This story is part of the Janie Does College series
I made my way down the ramp at the gate, trying to locate the baggage claim area, while also glancing into the faces welcoming the flight to the great State of Wisconsin. If only Seth carried a sign that read "JANIE" maybe finding him would be easier.
I waited, a bit nervously I'll admit, by the carrousel as the crowd cleared. I collected my luggage; time passed. Finally, when I was about to go find a payphone, he tapped me on the shoulder.
"Are you Janie?"
"Umโฆyeah," I said and whirled around. He was tall, lanky, with Elvis Costello glasses and a kind face. "Nice to finally meet you." I noticed him staring at my cleavage.
"You too," he nodded.
Seth was my internship mentor, a Graduate student at the University, in charge of helping me with my Bachelor's thesis project. I was pretty excited about the 10-week program: I would earn one course unit for my home campus, make $250/week, and I could stay in the dorms for free.
Seth, although geeky, seemed very sweet and helped me carry my luggage (including dive gear) to his beat-up old Acura. We made small talk and stopped by a fast-food joint before he dropped me off at the prison-esque dormitory.
After about an hour of checking in, completing paperwork, and taking a photo for my ID badge, I was allowed to see my room. It had been years since I had lived in a college dorm, so I wasn't really sure what to expect. The paperwork said I was on the 8th floor. The elevator doors paused briefly before surging open, allowing me to step out. A decent-sized common area greeted me. There was a wheezing 'fridge in a pseudo-kitchen, and a few old couches surrounding a circa-1989 TV. Oh, man, this is going to be a great summer, I said to myself sarcastically.
A few kids were scattered around the common room but I just smiled weakly at them before looking at the numbers on the doors. I moved cautiously down a hallway where three dorm rooms were clustered. A pay-phone looked lonely on the wall.
One door was open and I saw a woman bent over vacuuming. She didn't hear or see me, as her blonde ponytail swung around erratically. I checked the number on the door; this was it. My mouth opened to say hello, but the hellacious noise just drowned me out. So I just stood there watching her clean under the bed.
The woman had long legs, but they were not skinny. She had a fetching tan; I concluded she must either be half Latina, or she visited the tanning salon often. She had a mass of obviously bleached hair, cascading out of a looped pony-tail. Her ass was nice; like mine it bubbled out. Even better, she seemed to have a chest to match. She wore hideous yellow flip-flops with a fake daisy on each one.
As she righted herself, I must have scared her because she jumped when she realized someone was standing in the doorway.
"I think this is my roomโฆ" my voiced trailed off, overwhelmed by the noise.
We smiled at each other for a split-second, and I was greeted with dark almond-shaped eyes. My stomach felt a flutter of butterflies as sable eyes met sage ones. No, she must be an Islander, or Asian. Maybe a Kiwi?
She fumbled with the knobs on the ancient vacuum. When I could hear myself think again, I moved forward for a handshake.
"Hi, I'm Janie, and I think I'm your new roomie."
"Oh, nice to meet you!" she gushed, "I'm Mariah." I waddled past her with my luggage. Mariah continued to talk my ear off. "I've been here for about a week already; I drove all the way from San Diego. Wow, aren't you excited the internship starts tomorrow? Doesn't this dorm suck? We don't even have an oven in the building. And did you see that communal 'fridge? Gross! I'm renting a mini-'fridge."
I smiled at her. Was there an "off" button for her as well? At least she was entertaining. And she had a bigger valley-girl accent than mine!
We learned we had more in common that just being from California. Mariah and I had similar movie and music tastes. She loved to swim and was also a Piscean. As it tuned out, she was half German and half Filipino, so, we also had German Surnames in common.
There were differences too, of course. Mariah was 7 years older, and was working on her second Bachelor's degree. She was at least 5'11". With her platform flip-flops, she towered over me.
I was actually rather intimidated by her because she was strikingly beautiful. Mariah had gorgeous dark Asian eyes, high cheekbones, lovely thick lips, and a pearly smile. Her body matched her face in terms of good looks. Like me she had D-cup breasts, plenty of booty, and a pierced navel. I found myself attracted to her immediately.
I watched Mariah out of the corner of my eye as I put away my things. She was incredibly sexy and very animated. I worried my quickly-growing infatuation with her would get in the way of my studies.
"There's no sheets for the bed?" I asked with a combination of shock and irritation in my voice. "It's already past 7-o'clock, how am I supposed to get bedding?"
"I can take you to K-Mart" Mariah offered.
"You're my savior"
She smiled the brightest smile at me.
As the weeks progressed, Mariah and I became a team. Since there was no way to cook our own meals, and the cafeteria was only open for breakfast and lunch during the summer, we ate out together every night. I looked forward to our "dates" because I didn't get to see her at work. On the weekends we would swim laps at the campus pool or hang out by the Lake. She always wore a sexy little bikini and didn't seem to mind when she caught me staring.
On Friday nights we hit the bars and clubs, trying to pick up some cute men. They would all flock to Mariah since she was so hot, and she would get and give numbers, but curiously she never brought a man home.
I have to admit, I developed a huge crush on Mariah. When the lights went out, I would quietly stroke my pussy and imagine her on top of me. A few times I was afraid she heard me orgasm since her bed was only a few feet away from mine. Sometimes I would listen intently, trying to hear if she was masturbating too, but I never heard a thing.
One day, after work, I could tell Mariah was stressing over her internship project. As science often does, her results were the exact opposite of what she expected. Not only was she sulky and moody, she didn't seem like she wanted anyone to cheer her up. Annoyed with her negative attitude, I left the dorm.
I came back to the room after a trip to the campus library, and found her crying on the bed. Her legs were crossed and her head hung low. Her cheeks were crimson and her mascara was smeared under her eyes.