I—I guess I’m lost.” Mitch stuttered nervously. “I’m a Tri Epsilon pledge. I can’t find the house.”
“Really?” the girl said, her tone gaining interest, her lips parting in a ready smile. “Well now, how did that happen? You’re a pledge, you say?”
“Yes, I am. I—I had a fight and—well, I just got lost.”
“A fight? That’s terrible. Why, that’s awful. Look, I’ll tell you what we’ll do. Biff and I will walk you home. It’s just a few blocks, and we were going to take a walk anyway, weren’t we, Biff?”
The boy got up from the swing and studied Mitch. “Yes,” he said. “We’d be glad to walk you home.” There was a bright jeweled pin on his sweater. “I live right across the street from you. Delta Pi. We’re neighbors.”
“And,” the girl said in syrupy tones, “you can tell us all about this fight of yours while we walk along.”
“There isn’t much to tell,” Mitch said as they started down across the damp grass. “I guess I just lost my temper.”
Bud Roberts reeled back against the pale blue wall, and felt the warm trickle of blood on his forehead. He touched it with his finger and stared at its vivid color and stood there, slumped unevenly, resting. The door was partially open and the sound of many feet came rushing to him, and he straightened himself and walked into their midst, not stopping the blood as it ran. A girl shrieked out at the sight of him, and two young men rushed to aid him as he walked up to them all.
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