Chapter 2: Foosball
"Anyone know that cute freshmen skating in the Old Gym?" I call out to the two brothers having a heated foosball match in the Delta Ep living room.
"That's Freida-Mae Marzouk rehabbing a knee," observes Burkhardt while blocking a shot and flipping the little white ball out to mid-field.
"Afraid-Of-Me,"grunts Pete Jyzcinski slamming a handgrip to shoot the ball toward goal. "Great name for a bossy bitch."
"Might make a mean little sister," I ponder as Burkhardt pulls the shaft hard for another stop. "We could use someone to tell us what to do to clean up around here."
What I could really use was a new girlfriend now that MG was gone. Running mates with French benefits was how our relationship had evolved after the previous year's softball championship. Then she graduated a month later, leaving me to a lonely junior year so far. It wasn't in my nature to initiate a date, and the assertive coeds who might have were apparently uninterested in a recovering fat man.
After eight years of coeducation, Gibby-Hank had yet to start a sorority house. Girls inclined to partying either congregated in a wing of one of the dorms or signed on as female members of one of the fraternities that dominated campus social life. It was the end of the bad old seventies with unsupervised nights and weekends, aka wild times, along with rampant misogyny around the bucolic school grounds.
"Fuck that, Newsy," grumbles Pete as he executes a side pass and angled shot with a quick flick of the wrist. "Gotta sleep in on weekends."
"I just need a way to meet her," I plead, leaving the lack of help cleaning up for a chapter meeting.
"Let's road trip her!" he blurts, leaping back to steer his defensive line as his opponent maneuvers the ball.
"Jeez Jyz, kidnapping was illegal the last time I checked," I groan as Burkhardt pauses with the ball trapped behind a goalie.
"Tell you what, Zo," he smiles before slamming the grip for a reverse over-the-top shot that hits the hole. "I'll hook you up at Camptown."
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