The Outsider
Copyright 2009 by EC
EC's Erotic Art & Fiction - http://www.ecgraphicarts.com/
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(warnings: language, adult themes)

Chapter 8 - A suicide

Ruthie looked at herself in the mirror for a few minutes admiring 
how she looked in her new dress. She felt a tingle of excitement 
at the thought of having just worn such a revealing outfit in 
downtown Santa Cruz, but she felt even more excited at the 
thought that she now actually owned this dress and could wear it 
whenever she pleased. She spun around and the back lifted up, 
exposing her bottom. She giggled, realizing that she would have 
to keep that in mind when outside, to not turn around too 
quickly, or at least not when she could get in trouble. A naughty 
thought came to mind; the she could tease Mike by spinning around 
and flashing her bare bottom every so often.

The morality prudes would be offended at the sight of her in that 
dress. Satisfaction welled up inside her at the thought of 
bothering people that she hated. Undoubtedly someone would try to 
have her arrested for wearing so little, but she could argue that 
the dress was something she had bought in a clothing store and 
thus it had to be legal. Besides, the clothing restrictions at 
Davenport State University were among the most relaxed at any 
university in the US. Women were allowed to go to the main pool 
in thong-style swimsuits and topless sunbathing was permitted in 
some areas around campus, although not many students took 
advantage of that privilege. Given the relaxed atmosphere of 
Davenport, Ruthie would not be putting herself at risk nearly as 
much as she would if she tried wearing the dress in a place like 
Salinas.

Ruthie took off her new dress and hung it in her closet. She put 
a towel around herself, grabbed her shower stuff and stepped into 
the hallway. She would have not bothered to wrap the towel around 
her body, but at the beginning of the semester the RA had 
reprimanded her for being naked in the hallway and there had been 
a couple of disapproving comments from other women on the floor. 
That had been one disappointment out of several, because she had 
heard that a couple of decades before it was common for students 
to walk around the hallways of the dorms of Davenport State 
University in the nude and the attitude about that was very 
casual. It was strange, and unfortunate for her, that even in the 
most liberal part of the US, attitudes about nudity were more 
conservative than they had been in the past.

As soon as she entered the bathroom she did take off her towel. 
If other students had a problem with that, that was just too bad. 
Obviously in the bathroom she was within her rights to be naked. 
She brushed her teeth, then showered, and then returned to the 
mirror to run a comb through her hair before going back to her 
room. 

Since Shannon was not in the room, Ruthie took advantage of her 
roommate’s absence to leave her clothes off. She would study in 
the nude until she heard Shannon’s key in the door. Normally 
Ruthie slept naked, but she kept an over-sized t-shirt handy that 
she wore whenever she was up and Shannon was present. She knew 
that Shannon would have a biting comment if Ruthie tried to be 
undressed in her presence, but also if she were naked around her 
nemesis, she would be more vulnerable, which was something she 
did not want. As soon as Shannon came back, she would slip the 
shirt over her head.

Ruthie spent the next six hours typing her term paper, taking 
advantage of Shannon’s absence and having a rare night of 
privacy. The noise from neighboring rooms could be heard in her 
room, but even with the background sounds it was comparatively 
quiet, given that Shannon was one of the loudest students on the 
floor. Ruthie made excellent progress with the paper because 
there was nothing to disturb her concentration. The hours passed 
and Shannon never showed up. She must be at one of those all-
night parties, thought Ruthie to herself.

Finally, at about 3:00 am Ruthie reached a convenient stopping 
point. She was exhausted anyway and would not be able to 
continue. There still was no sign of Shannon. 

Good, I hope that filthy bitch got alcohol poisoning. On that 
note she went to bed and for once enjoyed a decent night’s sleep.

----------

Mike returned to his room and saw the one thing he had hoped not 
to see, Todd at the computer playing his on-line game with a new 
character. It appeared that things were back to normal, and yet 
Mike could tell that they weren’t. There was something strange 
about Todd’s behavior, a bizarre desperation in what he was 
doing. Mike’s thoughts drifted to what he had read about gambling 
addicts, to what happens to them after a series of losses; that 
they think the “big win” is right around the corner. Obviously 
Todd must be thinking along similar lines: that if he could just 
build up his replacement character, he could score big and 
restore his status in the game. If only…

Mike gave up on the idea of trying to talk to his roommate. It 
was too late to do anything to salvage Todd’s life. Whatever hope 
there might have been for him to return to the real world 
vanished when he created that new character. Mike knew that 
Todd’s situation was going to end very badly. He just wished the 
end would come quickly so he could get some sleep…

----------

Ruthie woke up refreshed and in a rare good mood. She glanced 
over at Shannon’s bed and saw that super-bitch had never come 
back that night. A glimmer of hope welled up in her that maybe 
something indeed had happened to Shannon. She got cleaned up and 
returned to working on her term paper.

The computer that she was using was an old Compaq that used 
Windows 98 as its operating system. Now…who used Windows 98? 
Ruthie Burns. The computer had been given to her as her 16th 
birthday present by her mother, who had bought it in a surplus 
sale from the office where her aunt worked. Ruthie’s mother had 
no clue what she was buying, but the price was right: $250 for 
the tower, monitor, keyboard, and a printer. Shannon, who of 
course owned a new computer that was given to her the same week 
that she entered college, had commented: “Where’d you get that? 
From an antique shop, or did you dig it out of a dumpster?”

----------

The bad thing about hoping that something happened to a person 
you hate is that the longer you wait and the more hope builds up, 
the greater is the emotional let-down when your nemesis finally 
does show up. Ruthie was in high spirits by noon, because she was 
becoming increasingly convinced that something had happened to 
Shannon. It would be sweet if super-bitch had been killed, or 
better yet, critically injured in a car accident. However, 
something like a DWI or alcohol poisoning or Shannon getting 
beat-up would have been sufficient to keep Ruthie happy. But, of 
course, people like Shannon enjoy some sort of cosmic protection 
and nothing bad ever happens to them. 

Sure enough, right at noon Ruthie’s heart sank when she heard her 
roommate’s key opening the lock of the door. She rushed to pull 
her t-shirt over her head. She had the shirt down to her legs 
just in time, because the door swung open and Shannon entered 
with her boyfriend. The quiet of the room was shattered as super-
bitch immediately turned on her CD player and talked loudly to 
her companion. Ruthie, as usual, did not object to the intrusion; 
she simply logged off her computer and grabbed a pair of shorts 
and a t-shirt out of her closet. With Shannon and her boyfriend 
firmly planted in her room, she had to go to the women’s bathroom 
to change, which entailed nothing more than pulling off her t-
shirt and replacing it with the shorts and shirt. She returned to 
drop off her sleeping shirt, get her backpack and put on a pair 
of sandals, and with that she was ready to step outside for the 
day.

Ruthie’s mood was somewhat soured by the re-appearance of 
Shannon, but at least she did have the room to herself for 18 
hours and had made very good progress on her term paper. Oh…it 
would be so nice to have a room to herself, where she didn’t have 
to clear out every time super-bitch showed up, where she didn’t 
have to worry about pulling a shirt over her head every time she 
heard a key in the lock…her own space…even if it was nothing more 
than a room with a desk and a bed. 

The stress of dealing with Shannon was starting to get to Ruthie. 
She knew that what she really needed to do was confront her 
roommate and tell her that she had to share the room and be more 
considerate, but she also knew that would get her nowhere. 
Shannon had an intimidating personality and was quick with 
demeaning comments and come-backs. Ruthie, on the other hand, was 
very bad at winning arguments because she couldn’t think of quick 
responses. Instead her thoughts stewed for hours afterwards and 
she would think of what she should have said, but had not at the 
moment she needed to hit back. Shannon bullied Ruthie, not 
physically but with her ability to quickly come up with cutting 
remarks and sarcastic sneering tirades. Ruthie was no match for 
her. 

The injustice of the situation burned in Ruthie’s soul. She was 
full of resentment, not only against Shannon but also against the 
university, for having placed her in a dorm room with someone who 
was so absolutely incompatible.

----------

Ruthie went into the cafeteria to have a salad and rice, and to 
pick up some fruit to eat during the afternoon. In theory she was 
not supposed to take food out of the cafeteria, but she always 
kept a stash of fruit with her so she could snack in the 
afternoons without having to deal with eating alone in a crowd of 
other students. 

It was Sunday afternoon, a time when usually there were very few 
people on campus. Ruthie decided to go behind the Econ building 
and see if the area around her “private spot” was deserted enough 
for her to take off her clothes and study naked. Sure enough, 
there were fewer than 20 cars parked in the lot and the grounds 
behind the building were totally empty of people. Ruthie pulled 
out a towel and laid it under the trees. She then stripped and 
settled down to study for the test she had the next day.

She was tempted to step out into the sunshine and walk around to 
enjoy the sun on her body, but knew that would be too risky. What 
she’d really like would be to go to Bonnie Doon beach, which was 
a clothing optional beach only about a two-mile walk away. She 
had gone a couple of times, but part of the route forced her to 
walk along the main road, which was something she felt very 
uncomfortable doing. She hated the walk as much as she loved 
going to the nude beach, so on that afternoon, laziness won out 
over her desire to be naked in the sun. She’d have to settle for 
her little spot under the trees.

As she looked out at the grass and the parking lot that lay 
beyond, Ruthie’s thoughts drifted. Her burning hatred of Shannon 
subsided now that she was away from the dorm room and not in her 
presence, so she could try to focus on more pleasant things and 
finally get to studying. She remembered that because it was 
Sunday, she’d have to call her mother and once again face the 
barrage of questions about not finding a church. More lies and 
more deception…

Well, better not to think about that now. Better to try to study 
and be ready for the mid-term by 5:30, and then she could see 
what her evening with Mike Sinclair would bring.

----------

Mike woke up to see that his roommate was gone. That surprised 
him, because usually Todd played his video game until about 5:00 
am, when exhaustion overtook him and he absolutely had to log 
out. Typically he slept until about 9:00 or so, then went to 
class, and then started up with the gaming around sunset. It was 
the first time during the entire semester that Mike had woken up 
and not seen Todd crashed on his bed.

Mike noticed that Todd’s computer had been left on and the 
screensaver was running. Out of curiosity he moved the mouse to 
see what his roommate had been doing. He saw the game’s death 
message. At first Mike thought that Todd had, for some reason, 
managed to bring up the death message for his original character. 
Then he realized that the message was not for the original 
character at all, but for its replacement. Mike realized that 
Todd had been defeated and killed online a second time. It wasn’t 
hard to figure out what had happened: Todd was playing a 
beginner’s character, and instead of slowly building it like he 
had done with his first character, he must have played it at a 
level way above its capabilities. Not hard to figure out, but it 
would be very interesting to see what Todd was going to do next. 
The fact that he had left the room immediately upon losing the 
second character indicated that something very serious might be 
going on.

Mike wondered what he should do. He didn’t know anyone who was 
close to his roommate and had never talked to anyone in his 
family. He thought about telling the RA, but tell him what? That 
his roommate had taken off because he lost a video game? That 
didn’t even sound right. What about the police? Like he was going 
to try to tell that to the police? Mike was convinced that if he 
did try to call the cops, Todd probably would show up after-all 
and he would end up looking like an idiot, or worse yet, be 
accused of making a prank call. 

Finally Mike contented himself with trying to find a phone number 
for Todd’s family. He was afraid to dig too deeply into his 
roommate’s desk, but he did make a half-hearted effort to find 
someone to contact. In the end he couldn’t find anything. Todd 
must have taken his cell phone because Mike couldn’t find it. 
Finally he decided to start studying, with a vague idea of being 
in the room in case someone called or showed up.

At 2:00 Mike’s floor RA knocked on his door. He was accompanied 
by two uniformed Davenport city police officers. Without being 
told, Mike knew what had happened; that Todd must have committed 
suicide. Sure enough, the officers related that several hours 
earlier Todd had shot himself in his car while sitting in the 
parking lot of a video game store. 

Because Mike was Todd’s roommate, he was the first point of 
contact for the investigation. It turned out he also was more 
useful than the police had anticipated, because he was able to 
give them a plausible motive for Todd’s death. Mike explained 
that Todd had been addicted to gaming and how, just two nights 
before, his character got killed on-line. He described Todd’s 
behavior when he was killed, and then talked about the new 
character and what he thought had happened.

“If you check his computer, you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

One of the cops then did something that totally surprised Mike. 
He didn’t move the mouse to verify what he was saying. Instead he 
simply unplugged the tower and disconnected it from the rest of 
Todd’s hardware. The cops put the CPU in a large bag and carried 
it out of the room. They searched his desk and closet and bagged 
up some receipts, CD’s, and a couple of flash drives.

The cops asked Mike a series of questions about his relationship 
with his roommate, whether or not he had any friends, whether or 
not he had any romantic interests, and what Mike knew about 
Todd’s academic situation. Mike’s answers were always the same… 
no, we never did anything together…to be honest, we never really 
talked…no, Todd did not have any off-line friends that he was 
aware of…no, there were no romantic interests that he was aware 
of…yes, he was failing the semester, but it was because he spent 
all his time gaming…

Finally, the police put some crime scene tape around Todd’s half 
of the room and left to talk with the RA. Mike sat on his bed, 
staring at the tape. He had expected something like this to 
happen, but to expect it and to actually know that it already had 
taken place were two totally different things. He tried to 
comprehend that he no longer had a roommate. In a few days either 
the police or one of his relatives would come into the room to 
pick up his things; and that would be the end of Todd. 

Strange, Mike thought to himself. I lived with this guy for two 
months, and I don’t even have a picture of him…

----------

Several weeks later Mike would find out the sordid detail that 
had pushed his roommate over the edge. The police were able to 
retrieve the log from his game and reconstruct what had happened 
during his final moments online. It turned out that with his new 
character he had attempted to contact his old battle group and 
join up with them. At first they rebuffed him because his 
character was not developed, but when he insisted, one of his 
former partners led Todd’s new character into a trap, insulted 
him, and left him to be killed by a monster. That betrayal must 
have been the final psychological blow that pushed him to pull a 
gun on himself a couple of hours later.

----------

When Mike met Ruthie for dinner, Todd’s suicide dominated their 
conversation. Mike realized that he was extremely lucky to have 
someone as serious as Ruthie to listen to him and give her own 
perspective. Suicide might have been too morbid a topic for most 
students to think about, but it was perfectly suited for his 
friend’s dark personality. She was interested in hearing the 
details and what Mike had told the cops.

Most important of all, Ruthie was willing to listen to Mike as he 
worked through his conflicting emotions. He felt guilty that he 
had not done more to prevent Todd’s suicide, and yet at the same 
time he was glad to be rid of a roommate that annoyed him and who 
he really did not like. He was glad that he would have the room 
to himself, but at the same time felt very guilty. His thoughts 
about Todd ranged from sympathy to contempt to disbelief that he 
could kill himself over something as stupid as an online game. To 
an average person Mike’s conflicting thoughts would have made him 
sound totally incoherent, but to Ruthie, his state of mind made 
perfect sense.

Mike would have expected Ruthie to tell him not to feel guilty 
about his roommate’s suicide. She did tell him that he had no 
reason to feel guilty, but the reasoning that came with that 
reassurance surprised him.

“I think what he did was the smartest thing he could have done. 
From everything that you’ve been telling me about his life, it 
totally sucked. He had no friends, no girlfriend, nobody gave a 
shit about him, you certainly didn’t like him, he was gonna fail 
the semester…so really…what did he have to live for?”

“He would have had plenty to live for if he hadn’t blown 18 
months of his life sitting at his computer blasting monsters.”

“You know that for a fact? You really think his life was oh-so-
wonderful before he started gaming? I mean…take a look at him. He 
wasn’t good-looking at all…probably no one gave a shit about him 
in school…he didn’t have much going on anyway…so what’d he do? 
Went somewhere he could do something he was good at and where 
people wouldn’t give him shit. His life sucked, so he found a 
place where it didn’t suck. That’s why he got into it so much, 
because he had nothing else to live for in his real life. So he 
escaped, and went to a place where people would respect him.”

“The point is; it didn’t do him any good and he did not escape 
from his real life. All he did was make his real life, the life 
that really matters, a lot worse. He spent 18 months screwing 
around with that game and what’s he got to show for it? Nothing. 
He spent 18 months of his life doing nothing. Now all he’s got is 
a bullet in the head. I really thought he should’ve been happy 
getting killed online, ‘cause it was his chance to do something 
else. He needed to forget about that monster shit and move on 
with his life. I…I still can’t believe that he was so stupid as 
to kill himself over losing a video game.”

“If his life sucked and had nothing else to live for, then he 
wasn’t gonna want to do anything else and wasn’t gonna move on 
with his life. To him it wasn’t a game; that was his life. And as 
for him being ‘so stupid as to kill himself’, if you’re unhappy, 
killing yourself isn’t stupid. It’s a lot stupider to spend your 
life being unhappy than it is to kill yourself. Putting up with a 
life that sucks is what’s stupid.”

Mike was quiet, because he wasn’t sure how to react to Ruthie’s 
last statement. Another overly strong opinion, to say the least. 
He paused, but finally he replied:

“I’m not so sure that I agree with you on that. If your life 
sucks, then you need to try to fix it. Either fix what’s wrong in 
your life or fix what’s wrong with the system.”

Ruthie rolled her eyes.

“Fix what’s wrong in the system? And just how are you gonna fix 
what’s wrong in the system?”

“You at least have to try…”

“Why? Why do you at least have to try? No one’s gonna give a shit 
whether you try or not. Mike, you’ve gotta understand that a lot 
of people’s lives suck and they suck for things they can’t help. 
If you’re ugly, you can’t fix that. If you’re a psycho, you can’t 
fix that. If you’re a meth-head, chances are you can’t fix that. 
If you’re job’s been outsourced and you know that you’re gonna be 
unemployed the rest of your life, you can’t fix that. I mean…look 
at all the people that Mega-Mart’s put out of work. How many of 
them do you think will ever get decent jobs again? How many? 
Their lives are gonna suck. So what’s the point of them staying 
alive?”

Mike cut her short.

“Ruthie, my dad was put out of work by Mega-Mart! I really don’t 
appreciate you saying he’d be better off dead!”

Ruthie turned pale. She tried to correct herself.

“I…I mean he’s got something else to live for…you 
guys…family…but…there’s a lot of people…that don’t have that. 
Todd…I mean…I don’t think he had anything else going on in his 
life…that’s all I was trying to say.”

For a moment they sat silent. She began fidgeting and looked down 
at the table.

“I’m sorry about your dad…I really didn’t mean to…”

Mike took a deep breath. “Look…I understand that’s not what you 
meant. But…just to let you know…you need to watch how you say 
things to other people…”

Ruthie blushed and tears welled up in her eyes. Mike came to her 
rescue by suggesting they go outside. As they put up their trays 
and made their way towards the door, he wondered about her 
unusual position on suicide: that if a person was unhappy, 
killing himself was the logical thing to do. It was a rather 
hopeless view of life, but as was normal for her, she was being 
recklessly honest with expressing how she felt about an important 
issue that has vexed people throughout recorded history. At first 
he had thought about changing the subject, but he was curious to 
find out more about her unusual take on committing suicide. He 
also calculated that if he let her talk some more, it would set 
her at ease about the slip she had made at the dining table.

He pointed towards a hill at the edge of campus, where there was 
a walkway and an observatory. The observatory was closed to 
anyone who was not an astronomy major, but the path underneath 
offered a view of the university on one side and the Pacific 
Ocean on the other. The observatory itself blocked the light 
coming from campus, so the only man-made lights visible were the 
string of distant headlights from cars driving along Highway 1. 
As they looked out over the coast and the distant Pacific Ocean, 
the two students were able to set aside their uncomfortable 
moment at the dinner table. Still, Mike was curious about 
Ruthie’s opinions about suicide and how she formed them. She 
responded:

“I don’t know…from a lot of places I guess. I’ve thought about 
it…’cause I’ve had a sucky life…ever since I left Nebraska…and 
even before I left…and I’ve often wondered what’s the point of 
living. Of course my mom keeps telling me that the point of 
living is to glorify God…but I think you know how I feel about 
glorifying God. So…I’ve done a lot of reading…history and on the 
Internet. You know…a lot of societies didn’t have the same ideas 
about suicide that we do. The Japanese…if they screw up, it’s 
what’s expected of them, or at least it used to be. Killing 
yourself was honorable. In ancient Rome people killed themselves 
all the time, if they thought they were going to be humiliated or 
if they were gonna be arrested. In a lot of cases in Rome, if a 
person was about to be arrested, the guards even gave them to 
chance to kill themselves to save their honor and avoid getting 
tortured. I found that fascinating…and a lot better than the 
‘culture of life’ that we have here in this country. If you 
screwed up or your life sucked, then there was a way out and 
there was nothing wrong with taking it.”

Mike smiled slightly. “I don’t think that’s ever gonna happen 
here.”

“Of course it’s not. They’ve got us brainwashed with this 
‘culture of life’ crap. No matter how much your life sucks, you 
owe it to God or your relatives or whoever to stay alive. I guess 
the point is that I strongly believe that if a person wants to 
kill themselves, that’s their right. The government has no right 
to try to force someone to stay alive if that isn’t what they 
want. The truth is that a lot of people's live suck and there’s 
nothing anyone can do about that.”

Mike considered what his friend was saying. Her opinion certainly 
was different from anything he had ever heard, but he was 
surprised that he did not find it repulsive in the least. She was 
forcing him to look at a life and death matter from an entirely 
new perspective. As brutal as it may have sounded at first 
glance, what she said actually made a lot of sense. 

For a while they stood in silence, looking out over the ocean and 
the steady stream of headlights going up and down the highway. 
Mike continued to ponder what Ruthie had said to him, wondering 
what painful event in her past might have pushed her to be so 
accepting of suicide. He also wondered if she had seriously 
considered committing suicide herself. He knew that she must 
have; otherwise she would not have given the issue so much 
thought. Then, his own training in political analysis kicked in, 
and he thought about her comment “they’ve got us brainwashed with 
this ‘culture of life’ crap.” That most certainly was true, but 
why? Why would the government force a person to live out an 
existence that he doesn’t want? Mike’s cynical view of politics 
and economic interests prompted him to throw out an idea:

“I suppose the whole thing with the government and the 
authorities comes down to a vested interest in keeping people 
active in the economy. If a lot of people started thinking..."my 
life sucks, and I'm checking out" then who would be available to 
work in all the Mega-Burgers? Who would be around to pick 
artichokes? Who would be around to serve coffee? Who would be 
spending their money on Chinese imports at Mega-Mart? So the rich 
guys have this huge incentive to suppress any thought of suicide 
as a personal choice…I think that’s the answer to your question. 
Just like everything else in this country, it really comes down 
to money. If you’re dead, they can’t make any money off you.”

“There’s that whole money thing, but I think there’s more…the big 
argument that I’ve seen on the Internet is that suicide is 
selfish, that it hurts those around you so you have no right to 
do it. It’s this idea that you have stay alive to serve everyone 
else and you can’t do what you want. I mean…I know my mom would 
be really messed up if I ever tried anything, and that’s the type 
of argument they’re using…that and the whole thing about pissing 
off God. And…it’s a challenge to the Christian world-view; if 
you’re not alive you can’t serve God. They argue that life is so 
precious, and folks need to be encouraged not to leave 
prematurely. But I argue back, what's the point of living if the 
life I want is denied to me and all I get is the crumbs left over 
by the rich? It’s up to society to make life worth living. The 
government needs to doing shit for all the rich people and start 
worrying about making life worthwhile for the rest of us. You 
look at all the stuff the rich are doing to us, taking away our 
health insurance, taking away our scholarships, suing us when we 
try to download music, passing all these morality laws so I can't 
do something as simple as take off my dress if I'm hot...and then 
they wonder why some of us can't stand the world they have 
created...”

“And that’s my point, Ruthie. It all comes down to money. You 
just said it yourself.”

Suddenly Mike’s heart skipped a beat as he remembered her phrase 
“…passing all these morality laws so I can't do something as 
simple as take off my dress if I'm hot…” Interesting that she 
would say that, especially considering how she normally dressed…

They realized that several hours had passed and that it was 
getting late. Ruthie was trembling because she had nothing to 
protect her body from the chilly wind except for shorts and a 
very flimsy shirt. Even in the dark, Mike could see that her bare 
arms were covered with goose-bumps. She had not given him any 
indication that she wanted to go back to the dorm area, but it 
was clear that she was very uncomfortable perched on that 
hillside with the wind hitting her exposed skin. Mike realized 
that if he wanted, he had an opportunity to get closer to her. He 
did have some doubts, because there was no question that Ruthie’s 
lack of social skills might cause him some embarrassment from 
time to time. She was morose and obviously prone to depression. 
However, the evening’s conversation had proven that he really 
could talk to her about any deep or thoughtful topic. He felt 
that he needed that in his life, and her openness about “deeper 
issues” far outweighed whatever faults she might have. On top of 
everything else she very attractive, with her large dark eyes, 
petite figure, and perfect olive skin. She was timid and yet at 
the same time was not in the least prudish about her body. That 
detail Mike found very desirable about her. He wanted her.

“Ruthie, I’m kinda worried about you. You look cold standing 
there in the wind like that.”

She nodded.

“Why don’t you let me put my arms around you, so you can warm up 
a bit?”

She nodded again and allowed him to wrap his arms around her 
stomach. She pressed her back against his chest and immediately 
stopped shivering. For a long time they stood quietly, watching 
the fog build over the Pacific Ocean and the line of headlights 
along the highway thin out.

Mike didn’t know what to do next. Ruthie was only the second 
woman he had ever held in his arms, so he was not sure how to 
proceed with her. Up until that moment, his entire experience 
with the opposite sex consisted of the time he had spent with 
Lisa, and he knew that experience was irrelevant because Lisa and 
Ruthie were so different from each other. He wanted to kiss her, 
but had no idea whether or not she would go for that. In the end 
he decided not to take the risk, opting to err on the side of 
caution. It was fortunate that he decided to wait, because had he 
tried to kiss her at that moment she would have become very 
nervous and the mood of the evening would have been spoiled.

Finally they realized that it was time to return to their dorms 
and get ready for the next day, which included the infamous 
English literature course. They headed back. Mike decided that 
there was at least one thing he wanted to change.

“Tomorrow…in lit class…I’d kinda like to sit with you…if that’s 
OK…”

Ruthie glanced up at him, smiled slightly, and nodded.

