It's a warm Friday afternoon as Jake lies down on the couch, hands clasped behind his head. Staring up at the ceiling, the 20 years old mulls over whether his decision to stay in the dorm room doing nothing but lying on the couch is the right one. He sighs, realizing how boring his life must seem to an observer, and that the observer would probably be right in making such an assessment. Despite his roommate Ray trying to get him to go to parties, the young man just couldn't muster up the energy for it.
Suddenly, the roommate in question bursts into the room. The two men have become very close friends since the start of orientation when they arrived at the college. Ray is excitedly gasping, perplexing the bored Jake, interesting him enough to finally sit up and look over. "What is it?" he grumpily asks in that moody tone, signifying how he is really looking for some relaxation.
Ray sniggers, before telling the other guy "You've really got to get out of this room sometimes. Listen, you remember what I've told you about Claire?" Jake frowns at this slightly, trying to recall their previous conversations. He shakes his head slightly, making his friend sigh. "The blonde sorority chick with that amazing rack? Who's been seen blowing Tyrone's meat in the toilet by some of her pledge sisters?"
"Ah! That Claire," Jake realizes, now smirking at the already grinning man. "Finally succeeded in seducing her, have you?" Ray nods rapidly in answer, making his roommate smile with approval. "Well, congratulations buddy. I'll make myself scarce now so you can bring her over to blow her back out," Jake says, deciding to just head off campus and go to the local cafe to chill out for a while.
His roommate quickly stops him. "Oh, no, no, no. You don't have to. I can bring her over later. I know I've been pushing you to go outside for some time now but if you really want to stay in here and..." At this, Jake simply waves his hand with a dismissive air, gathering his wallet and phone, before turning to smile brightly at his roommate and best friend.
"No worries, man," he says, patting the taller guy on his shoulder, stuffing his wallet into his trouser's pocket. "You were right. I really do spend way too much time moping in this room. Just leave the good old sock on the doorknob so I don't walk in on your romp, okay?" Jake makes one request, not wanting to witness the sight of his friend having hot, passionate sex.
"Of course," Ray assures him as the smaller young man walks outside the door, making sure to close it behind him as he leaves. He sighs as he heads down the hallway, making his way past many other fellow college students living on the same floor. The man waves at some of them in a friendly way that comes naturally to him, being generally nice to other people for as long as he could remember.
Soon, Jake is outside the campus and nearing the small place he enjoys going to for dinner. With a grin on his face, he pushes the door open and enters the establishment, smiling at the ever so friendly manager and sitting at a table near the front. Ordering the same vanilla latte he always asks for, the boy begins to sip from the straw as he waits for his other order, the chicken salad, to arrive.
When it does, the boy starts forking the greens into his mouth eagerly, also enjoying the thin slices of chicken as well. The dressing is as lovely as always and that, along with the nice latte, is more than enough to convince him to leave a nice amount of tip. He smiles at the waitress as he leaves, walking away in a carefree manner, prancing about a little like he always did when he was a little kid.
He has only been skipping along for a bit though, before noticing something unusual. Or rather, someone. Lying on the ground in front of him is clearly a humanoid form. Most likely a woman, judging by the long, silky hair flowing halfway down her back. Jake tentatively approaches. Unsurprisingly, his assumption is proven correct as he gets a decent view of her face. And what a face it is.
She is obviously attractive, perhaps not in a conventionally beautiful way. Her features are hard and sharp, unforgiving, with the chiseled, a bit masculine-looking jawline that looks like it has been sculpted from marble. The black leather jacket and crop top fail to hide a muscled yet curvy and feminine body, with perfectly sized breasts and wide hips, and full, thick thighs.
Jake quickly shakes his head, getting rid of these perverted thoughts. Crouching down, he then notices a pool of blood gathering by her stomach. That explains why she looks so pale and weak, unable to get up. The woman, probably around his age, is still breathing, much to his relief. Feeling around slightly, he manages to locate what he believes to be her wound and places his hand firmly over it, pressing down and trying to slow down the bleeding.
"Wait for me," he says, trying to keep calm as he dashes over to the Walmart nearby. Grabbing a saline bottle, a pack of gauze, and a roll of tape, he quickly purchases all the objects, rushing back to the scene where she is still lying on the tarmac.
Without further ado, he pulls her shirt up enough to reveal the deep wound. Washing away the blood and cleaning around the site with the saline water, he places a gauze over the bleeding hole. Then the boy tapes it onto her skin, hoping this would buy enough time.
"Please, stay with me. Just wait for a minute," he tries to tell her in the most comforting voice. Then he reaches for his phone to call for an ambulance. Before he could do that though, she reaches up with one hand, grasping his wrist tightly. He is astounded by how firm and powerful her grip is, given the severe condition she appears to be in because of her injury. It feels like she could easily shatter the bone if she wanted to. There is something else about her appearance that is boggling him, but he couldn't determine just what.
The attractive brunette's vice-like grip loosens slightly as she notices the grimace on his face. "Sorry," she whispers in a raspy voice. Great. Now she sounds like she's dehydrated too. "But please, don't call 911." As soon as she finishes that sentence, the woman begins coughing violently, further alarming the boy. It's a good thing there's no blood on her hand from after she covered her mouth. That means her lung hasn't been punctured. One less thing to worry about.