10 comments/ 7005 views/ 11 favorites Demographic Heterogeneity By: HectorBidon For my sophomore year of college I put in for a room assignment in Maynard Hall, and I got it. Maynard was one of the oldest dorms on campus, small, ivy covered, with a reputation for being studious and quiet. All of that suited me fine. I hadn't liked the rambunctiousness of my freshman dorm and was looking forward to a more grown-up and serious sophomore year. According to the computer printout, my roommate was somebody named Alex Bradley, also a sophomore, majoring in art history. As long as he was studious and quiet, I figured we should get along just fine. By dinner time on check-in day Alex still had not arrived. I chose one of beds and one of the desks and was in the midst of organizing a few of my things when there was a knock at the door. It was a young woman with dark blond hair and a big suitcase. She seemed a little surprised to see me there. She looked at the paper in her hand, and then at the room number on the door. "Two forty one?" she asked. Maybe it's Alex's girlfriend or sister, I thought. "Two forty one," I confirmed. "Here, let me give you a hand." "It's all right, I've got it." She came in and put the suitcase down by the empty desk. "I've still got a couple boxes downstairs." "I'll come and help." She was wearing blue jeans, a white top, and a black beret. She was almost as tall as I was, with a healthy complexion. Pretty, in a girl-next-door kind of way. "Our bus was delayed," she said as we headed down stairs, "But at least we made it." There were two boxes. I took the larger one. "Are you here in Maynard too?" she asked as I was closing the elevator gate. "Yeah," I replied. "I was in Kimberley last year, and didn't like it so much. I thought a smaller dorm might be more conducive to scholarly contemplation." Kimberley was the freshman dorm, a sprawling, raucous madhouse. "Me too," she smiled. "I'm so glad I got in." Not only does she know my roommate, but she lives in Maynard, too, I thought. The semester suddenly seemed a little brighter with the possibility of seeing her around. "So what room are you in?" I asked. "Two forty one," she replied. "I'm Alex Bradley." I stopped short. "You're Alex Bradley?" "Is there a problem?" "Well, it's just that I'm supposed to be in 241 too. I'm Tracy Kidwell. I thought maybe you were Alex's sister or girlfriend." She looked at me and then looked at her printout. Tracy Kidwell, sophomore, history. She looked back at me. "They don't put boys and girls together in the same room, do they?" she asked, afraid that maybe they did. "It's got to be a computer mix up. The check-in desk is closed for today, though. Let's see if we can find one of the RAs." We left the boxes in the hallway, found the RA, and explained the situation. He said we couldn't do anything to straighten it out until the morning, but that we should talk to the female RA on the first floor to make temporary arrangements for tonight. "Thanks, Tracy," Alex said. "I can take it from here." I put the boxes into 241 for safekeeping. Although this was every sophomore's fantasy, to get a female roommate, it surely never happened in real life. The computer must know the gender of every student. There must have been a human error somewhere along the line. Alex could be a boy's name or a girl's name. So could Tracy for that matter. Well, hopefully the RA would be able to straighten everything out. A few minutes later Alex knocked again. "Hi," she said, "It's just me, your roommate." She was making a joke, but she blushed all the same. "I'm going to stay with the RA tonight and try to figure things out in the morning. I just came for my suitcase." "I moved your boxes in here so they'd be safe." "Thanks. Do you mind if they stay here over night?" "No problem. In fact, when you think about it, I guess this is just as much your room as it is mine." "Thanks. I'm sure things will work themselves out." She had a pretty smile. --- The next day was Orientation and this and that, and I didn't run into Alex until the afternoon, coming back to the dorm. "Hi, Roomie," I called. "Any luck?" "Oh, hi," she said. "Not so much. Maynard is all full up, and, in fact, there's a waiting list. There are waiting lists for all the older dorms. The only place with any vacancies are Tressider and Kimberley." Tressider was the largest dorm on campus, and the biggest party dorm. "Even after you explained the mix up?" "Can you believe it? They were very apologetic, but they insisted that mistakes do happen. Since there are vacancies in other dorms, they didn't see it as a big problem." "That's not fair. They assigned you to Maynard, and now they're telling you that you can't live there?" "That's what they're telling me." "But wait a minute. You have as much right to 241 as I do. Maybe there are vacancies for guys. Then you could have 241 and I could move to another room." "I don't think there are," she said. "Still, let me check. Do you have someplace to stay tonight?" "I'm going to stay with a friend up at Tressider. Listen, you could do me a favor, though. Would it be OK if I kept my stuff in the room for one more night? I don't want to have to lug it all over campus." "Sure," I replied. "By the way, they gave me a key. I already brought my suitcase back up from the RA's room. I hope you don't mind." "It's your room too." At the room she opened her suitcase on the empty bed and transferred a few things to her backpack. "Look," I said. "I'm really sorry you're having to go through all this. I'll check tomorrow and see if there is anything I can do. If I don't run into you I'll leave you a note on the desk here." "OK," she said. "Thanks for being such a good sport." --- The more I thought about it, the guiltier I felt about hogging the room for myself and making Alex be the one who had to find other arrangements. But the next day at the Housing Office I had no better luck than she'd had. There just weren't any vacancies. They sympathized with our predicament, but they could not guarantee anyone his or her first choice of dorm. I explained that we only wanted the dorm that we'd already been assigned. They understood, but things were the way they were. It was an unfortunate situation, but there was nothing that could be done about it. I was thinking how to write this up for Alex, when she let herself in. "Hey, how's it going?" I asked. "I'm pretty bushed," she replied. "I've been back and forth across campus all day. The problem with being homeless is that you have no place to rest. I came for a fresh change of clothes and a chance to sit down. How about you?" "Well, you were right about the housing thing. I got the same answer you did. Vacancies in Tressider and Kimberley. No guarantee of a student's first choice. Blah, blah, blah." "That's what I was afraid of." "So how was Tressider?" "I imagine things will settle down once classes start. It is a bit schizophrenic, though, having to sleep on somebody different's floor every night." "I feel awfully bad about that. Maybe we could time-share this place. You could have it on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I could have it on Tuesdays and Thursdays." "What about the weekends?" "We'll rent it out on Air B&B." She laughed. "Listen, I was going to grab some dinner while I'm over on this side. Have you eaten yet?" I was still pretty shy around girls, but Alex was so open and friendly that it was impossible not to be open and friendly in return. It turned out that her father had stayed in Maynard Hall, back when it was an all male dorm, and had pointed it out to her on several visits when she was little. It's ivy covered walls and mullioned windows were imprinted on her memory as the epitome of higher education and the academic life. She loved art and was excited about her classes. She told me all about the cathedral of Notre Dame, the topic of her senior term paper in high school. I told her that I hadn't been able to decide between archeology and anthropology, and so had chosen history. We continued the conversation back up in 241, she on what should have been her chair, me on mine. She had an older sister and a younger brother; I had no sisters and three younger brothers. She lived on the edge of the country; I lived in the middle of the city. She'd studied French and could speak it fairly fluently; I'd studied Spanish but could hardly speak a word. She laughed easily; I couldn't help but laugh along. Tomorrow was the first day of classes, and it was starting to turn dark. "Yikes, look at the time," she said. "I guess I'd better be going. "Staying with your friend again?" I asked. "That's the plan," she said somewhat wearily. "Feel free to hang out here for a while if you like. There's an empty desk just going to waste. It has your name on it, in fact." "It's just that things are pretty hectic at my friend's place." "Then by all means. Look until we get things straightened out, you should feel free to use this room as your base of operation. You can keep your stuff here, use the desk, whatever. Just because I got here first doesn't make it any less your room than it is mine." "It wouldn't be an inconvenience?" "Seriously, it's your room as much as it is mine. I'm just going to do a little reading. Let me know if you need anything." She organized some of her paperwork, sorted through her boxes, and got some things ready in her backpack. Then she looked through some of her new textbooks. At about 10:30 I put down my book and got my toothbrush. "Oh, are you going to bed?" she asked. "Yeah, I think so. I want to be bright eyed and bushy tailed for the first day of class. You can stay a while, though, it won't bother me at all. You've got your key. In fact, you can even crash here tonight if you want. That bed's free." I hoped I sounded more man-of-the-worldly than I actually felt. "I could never do that," she replied. "Suit yourself," I said. But when I got back from the bathroom, she was still there. "The thing is, . . ." she said. "You don't even have to ask." "It just would make certain things a lot easier." "Do you need some sheets?" "No, I've got them here." "I think there's an extra blanket in your wardrobe." Once the bed was made, she took a pair of pajamas out of her suitcase. "The bathroom is down the hall?" "And to the left." "Could you leave my desk lamp on 'til I come back? I'll just be a couple of minutes." "Sure. I've got the alarm set for 7:00. Is that OK for you?" "Perfect, thanks." "Good night, then." "Night." Usually I slept in my underwear, but that night I just got in bed in my clothes. After a bit she came back and turned off her lamp. I heard her rustle the sheets. I couldn't go to sleep right away. It was titillating and a bit arousing to be sleeping in the same room with a pretty young woman. I lay very still so as not to disturb her or give her any reason for alarm. The dorm was quiet, except for a creak now and then. After a bit I could hear her breathing. It dawned on me that we could not let this room situation just keep going on from day to day. We would have to settle it, one way or the other. The gallant thing for me to do would be to move into one of those vacancies in Tressider. It wouldn't be the end of the world. --- When the alarm went off, Alex was already gone, but her suitcase was open, so I guessed that she had gone to the bathroom. Before too long there was a light knock on the door, and she used her key to come in. "Morning," she said. "Are you decent?" "Debatable," I replied. "Did you sleep well?" "Bright eyed and bushy tailed," she blushed. She was still wearing her pajamas. "I'm going to go take my shower now," I said. "I'll knock when I come back. When's your first class?" "Eight o'clock." "Mine too. Want to stop for breakfast on the way?" "All right." I picked out a comparatively clean tee shirt and took my soap, razor, and towel. When I got back, she was dressed in shorts and a blouse. We grabbed a quick bite at the dining hall. Her class was way across campus. We agreed to meet again for dinner and try to resolve the room situation. --- "Here's what I've been thinking." I'd come up with an idea, and all day long I had been trying to convince myself that it was worth a hearing. But, now that I was trying to put it into words, I was so nervous I was afraid my voice would quake. "You want to live in Maynard, and I want to live in Maynard. The housing office, in its infinite wisdom, has seen fit to grant us both our wish. So here's what I've been thinking. Why don't we just take them up on it. Let's keep the room. Both of us. Let's share it. We're grown ups. We've both had roommates before. Issues will undoubtedly come up due to our, well, demographic heterogeneity. But I'd like to think that we'll be able to work them out. It seems to me that the benefits of living in Maynard would well outweigh the inconveniences. We've already shared the room for one night, and it didn't go too badly. I think that we could pull it off." I noticed that one of my legs was bouncing up and down nervously. I was waiting for Alex to slap me. She didn't, but she didn't relax her brow, either. "Maybe it's a crazy idea," I said, finally. "I can't really tell if it is or not. Half of me is convinced that it is a perfectly logical thing to do. The other half is cringing about what you must think of me now." Alex weighed her fork. "The idea occurred to me, too," She said at last. "Like you say, it has its plusses and its minuses. Do you think they'd even let us get away with it?" "The wheels of bureaucracy grind pretty slowly in my experience," I replied. "Besides, according to the computer printouts, everything is hunky dory. Tracy and Alex, room 241." "But we told the people at the housing office." "It's hard for me to believe that they would do anything if they didn't hear back from us." "The thing is," she said, "the 'heterogeneity,' as you put it. Roommates are always getting thrown in together without really knowing each other. But this is not exactly like me being from Kansas and you being from New York City. I'm sure there are plenty of good reasons why they don't put boys and girls together. I'm just not sure that things would be so easy." "Well, I'm sure you're right," I admitted. "I'd just like to think that whatever came up wouldn't be insurmountable. I guess I'm just mainly upset about how unfair it is that they put us into this situation in the first place. Sharing the room just seems like a way that we both could win." "I know what you're saying," she said. "I'm just concerned about the fine print." "If things didn't work out, we could always change our mind." "I guess." "Listen, why don't we leave it to you to decide," I said. "Here's what I suggest. You decide. If you think we should try, we'll give it a try. If you think not, then you can have the room and I'll take a room at Tressider." "That wouldn't be fair. We'll have to both decide. And if we decide not to, we'll flip a coin to see who gets to keep the room. OK?" "OK," I said. "I vote to try." "Let's both wait and see how we feel about it tomorrow. I'll stay one more night as another sort of trial run, and we'll make the final decision tomorrow." I felt exhilarated and terrified all at the same time. --- Back at the room, Alex started unpacking one of her boxes. I took that as a promising sign, but I felt a bit in the way. I took my book down to the Hall lounge. When I came back, she had on her pajamas and was sitting at her desk with a stack of notebooks. "Getting things squared away?" I asked. "Trying to," she said. I checked my schedule and got things ready for the next day. "I'm going to turn in," I said. "Do you always sleep in your clothes?" she asked. "Sometimes," I lied. --- We were both kind of busy the next day and didn't run into each other. I waited for her to come for dinner, but she didn't show up. I tried to work out the real reasons I wanted for us to be roommates. Part of it was wanting to stay in Maynard. But I was also just so intrigued by the idea of sharing a room with someone of the opposite sex, and with Alex in particular. I liked her, she seemed to like me. And she was a girl. Being roommates would create an instant relationship. Even if we weren't really boyfriend and girlfriend there would just be something so intimate, so sweet, about sharing the same dorm room, studying together, hanging out together, just doing the things that roommates do together. And, I have to admit, I couldn't help but think that living together as roommates might eventually lead to something more, to us really becoming boyfriend and girlfriend, perhaps even some day living together as a real couple. Of course I couldn't share any of these feelings with Alex. Was that being dishonest? Maybe. When Alex finally came back to the room that night, I'd already gone to bed. I wasn't asleep, but I pretended to be. The next day the opposite thing happened. I got talking with some friends and came back pretty late. Alex was already in bed. I tried not to disturb her, but I bumped into my chair. "Go ahead and turn on the light," she said in a soft voice. "Sorry," I whispered. I got undressed in the dark. Out of habit I took my pants off too and got under the covers. But then the light turned on. I turned on my side to see her. She was in her pajamas, sitting up in her bed. "We need to talk," she said. "Yeah," I said. "Sorry about that. I waited for you to come for dinner, and then I got caught up with some friends." "We're kind of just letting this roommate thing happen by default," she said. "We shouldn't do it that way. We should either decide we're going to do it, or we should figure out what we're going to do instead." I sat up and turned around to face her. I was just in my underwear, so I put my pillow on my lap. "Yeah. You're right," I said. "We haven't even seen each other the last two days. Is that the way things are going to be?" She was actually getting a little emotional, as if she'd been thinking about these things even before I got there. Her voice was quivering. "If we're going to be roommates, we should be real roommates. We shouldn't feel like we have to avoid each other. We shouldn't have to feel uncomfortable being in the same room together. We should just try to live together normally. Like real roommates." She was actually holding back tears. I didn't quite know how to react. I hadn't been trying to avoid her. Things had just happened. "Um, I know I got back late today, but I was here all evening yesterday, kind of waiting for you, in fact." She sniffed. "I'm sorry. I'm just . . . I didn't have a very good experience last year. My roommate wasn't much of a roommate. She had her own friends and spent most of her time with them. It just . . . it wasn't what I thought college would be like. And now it's happening again, and you're a boy, and . . ." She was practically crying again. I felt in way over my head emotion-wise. Should I try to comfort her, put my arm around her? In my underwear? It didn't seem like a very good idea. "Look, Alex, I'm really sorry about your roommate last year. It sounds like it wasn't a very pleasant experience. But not all roommates are like that. My roommate and I got along pretty well. Sometimes I wished he'd go away for a bit, but really we got along pretty well. We would have stayed together this year, but he wasn't too keen on Maynard. We're still friends, though." She was listening to what I was saying, tears glistening in her eyes. "I'm sure you and me can be like that. Things have been kind of hectic these first couple of days, but we're getting along pretty well. We talk about things. We're talking now. I do have other friends, but I don't see them all the time. I certainly haven't been trying to avoid you. I really like you. I think it'll be fun to be roommates. I don't feel uncomfortable. I mean, it is still a bit weird being a boy and a girl, but we're doing all right. I think we'll do just fine." It was the longest string of sentence I'd probably ever strung together in my whole life. Demographic Heterogeneity She sniffled and smiled a weak smile. "God," she said, "I must sound like a blubbering idiot. Thanks for telling me all that, Tracy. It's really sweet." She sniffled again. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, we won't just be sharing a room, we'll be sharing a whole year of college. And I just . . ." She couldn't go on. I managed to reach over to my backpack on the floor without dislodging my pillow. I pulled out the housing form. "Alex and Tracy," I read. "Roommates. It says so right here. The computer, at least, thinks our chances will be about as good as any other pair of random students." I looked up at her. "You had some bad luck last year. That was too bad. But things will be better this year. I think our chances are pretty good." I was still trying to buck her up, but, truth be told, I wasn't sure how I felt about this emotional outburst. I knew girls were more emotional than guys, but I didn't have a lot of personal experience. Is this what I was going to have to put up with for the whole school year? At the same time, I felt such a strong desire to be there for her, to comfort her, to be the one she could depend on. "So why don't we see how it goes?" I said, in my most reassuring voice. "I'm sure you'll get sick of me eventually, but for now, why don't we just see how it goes?" Her tears were mostly gone. "OK," she said, in a little girl voice. The occasion seemed to call for something. I stood up. I took a step toward her bed. I had no idea what I would do when I got there. She stood up too. She took a little step toward me. She gave me the briefest hug---an arm's length, pat-on-the-shoulders hug. I gave her a pat-on-the shoulders hug back. It was about as awkward as could be, but we did it, me in my underwear, she in her pajamas, and then we hastily retreated back to our own beds. "So it looks like we're both going to get to live in Maynard this year," I said. "Yeah," she sniffed. "It looks like." --- During the first couple of weeks, we went out of our way to spend some time with each other every day, making a point to either go to dinner together or to be together in the room for a bit in the afternoon or at least at bedtime. As we got more settled in to our routines, this became more and more natural. The fact is, she was a pretty neat person, and I did like her a lot. It was fun to be roommates with her. She always liked to tell me all the details of her day, and she liked to hear the details of mine. She would tell me about her teachers, about some of the characters in her classes, about the dorm floor gossip, about how she felt about this or that. I did my best to keep up my end of the conversation. She was a little moody once in a while, but who isn't? Mostly I just really liked the way that she enjoyed our little chats. Our ongoing commentary made the whole course of sophomore year seem exciting and important. At first we were hypersensitive about each other's privacy. The trickiest part was getting dressed and undressed. Usually, Alex would change in the bathroom, but that was way down at the end of the hall. Sometimes it was more convenient for her to dress in the room, and I would step outside until she was finished. I usually tried to change my clothes while she was out, and would ask her to wait a second if I wasn't quite ready when she came back. It was a little awkward, but we bent over backward to be sure everything was always scrupulously aboveboard. It didn't always work. One time by accident I caught the briefest glimpse of her with her bathrobe partially open, and she saw that I had seen her. Neither of us said anything, but we were both pretty embarrassed. One day I came back from the shower wearing just my towel. She was working at her desk. She started to collect her things to step outside, but I could tell that it was an unwanted disruption. "Just don't look," I said. I turned my back to her, pulled a pair of boxers up under the towel, then dropped the towel and pulled on a pair of jeans. My ears were burning, but it wasn't the end of the world. "Just don't look" became our slogan. We still did our best to respect each other's privacy, but we stopped worrying so much that the other would be so easily scandalized. She would change on her side of the room, me on mine, much as we would have in front of a roommate of our own gender. We didn't flaunt anything, we faced away, but we didn't go overboard trying to hide everything either. Eventually the whole business became pretty matter-of-fact. We trusted each other with the "just not looking" part, although I confess I did steal a glance once or twice, and I think she probably did too. In a lot of ways, living with Alex wasn't that much different than living with a male roommate. We'd get up, go to class, grab a bite, hang out with friends, catch each other coming and going, study late, oversleep. There were some differences, though. Once, when Alex wasn't feeling so well, I had to go next door and borrow some tampons. That was kind of embarrassing. We also shared doing the laundry, and since it was so easy to tell whose clothes were whose, we usually just dumped everything in together. I got pretty good at folding bras and panties. We had our disagreements, like all roommates do. She thought I ought to be able to do a better job of putting my dirty clothes in my laundry bag instead of all over the floor. I wasn't a big fan of the stuffed animals she kept on her bed and on her desk. She liked to keep the window cracked, no matter how cold it got outside. I thought that was a big waste of energy. But we accommodated, like all roommates do. Whenever I came in I'd shove the window a little bit further closed, whenever I left, she'd shove it a little bit further open. We didn't try to hide our situation from anybody. All of our friends knew, as did all of the people on the floor. Some of them were a little envious, but it really wasn't that big of a deal. We just told people that we'd been assigned to the same room. Except for our parents, of course. Hers came to visit one weekend. Alex talked to them at least a couple times a week, and she'd told them quite a few things about her roommate, in a non-gender-specific kind of way. We figured that the best thing would be for me to stay with one of my friends and take some of my most blatantly non-feminine stuff along with me. She told her parents I was away for the weekend. She really wanted me to meet them, but it was just too dicey. During those first weeks, I often experienced a vivid sense of unreality whenever I looked across the room and saw Alex asleep in her bed, or whenever she came back from the shower wrapped in her towel, or whenever we came back from the dining hall or the library together and one of us opened the door and both of us went in. It just didn't seem possible that I could be sharing a room with such a lovely, graceful, bewitching, alien creature. Someone would find out. Tensions would develop. One way or another things would go wrong. But they never did. The days went by. We went to class. We went to meals. We did our homework. Friends dropped by. We lay on our beds and talked about this and that. We were just two people sharing a room. She was as serious and studious a roommate as I could have asked for. I tried my best to be her ideal faithful companion. By every consideration, the computer had picked a happy, successful match. --- One day when I came back from my shower, Alex was trying to adjust the shelf in her wardrobe. She was trying to move it down one notch, but without unloading it first. She was holding the shelf up with one hand and taking a peg out with the other, but the stuff on the shelf was heavier than she thought and it started to topple. I ran over to help, and in the process, I lost my towel. So I was standing there, in front of her wardrobe, with both arms up supporting the shelf, practically embracing her, completely naked, exposed as I could be, and not really able to do anything about it. Alex kind of froze, looking right down at my penis, unable to figure out what to do. "Better unload the rest of the stuff," I suggested. She began to take things down, having to duck under my arm and practically brush against me with each load. When the shelf was empty, I lowered it down. Then I picked up my towel and put it back around my waist. I helped her move the other pegs and then replace the shelf. We treated the incident like we had the open bathrobe, both of us being too polite to mention it. But it came up that night when we were lying in bed. "I'm really sorry about the shelf business," she said. "You could have hurt yourself." "I know. It was dumb. Thanks for rescuing me." "I hope I didn't gross you out." "The towel? I guess it was inevitable that sooner or later one of us was going to see the other without any clothes on." "Well, I guess you won. I hope it didn't traumatized you for life. Perhaps it's a sign that we should stop and reconsider whether this whole roommate business is really working out." "I'll tell you a secret, if you promise not to make fun of me." "Of course not." "It was the first time I've ever seen a boy naked." "Really?" "In real life, anyway." "You're a real woman of the world now." "You've probably seen lots of naked girls." "Um, not really. Not in real life. If you promise not to laugh." She considered that for a second. "You weren't really being serious about reconsidering, were you? I think things are working out pretty well. Better than I thought they would." "Yeah, I guess I think so too" I agreed. "So shall we just keep on cohabitating?" "I say we just stick with our assigned roommates." "OK with me," I replied, "I've had worse." --- One day Alex came in drenched to the bone. "It's raining cats and dogs out there," she said. "I got caught at the library without an umbrella or anything. I waited and waited but there just wasn't a break. Finally I just had to make a run for it." "You better go take a hot shower to warm up," I said. "I'm going to. I just need to get out of these wet clothes." I turned away to let her undress. "Is it ever going to stop?" she asked. She put on her bath robe and took her wet things with her to wring them out in the bathroom. When she came back it was raining even harder. It was getting close to the end of the dinner hour. "Jeeminee. I really don't want to go out in this again. Maybe I'll just skip dinner." "I'll go and bring some stuff back," I said. My parka was fairly rain proof. She handed me her umbrella. "Take this too." I was able to cut through one of the other residence halls, but still I got pretty wet. I got some stuff to make sandwiches, some cookies, and some fruit and put it in my pockets. The food stayed relatively dry, but my pants and socks were soaked by the time I got back. Alex had put on some sweats. She spread a little cloth on her bed and set things out like a picnic while I changed into a different pair of jeans. Then we sat on the bed and ate. She told me about how her day had gone. The rain had slackened off a bit, but it was still coming down in a steady pour. We began to hear thunder. "At this rate, we may have to build an ark," she said. "If we do, I say we leave off the possums," I said. "Don't you like possums?" "Have you ever seen one? That thick hair sticking out every which way, that rat tail?" "Oh, they're cute. They carry the little ones around. Besides, orders are orders. Two of everything. That includes possums." Suddenly there as a huge lightning flash outside the window, and, in less than the blink of an eye, a deafening thunder clap. The lights went out, even while the thunder was still reverberating. It was pitch black in the room. Not a speck of light came in from the window or from the hallway. "Are you all right?" I asked. I couldn't see her at all. "I'll let you know when my heart starts beating again," she said from the darkness. You could start to hear people yelling and making noise down the hall. Alex must have gotten up, because I felt her hand feeling along the bed. "I've got a candle if I can find it." There was the sound of rummaging through her desk. "But nothing to light it with." "Let me see if I can borrow something," I said. I felt for her, then held her arm as I got up off the bed to avoid a collision. I felt my way around her toward where the door should be. The RA was in the hallway with a flashlight, checking to see if everyone was all right. I was able to borrow a lighter from Stacey next door. Alex had found the candle, a small but fat one in a round glass bowl. We lit it, and put it on her desk. Compared to the blackness, it gave enough light to see by. We hadn't finished the food. I'd been sitting at the foot of the bed, but I had to lean back toward the window and the drumming rain so as not to block the light. "Scoot over this way," said Alex, and so I scooted down more toward her. "It's like camping out," I said. "Yeah," she said. "The rain beating against the tent, but we're safe and dry inside." I peeled one of the oranges and gave her half. The flickering candlelight made the room seem smaller and more intimate, as if we really were camping out. There was a knock on the door and Stacey and Beverley popped their heads in. "What are you guys up to?" they asked. "Just sitting here in the dark," I replied. "It looks like the whole south quad is without power," said Beverley. "You can't see any of the dorms, not even the street lights." "Do they know how long it will be out?" "Not that we've heard." They came in and we moved over to my bed so everyone could sit down. "At least we have an excuse for not doing our homework tonight," said Beverley, eating one of the cookies. It was cozy talking by the light of the candle, but after a bit Stacey got up. "OK, we're going to continue with our rounds," she said. "Good night, you guys." "Night." Alex had brought her pillow and was leaning back against the wall. I took mine and leaned back next to her. It seemed later than it really was. The candle was getting toward the end. "Doesn't it seem like it's getting kind of cold in here?" she asked. "Hmm," I said. "I suppose the heat is out too." I stood up and pulled the end of the blanket off the bed. She lifted herself up to let me get it out from under her. I spread it over her. "Want to get mine, too?" she asked. I did, and spread it over her too. Then I got back in beside her. We were sitting side by side, leaning back against our pillows on the wall, the opposite of the way I usually slept. "That's better," she said. "Could you pass the marshmallows?" "Do you ever go camping?" "I did in boy scouts. Not so much any more." "We just go out behind our house. The woods comes right down. We always have a tent set up back there in the summer time." We sat in silence for a while. The flickering light made the room seem smaller, more intimate, as if the whole rest of the world had disappeared. "The candle won't last much longer. We should probably do anything we need to do." She slid down so that her head was on the pillow, her knees still up. "Would you mind terribly much if I slept here with you tonight? I know it's silly, but I get a little scared sometimes by the darkness and the thunder." "Sure," I replied. "It'll be like we're still camping out." We adjusted the blankets and the pillows. The flame was guttering. I blew it out. I settled down into the bed, and Alex settled beside me. We were both in our clothes under the blankets. It was plenty cozy. A tight fit, but not too tight. I turned on my side, facing her. I think she did the same. I strained to see her. "I can't even tell you're there," I said. "I know. It's like one hundred percent pure blackness." "Are you OK then?" She reached out to touch me and felt her way to take my hand. "Yeah. Thanks. " She gave my hand a squeeze, and then drew hers away again. Sometime in the middle of the night the lights came back on. Somewhere down the hall, an MP3 player came back to life. I got up to turn off the light. Alex squinted, but made no effort to go back to her own bed. So I just turned off the light and got back in beside her. --- Alex talked me into signing up with her for a beginning ballroom dance class. It met two evenings a week in the ballroom at the student center. The instructors were a husband and wife, middle aged, a bit short and a bit round, but quite dapper and genteel with a polished and highly entertaining repartee. There were eight couples in the class, and we would stand around in a big circle. Mr. Duffy would demonstrate the basic steps with Mrs. Duffy: step-step-glide, step-step-glide, and then we would all try: step-step-glide, step-step-glide. Then he would put on some music and we would try it to the music. Then he would announce: "Gentlemen! Please move down one position to your next lovely partner," and we would rotate around. Over the course of the evening, all the gentlemen would dance with all the ladies and all the ladies would dance with all the men. It was nice that way, because you sometimes learned little things with another partner that you never quite realized with your own. Dancing with other partners also made you feel much more secure about dancing in general. You got so you could take a lady's hand in yours, put your other hand on her shoulder blade, stand well within her personal space, look pleasantly into her eyes, and share with her the exciting twists and perambulations of the samba walk or the cha-cha-cha. All the other participants were students except for one youngish professor and his wife, and it seemed that that all the students except Alex and me were boyfriends and girlfriends. A couple of the women were really cute, and the professor's wife was drop-dead gorgeous, although she always played it down for class. And I got to dance with with them all, two times a week. Alex downloaded the music, and we would practice some of the steps in our room too. The foxtrot, the rumba, the waltz. It was intimate standing together, holding each other, alone in the room. But at the same time it was just good clean fun. The class went on for four weeks, and then there was a "graduation dance" on Friday night. Alex wore a pretty dress---the first time I'd ever seen her in a dress. The event was open to the general public, so there were quite a few good dancers there in addition to the couples from the class. Mr. Duffy was the affable emcee, and he generously let us beginners know when it was safe to sally forth, and when it was better for us to sit and watch. Alex and I sat with some of the other couples from the class. The professor's wife wore a striking outfit in black and scarlet with a captivating decolletage. She was by far the most beautiful woman on the dance floor. One of the Fred Astaire types asked her to dance a number with him. He twirled her around, and it seemed to me that she twirled back with just a bit more panache than you might have expected after only a month's worth of lessons. And with just a little more glow in her cheek than she'd exhibited in her husband's arms. I couldn't help but steal a glance his way. He was watching her, stoically. I wished them well. After the dance a bunch of us went to the snack bar, not wanting the night to end. We laughed and reminisced about some of the funnier moments in class. The professor's wife was lively and vivacious and everybody was in love with her. But she only had eyes now for the professor, eyes and hands and arms, and the two of them took their leave well before any of the rest of us, the professor's scowl having melted into a boyish grin. Demographic Heterogeneity Alex and I walked back to the dorm hand in hand. We'd often done things together, gone to the show or taken a walk around campus, but this was our first outing that could have been considered a real date. She was so happy, swinging her arm, continuing the happy chatter from the snack bar. When we got back to the dorm I hesitated before unlocking the door. "I kind of wish we lived in separate rooms," I said. She looked at me quizzically. "Because then I could give you a goodnight kiss." She regarded me shyly, so I kissed her. My hands at my side, her hands at her side, I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. She puckered back. It was the kind of chaste goodnight kiss that even her parents would not have frowned upon. The kind that didn't generate even an ounce of romantic momentum. "I had so much fun tonight, didn't you?" she chattered on as I fiddled with the key. "Thanks for putting up with the lessons. I had such a good time." She waltzed around our little space, but it was pretty clear that the romance she was re-living was all to do with the ballroom and the music and the swirling dancers, not any one partner in particular. She needed help with her zipper. She hung her dress in her wardrobe. When she turned, in just her panties and bra, I guess I was kind of staring. She crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a chiding "just don't look" frown. Playfully, but seriously. I looked away as she finished putting on her pajamas. --- I threw a little party for Alex on her birthday. We just had it in the room, with some of the people from the dorm and a few of her other friends. It was a relatively simple affair, but a happy one, and she seemed to enjoy it quite a bit. I had gotten her an emergency flashlight and a bouquet of flowers. Most of the other gifts were likewise small or funny. But Stacey and Beverley gave her a beautifully wrapped box, all white ribbons and bows. When she opened it up the box said "Victoria's Secrets." "It was the only box you could find, right?" Alex laughed. But inside the tissue paper was---I don't even know what you call it, a negligee I suppose. It was lacy and really pretty, not gaudily sexy, but quite sheer. I couldn't imagine her ever wearing it. I couldn't tell whether it had been intended as a gag gift or a real one. "Try it on," said one of the boys. More laughter. Alex held it up in front of her and turned this way and that as if she were modeling it. It would have barely contained her breasts, and it came just a few inches below her waist, just barely below the crotch of her jeans. I couldn't tell if it was supposed to be worn as just a top, or as a whole nightgown without anything else. Either way it wouldn't have hidden much. Alex was blushing, but laughing along with everyone else. It was a school night, and so people didn't stay too late. Alex hugged everyone affectionately as they were leaving. She gave everyone, boys and girls, a little kiss. Then it was just the two of us left. Alex was still glowing from all the attention she had received, and a bit sad that it was over. "The party was wonderful," she said. "Thanks so much." She kissed me on the cheek. I gave her a little hug. "Happy birthday," I said. She looked at a few of her gifts. She picked up the negligee and held it in front of herself again, looking at herself in the mirror. I was in the corner of the mirror. I came up behind her and put my arms around her. She dropped the negligee on the bed and just stood for a second, the two of us looking at ourselves in the mirror. "Did you make a wish?" I asked her. "Yes," she replied, "but it's a secret." "Well, I hope it comes true." We stood in silence for a while. But when it seemed that I had been hugging her about as long as a roommate could reasonably hug a roommate on her birthday, I gently let her go. We got ready for bed, each on our separate sides of the room. I got into my bed, she turned out the lights. But instead of getting into her bed, she came over to mine. "Do you think I could have just one more little cuddle?" I scooted over and opened up the blanket for her to get in next to me. She got in and lay her head on the pillow. I let the blanket back down over the two of us. "This was one of my nicest birthdays ever," she said. "I'm glad it worked out so well." She looked at me. Somehow, instinctively, I realized it was the way that a girl looks when she wants to be kissed. So I moved my head closer. She puckered her lips, and I put mine against them, feeling their firm texture. She had her arms crossed in front of her. I put my arm around her and held her close. She gently broke off the kiss, and settled herself more cozily into my embrace, her head against my cheek and shoulder. I moved my hand down to the small of her back. I didn't try to hide my erection. I wasn't sure if she wanted more. The way we were lying together seemed so pure. A hug and kiss on her birthday. After a minute or so, she started to disengage. "Thanks," she said, softly. "You can stay." "I'd better go." She gave me another little kiss on the lips, and then got up from the bed. "Sleep tight," she whispered. "You too, Alex. Happy birthday." --- The school year kept moving along, the way school years do. I couldn't have asked for a better roommate than Alex. She and I were always talking about the ideas that had come up in our classes, to the point that it sometimes seemed like we were both doing a double major. She'd show me the pictures they were studying, pointing out the themes and details to pay attention to in a Giotto or a da Vinci, a Monet or a Van Gogh. I explained De Morgan's law and reductio ad absurdum, the arrival of Zen Buddhism, the first hundred days of the New Deal. We proofread each other's papers and quizzed each other on dates and vocabulary. We decorated the walls with art posters: Botticelli's Primavera, Van Gogh's Starry Night, Maxfield Parrish's Ecstasy (which I couldn't leave the bookstore without, and which Alex didn't object to). We went to talks and exhibits and sometimes sat in on each other's classes, just to get a taste of them. From a scholarly contemplation point of view it was everything I wanted sophomore year to be. But there was always something else hanging there just slightly out of reach. I'd never given up the dream that the two of us might eventually establish a more intimate relationship. But it was hard to tell if we were making any progress. I was never sure exactly what my feelings for her were. I loved being with her, I loved her being part of my life. But was that just the way things worked between mixed-gender roommates? Or was I really falling in love with her? It was hard to tell what her true feelings were for me. She clearly liked me a lot in a roommate sort of way. But I couldn't tell how she felt about me in a boy / girl sort of way. She seemed somewhat timid to physical closeness. She enjoyed the dancing and the occasional horsing around, but the two times I'd kissed her she'd been very reserved. A little warmth, perhaps, but no spark. Was that just a shy reticence that my perseverance might eventually overcome? I knew I wasn't the handsomest fellow around, or the most athletic, or the most engaging. But I did think of myself as reasonably sociable, reasonably good humored, reasonably fun to be around. I kind of hoped that by just being myself these positive qualities might add up to something in her eyes. But if it was working at all, it was taking its time. --- One day we were next door with Stacey and Beverley and a guy they knew. He'd just learned of our situation. "So you guys can just go at it whenever you want, twenty-four seven," he said, incredulously. "That's pretty sweet." Neither Alex nor I said anything. "I mean, you guys do fuck, don't you?" "That's not really any of your business," I said. He gave me a look of dawning recognition. "You're shitting me!" He looked at Alex, who was blushing for all she was worth. He turned to Stacey. "Are they for real? They live together in the same dorm room and they don't even fuck?" "Jesus, Don," said Stacey. "Dude," he asked me, "seriously, how can you be in the same room with someone as hot as Alex going around naked all the time and not get turned on?" "God, Don," said Stacey. "Do you go around naked all the time in your dorm room?" "I sure as hell would if I lived with Alex." "Well, maybe not everyone is as big a pervert as you are." "Pervert? What's perverted about that? It's human nature. I don't know, Alex. If he's really not fucking you, he's either gay or retarded. Listen, if you were my roommate we'd have so much fun every night. You're more than welcome to come over some time and see what you've been missing." "Yeah, right," laughed Stacey. "It's just human nature, that's all I'm saying. You put two red-blooded college students of the opposite sex together in the same room for more than fifteen minutes and they're going to fuck. Isn't that right, Beverley?" "I wouldn't know about that," replied Beverley in an embarrassed laugh. "Listen, Stacey," continued Don, "if they can do it, why can't we? Create our own little computer mix up. Don and Stacey, that's what my printout says. How about you, Beverley? Shall we make it a threesome? Or you can move in with my roommate Steve if you want. He's pretty red-blooded too." "God, Don" said Stacey, "You're a real piece of work." "Baby, you know it. You and me, roommates. It was meant to be. What a party pad we'll turn this place into. Think of the space we'll save by only needing one bed." --- Don's harangue left me feeling violated and sordid. Whatever Alex and my relationship was, we'd built it ourselves, and it had been private, between the two of us. Now it felt as if Don had broken into our room, tracked dog excrement all over it, and left the door open for the whole world to see. It wasn't bad enough that he'd said those things in front of me, but he'd said them in front of Alex and the girls. Alex was upset too. "Oogh," she vented back in 241. "Is that what people think?" "He's a jerk," I said. "He was just trying to get a rise out of us." "Stacey and Beverley wondered the same thing though. Whether we . . . you know. We were talking the other day, and they asked me whether we did." "What did you tell them?" "The truth." "I just couldn't see telling Don the truth. He would have made it sound bad no matter what I said." "Is it what you think too, though?" she asked. "That people who live together should have sex." "No, of course not." "Do you ever think about it?" "Having sex? I'm a guy. I think about it." "The two of us?" Her look was so earnest. "I . . . don't let myself. I put it out of my mind." My voice kind of quavered. My ears were burning. Because it was the truth. I didn't rule out the possibility of us having sex some day, but out of respect for her, and, I guess, out of fear of jinxing it, I never dwelt on it. She looked at me as if she was seeing me for the first time. I couldn't tell if she believed me that I put it out of my mind or not. In a sense it didn't matter. We weren't little kids. Maybe we'd been pretending to be, but we weren't. Don was right. I was a man. She was a woman. Even if I didn't dwell on thoughts of sex, they were never far away. "Do you think about it?" I asked. She blushed. "I put it out of my mind too." She turned away. It was a new side of her I'd never seen either. In all our time as roommates we'd told secrets, but only the ones we'd told. We'd shared feelings, but only the ones we'd shared. --- The whole business with Don made me very self conscious about my masculinity. He was right. Alex was a very attractive woman, and I was quite attracted to her. But you wouldn't know it by the way I acted around her. It's not that I admired Don's raunchy style, but he did have a vitality about him, a manliness, that all the girls had responded to. I'd been telling myself that the best way to be an honest roommate to Alex was just by being myself. But apparently the mild-mannered, bookish type didn't exactly sweep her off her feet. I was going to have to man up. To let her see that I was as red blooded as the next guy, and that I was crazy about her. Finally I hit upon a plan. Mr. and Mrs. Duffy were having an Evening of Dance. There would be a short refresher class followed by two hours of ballroom dancing. I thought this would be something that Alex would really like. It would be a fun date for the two of us. It would get us out of the room, into a romantic setting, and this time I'd be more forthright, more manly. I'd come out and tell her what was in my heart, how much I wanted us to be boyfriend and girlfriend. She would see that all my previous hesitation had just been dormitory civility, but that underneath my heart beat only for her. I'd sweep her off her feet, I'd kiss her, a real kiss, my arms around her, holding her tight, and she would feel the temperature of my ardor. The plan wasn't perfect. The dance was on Thursday, a school night, during the hectic last week of classes. The hall was downtown, and we'd have to take the bus to get there. Obstacles, surely, but not insurmountable ones. I told Alex about the dance. Wouldn't it be fun? We could go to a nice restaurant in town first. It would be an adventure. But she was only lukewarm about the idea. She had a paper due on Friday, and finals began on Monday. Wouldn't it be better to plan to do something after finals? But we'd both be going home for the break right after. What about next semester? Oh, Alex! Reluctantly she agreed to go. On Monday her Earth Science teacher scheduled a review session for Thursday evening at the exact time of the refresher class. It wasn't mandatory, but this was the one subject she was having the most trouble with. Just go, I told her. It would be all right. We'd have to skip the lesson and the restaurant, but we'd still we'll have fun at the dance. . On Wednesday I went into town to buy a corsage. The lady explained that a gardenia would be just the thing. She told me to keep it refrigerated. I hadn't planned on that. I wanted to surprise Alex, so I asked Stacey to keep it for me. She got all excited. I tried to downplay it---just a little get together of the dance class. She thought we could probably get away without refrigeration for just one day. Thursday turned out to be a hectic day for both Alex and me. We missed each other at lunch, then she didn't come back to the room until after six, but she had to rush right off again to talk to someone about a project before her Earth Science review. "What about dinner?" "I'll eat a big breakfast tomorrow." I went down and made us some sandwiches to eat on the bus. They had paper bags you could take, but when I got back to the room, there were big grease stains. I looked around but couldn't really figure out what else to do. Maybe Alex would have an idea. I put on my sports coat and tie. I wanted tonight to be really special. I rehearsed in my mind how thing would go. They usually have a little intermission to give people a chance to rest. There was sure to be a veranda or an outdoor courtyard where we could walk. I'd silhouette myself against the stars and tell her how much she meant to me. And I'd kiss her. Or should I kiss her first? Seven thirty came. I suddenly remembered the gardenia. Nobody was home next door. Beverley finally came around eight. She admired my get up and fetched the flower. It had started to turn a little brown. Not brown brown, but not the pristine white it was supposed to be. She wasn't sure whether it was still wearable or not. Eight fifteen, eight thirty. The bus would take half an hour, but it only ran every half hour, so depending on when we got to the bus stop, it might take us almost an hour to get downtown. Finally Alex rushed in. "I'm so sorry. Can we still make it?" "Just barely." "Let me get dressed." I turned around while she changed. No time to shower. I showed her the gardenia. She said it was fine and had me pin it on, but it still looked a little sad to me. We put on our coats. I'd forgotten to do anything about the sandwiches, so I just stuffed them into my coat pocket. The bus stop was clear across campus. When we got there I checked the schedule. We'd missed the bus by five minutes. The next one wouldn't be until nine fifteen. By the time we got downtown the ball would be practically over. "Maybe the bus is running late," Alex suggested. We waited ten minutes, shuffling in the cold. No bus. Even if the next one was right on time we'd still miss the intermission. OK. I'd have to improvise. I looked at her. She looked exhausted, more ready for bed than for a night on the town. "Maybe the dancing isn't going to work out," I said. "I'm sorry. It's just turned out to be a bad night for it." "Yeah." That's what she'd been trying to tell me all along. "But look, I've got some sandwiches." I pulled out the greasy bag. The sandwiches were all squashed and unappetizing. "Maybe we can just go eat them back at the room." Alex seemed relieved. We started back across campus. The night sky was overcast, no chance for a silhouette. Still, if I was going to make my move it would have to be soon. Back at the room would be just too awkward. We were passing the hedge of the sculpture garden outside the library. The streetlights twinkled. As good a spot as any. "When we first decided to share the room, I was excited and terrified all at the same time," I told her. "It was so daring, so risque for a boy and a girl to be sharing a room together. But it was terrifying too. I didn't know anything about living with a girl. I used to look at you and think, who is this strange, lovely creature living here beside me? "You remember you told me your idea of what a good roommate should be. I've got to say, you've been all that to me and more. This semester has been the most exciting time of my life, intellectually, emotionally, in every way. I've loved everything about it: the partnership, the give and take, the whole having to figure out for ourselves how boys and girls can live together. I've loved sharing this year with you. "So I guess what I'm getting at, the whole reason I kind of wanted to take you someplace special tonight . . . " I stopped, right in the middle of the quad, halfway between one twinkling streetlamp and the next. "I think that we've become more than roommates. More than friends. Alex, I think you're the most wonderful, beautiful, exciting person in the whole world. I . . . I just . . . I love you." I put my arms around her and moved to kiss her. But she turned her head away. I pulled her closer. She resisted, she . . . struggled. I let her go. Her look was unmistakable. Affront that someone she thought she knew so well had been so presumptuous. Revulsion at the thought of the kiss. The thought of being kissed by me. I touched the side of my face as if I'd been slapped. "Tracy," she said, "I don't feel about us that way." I felt like such a fool. I'd presumed I knew the way she felt, but I'd completely misread her. No, I hadn't even misread her, I'd just projected my own fantasies onto her without bothering to read her at all. Had I ever even taken an honest look at her? I'd bared my soul, taking it for granted that anyone would find my soul as interesting and lovable as I did. But my God, had I ever taken an honest look at myself? Now I was being forced to, to look at myself through her eyes. And what I saw was a conceited, petty, grease-stained, clothes-strewn wimp of a guy who was trying to pass himself off as some kind of red-blooded ladies man. I felt ashamed. Flushed with shame. Shame in the marrow of my bones. People would see it scintillating there, and shake their heads and say, 'He didn't even know. He didn't even know that when shame is as warranted as that you feel it in the marrow of your bones.'