Blood Games

    Abilene slipped out of her sandals, emptied her hands onto the bench, and took off her robe. She rolled it up, set it next to her towel, then picked up her washcloth, soap and shampoo. She looked at Helen just as the girl’s large breasts, briefly caught by the hem of the nightgown, came free and dropped, bouncing and swinging. Helen finished dragging the nightgown off her head, gave Abilene a somewhat frantic glance, and deposited the nightgown on the bench.

    ‘Here goes nothing,’ she muttered, and gestured for Abilene to go first.

    Abilene stepped over the low, tile barrier, and entered the shower room. The steamy air wrapped her.

    She raised a hand and said ‘Hello’ to the two girls who stood under nozzles near the far end. She recognized both of them. ‘Cora, right?’ she asked the one near the corner.

    ‘Tucson?’

    ‘Abilene. This is my roomy, Helen.’

    ‘Hi,’ Helen said from behind her.

    ‘I’m Vivian,’ said the other girl. Abilene had never actually met her, but she’d seen her around and knew her name. She supposed that everyone knew her name. Vivian Drake was easily the most beautiful girl in the freshman class: tall and slender with dark auburn hair, emerald eyes, a flawless complexion and a stunning face.

    Abilene had stayed clear of her, certain that she must be a conceited bitch.

    Now, she said, ‘Nice to meet you,’ went to the shower right beside Vivian and turned on the water. She stepped out of the way, testing the spray with her hand. When it felt hot, she moved underneath it.

    Helen chose the shower on the other side.

    ‘Abilene’s a cool name,’ Vivian said.

    ‘Thanks.’

    ‘Is that where you were conceived?’ Cora asked.

    ‘No, I was named for the song.’

    Vivian began to hum it as she soaped her legs.

    Abilene began to like her.

    ‘It was my parents’ favorite song,’ she said. ‘It was their song, you know? Also, my dad’s a western writer.’

    ‘No kidding?’ Cora said. ‘No wonder you’re such a hot-shot in Dalton’s class.’

    ‘I’m sure having trouble with Shakespeare.’

    ‘The guy should’ve tried writing in English.’

    ‘I’ve got the Cliff Notes for Othello,' Vivian said. ‘If you want to stop by the room sometime, you can borrow it.’

    ‘Thanks.’

    She’s actually nice, Abilene thought, and felt a little guilty about prejudging her.

    Just because she’s gorgeous doesn’t mean she’s a shit.

    But her beauty was rather disturbing, and all the more obvious here in the shower room.

    Standing next to her, Abilene felt quite plain. She knew she was fairly attractive herself: slender, blonde, with quick blue eyes and an okay face except for a sprinkling of freckles across her nose that she didn’t appreciate but boys seemed to find cute.

    That’s me, she thought. Cute. Ordinary.

    Whereas Vivian was an incredible knockout.

    Even Cora, hardly a slouch in the looks department, suffered by comparison to the girl showering next to her. She was Vivian’s height, but the similarity stopped at that. Her face was wholesome, not striking. Her blonde hair was short and curly, not a long flow of rich, silken tresses. She had broad shoulders, full breasts, wide hips. Though she appeared to be much heavier than her roommate, there was no suggestion of fat. She looked athletic, not regal.

    Abilene turned to Helen. The girl’s head hung as she slid a bar of soap over one breast.

    She wasn’t a striking, regal knockout. She wasn’t wholesome and athletic. She wasn’t even plain but cute. She was homely, fat and dumpy.

    Abilene knew she must be feeling like hell.

    ‘Have you got any of your father’s books?’ Vivian asked.

    ‘Not with me.’

    ‘Does the student bookstore carry them?’

    ‘No, but the Save-More Drugstore has a bunch.’ She felt as if she were ignoring Helen. But maybe the girl preferred it that way.

    ‘What’s his name?’

    ‘Alex Randolph.’

    ‘Good. I’ll pick up something next time I’m in there.’ She squirted shampoo into her palm and started rubbing it into her hair. ‘So. Helen. What do you think of McMasters?’

    ‘He’s okay,’ Helen murmured, soaping herself and keeping her head down.

    ‘I hear he was a drill instructor in the Marines.’

    ‘He’s a bastard,’ Cora said.

    ‘We’re all in his eight o’clock,’ Vivian told Abilene. She was scrubbing her sudsy hair, froth rolling down the sides of her face. ‘How’d you luck out?’

    ‘I’ll be taking his course next semester.’

    ‘He’s a real bastard,’ Cora repeated.

    Vivian turned her head. ‘He might leave you alone if you’d get there on time.’

    ‘Fat chance.’

    Vivian laughed. ‘He’s decent enough to me and Helen.’

    ‘That’s because Helen’s got brains and you’ve got him flustered.’ Cora leaned forward and looked at Abilene. ‘You should see it. The guy blushes every time he lays his eyes on Viv.’

    ‘He hankers after me,’ Vivian said.

    Helen burst out laughing, raised her head and turned toward the others. Her mouth was stretched into a wide smile. The laughter shook her shoulders, made her breasts bob and shake.

    ‘Well, he does!’ Vivian insisted.

    ‘Hankers!’ Helen squealed.

    ‘Don’t split a gut,’ Cora advised.

    ‘I’m… sorry. Oh Jesus! He hankers after her!’

    And Finley came into the shower room.