something silky and still warm in my hand. "See if you can fold these."
I nearly dropped the pair of underwear on the floor from whence they'd been retrieved. I folded them as precisely as I could and extended the little square to her.
"You can keep them," she said, "to remember me by. Besides, you might need them when you go exploring?" Her amusement sounded quite genuine.
I'd thought she was only joking with me but Ellen was clearly preparing to depart so I stuck the panties into my pocket and "Let me carry your basket for you," I offered, taking it from her and cradling it in my left arm, managing to keep my cane ahead of me.
With Ellen acting as if nothing had happened and perhaps to her nothing really had, we went back up toward our rooms, I leading the way this time.
"Goodnight," Ellen said, taking her basket and patting my arm.
"Goodnight."
Finding my abode still devoid of roommate, I went to the bathroom, washed up, returning to peel down to my shorts and tee-shirt for exercises then climbed into bed.
"Good morning," Duncan said sleepily as I slid off the elevated bed platform and began the 110 push-ups to which I'd built since the previous summer when I'd discovered I was woefully out of shape.
"Good--morning" I panted back. "I didn't hear you come in last night."
"You do push-ups every morning?" he inquired.
"Yeah."
"That's admirable," Duncan said. "I don't think I have that kind of ambition."
I accepted the admiration as droplets of my hard-earned perspiration plopped on the bare tiled floor. I took a dip in the shower and returned with a towel wrapped kilt-fashion, finished drying and got into yesterday's clothes.
A few minutes later Duncan returned from his shower. "I'm going to open the window," he announced. "This deodorant is really strong." He demonstrated by overwhelming the room with an acrid cloud. "It's probably a women's deodorant," he added. "My mother gave it to me."
"Oh," I said, made able to breathe again by a sudden breeze wafting through the window.
"Are you ready to go down to breakfast?" Duncan asked.
"Yes," I said, glad he'd brought it up I'd have asked if I had to but it's nice to be invited.
"Just a minute," he returned. "I've got to put my contacts in." He said the phrase 'put my contacts in,' with sort of a breathy rush which made 'contacts' sound like 'kotex.' (There, that was an image.)
"Were you
