shoulder made me jump. Numbers 10 and 51 spilled out of my lap onto the polished hardwood. My laptop almost went down, too; I barely caught it in time.
“Bit jumpy there, eh, kid?” Zach asked as he bent over and began to scoop my papers up. I started to help him, but he said, “I got this, no worries.”
He handed me the stack with dripping hands. He was soaked, dark hair plastered to his head, had on a T-shirt that read: I react to chemistry.
“Now, Noah, I haven’t seen you in all of forever,” he said as he plopped down next to me, put a wet arm around my shoulder. I didn’t know whether to lean into it or to pull away, so I stayed limp and unmoving. “What I want to know is,” he went on, “well—how are you? Any complaints? Grievances? Issues you’re too shy to take up with the administration?”
“Now that you mention it, there’s no toilet paper in the bathroom—”
“Because,” he interrupted, “that’s what the secretary is for. Or the treasurer. Or the president. Noah, do not hesitate to bother them. Consider this permission granted. That’s what they’re for, and God, I don’t particularly like them, so I won’t pretend I won’t get a certain satisfaction out of it—Noah, I know I’m pretty but please, we need to concentrate. There are times for drifting off into my eyes and there are times for serious business.” He gave me a stern look. “This is a time for serious business.”
“You’re completely wet.”
“Oh, that,” he said, as if he hadn’t noticed it, but he withdrew his arm. “I took a jog in the rain. Was hoping I’d catch pneumonia. So far no luck. I think I’m going back out there to try again. Care to join me?”
“Pneumonia together?” I said. All thoughts of reforming myself into a better student vanished.
He nodded. “What better way for an elected officer to bond with his constituency?”
“By advocating for their best interests, à la toilet paper in the bathroom on the—”
He scoffed. “We’re not running a socialist utopia here, Noah. There will be no redistribution of toilet paper. We must trust in the market.” Then, “Are you coming, or am I going to have to go right on out there and get pneumonia all on my lonesome?”
I nodded to my computer, my papers. “Give me a minute?”
I met him outside Galloway’s main entrance, under the canopy, my heart hammering as if I’d already run three marathons, and as soon as he saw me push through the door, he took off into the rain, yelling over his shoulder, “WE’RE RACING!”
I chased after him, splashing through the wet, down paved paths, and then the dirt trails. Past the Wellness Center and the residential quad. Then up a trail that led us by the Lakeside Apartments on our left, the wall on our right, the lamps along the wall lit in the rainy dusk.
He was fast, faster than me.
The rain fell hard against my skin, the dark in the horizon punctuated here and there by rumbling undercurrents of light. I heaved breaths in the lulls between distant peals of thunder, and as I drew up beside him he winked at me, sped up, pushed himself harder. There was a massive puddle up ahead; my sneakers squelched with every step through it and the mud left splotches against my legs. I knew if I looked behind, I’d see a trail of footprints, mine and his, side by side; I knew if I looked back I’d see the rain falling into the lake water in a thousand thousand places, the lake connected to the sky by strips of water, everything was water, and it seemed ridiculous now, the idea of my life not mattering, the idea that I was nothing.
I was the rain.
I was the lake.
I was the ground beneath my own feet.
I was full of everything.
I came back to my senses when I saw Zach breaking away. We’d passed the lake and were on the slick cobblestones of the forest path that ran behind Galloway, in the shadow of the evergreens, and I pushed harder. We were running like there was a ribbon waiting for us somewhere, anywhere, until finally, the cafeteria peeked into view, and I knew we were headed for the steps, but I couldn’t beat him, and that’s when he slowed.
Almost imperceptibly, but enough for me to catch up, enough for us to reach the steps together, and when we did he threw his