Rule #1
Respect the island's natural environment and wildlife by minimizing human impact and preserving ecosystems.
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FINN SALTS the list read ROOM 1043.
"Room 1043" I repeated over and over to myself as I tried navigating the polished bamboo plank decking extending elegantly around the vast building and curving out of sight. Shit... I already knew I was going to get lost in this place. Behind me I rolled my two suitcases, both overpack with clothes and toiletries; one bag with like 4 bottles of lube -- well, if we were all trapped here for the next 18 months, why the hell not? Also, I highly doubted they sold any personal products at the campus clinic.
I passed doors and doors as I traveled toward the 1000 section; milling around me were boys from all walks of life. Some boys had already found their rooms and were now linking up with friends from previous semesters; casual high-fives, arms thrown around shoulders, rowdy ass-slapping, the works. Other boys -- I really hoped I didn't look like one of those -- were clearly lost and frustrated. I nearly bowled over a kid just wheeling his suitcase onto the massive outside decking for the first time -- when he jumped out of the way and I caught sight of wicked tattoos running up his right arm. His hissed something at me, but I couldn't catch the words.
The heat was intense.
Wind brushing all the palm fronds into a chaotic dance did nothing to cool me down. Not for the first time since I de-planed did I regret making the choice to show up in jeans.
"Yo man!" Said a tall Asian kid to his darker skinned friend, "Did you end up pranking your folks over the summer?"
"Three words!" The other guy joked back, looking real casual -- and really attractive to be honest -- in beach trunks and a tanktop with barely a strip of fabric holding it together in the back. "Three words: Snake. In. Hottub."
"Hot tub is two-words, dumbass."
I continued on past them, feeling the prickling at my temple and the ass sweat under my layers of clothing. A bright yellow and white parrot -- a freaking bird of paradise -- swooped down through the pillared second balcony above us, through the shadowed walkway beneath and inches from my face.
"If a bird shits on me... I swear..." The kid with the tattoo had caught up to me and was trying unsuccessfully to sweep beautiful chocolate brown curls out of his eyes.
We turned at the same time and bumped into each other trying for the same revolving glass door. After a brief exchange where he honestly shoved past me a little, we ended up caught in the same revolving space. His skin was just as sweaty and greasy as mine; when we made eye contact I thought maybe he'd smile -- underneath his messy hair he had an intense gaze with bright yellow eyes flecked with gold -- he glared at me. I quickly looked away.
Fitting out of the revolving door proved to be harder owing on the fact that we both tried to roll out of there at once. The resulting mess ended with his suitcase caught up in my second bag, us both tripping over the roadblock and the tell-tale ziiiiiipppp of my back being yanked open by our forward motion.
Clothing went everywhere, but it was one of the rolling bottles of lube I was most startled by. I threw myself after it, catching the boy in the chest with one of my sneakers as he was trying to get up. Damn... just missed it. The clear bottle rolled past my fingers. I crawled after it.
I continued frantically crawling after it, probably looking like a baboon in pants, when at last it came to rest under... under someone's foot.
I looked up, startled.
The guy wasn't looking at me, but instead down at the lube. He instantly smirked then turned his smirk on me.
"Guess you've got needs, huh?" He asked in a low baritone.
Worse than just being 'some kid in our dorm', this guy was clearly one of the older students. He was tall and muscular, dwarfing both myself and the other boy still struggling to extricate himself from my clothes. In the revolving door my second bag had jammed and created a traffic stop beyond.
Before I could snatch it away, the guy bent down and plucked the bottle from underfoot. His smirk widened as he mouthed the letters 'K' and 'Y' -- "Keeping to the basics? or couldn't afford the fancier stuff?" He chuckled.
His teeth were perfect; you could land an airplane on those things. His auburn hair was up in a big beach-style man-bun with shaved sides and a sleek line trimmed into the back level withe the tops of his ears. I couldn't make out his eyes behind the wooden sunglasses perched over them. It was clear by the swim trunks and shirtless adonis body draped with a towel over one shoulder, that he was probably all settled into his private Year #2 Student Dorm and on his way to do some laps.
As he shifted forward and offered a hand, the towel flapped out of the way revealing -- yup, cum gutters... I mean, abs... really really good abs. Back home Alecia had always asked me to get some like that and I'd tried, really I had. Six months of hard work and proper diet had gotten me fit, just not... not blocky like that. Was this guy on steroids or something?
I did not take his offered hand.
Back where we'd entered, all my shit was starting to cause quite the commotion. Angry-boy-with-tattoo was only now just managing to yank our bags out of the door and he was starting to pick up my clothing. And... yup... he was eyeing my speedos. Great, just great.
"I'll just... take that." I coughed out in the sharpest most embarrassed whisper, plucking the bottle from the older kid's hand. I noticed that where he'd held it, the tips of his fingers were a little slick from a broken lid.
Tucking it immediately out of sight in my jeans pocket I beelined toward my shit and starting tossing things haphazardly into my suitcase. Tattoo-boy handed me three of the speedos, looking kind-of... well at least less hostile than before. Not looking back at the older student, I made my way toward the gleaming lobby elevators with their wooden plaques showing my room a floor or two higher up the building.
"Hey, new kid!" A familiar voice called.
Against my better judgment, glancing over my shoulder I made eye contact with the built guy; he hadn't moved an inch from his spot.