Dormitory Fire Drill

They had reached the fourth floor and the pace picked up. The crowd moved quickly the rest of the way to the lobby which was filled with departing girls and a number of administrators. Les held back. Unlike the students who were all looking ahead, these managers were looking straight at them. The crowd pushed him forward.

The head Resident Manager stood by the door. She was a tall redhead who Les knew from joking with her at the desk. His knees started to get weak with fear of recognition. He ducked his head further. She was waving her arm and said, "Come on, girls. Let's move it, let's move it."

As he passed her, she brushed her hand on his arm to move him through the door. His body tensed and he felt an urgent need to pee. Then, he was through the door, beyond the gauntlet and into freedom.

The courtyard was filled with hundreds of milling coeds. It was a sea of frills and skin to be negotiated undetected. Fortuitously, the approaching sirens of the fire trucks caused most to turn their heads toward the road. Taking advantage of the diversion, and making sure not to lose Beverly, he moved them through the crowd to an empty space near the woods. Somewhat safe for the first time since leaving the bedroom, Les felt a modicum of relief. He realized his entire body was wound taut and made a conscious effort to relax.

Beverly clinched his arm and bubbled, "That was so great! We did it!" Her earlier fear was gone. It was typical. Her mood could change in an instant. She leaned in, grabbed his face and gave him a hot kiss under the pink hood. She was apparently oblivious to the fact that with his attire, others might perceive it as a lesbian lip-lock. Beverly was on an adrenaline high. She could be an excitement junkie in normal circumstances; always wanting to try new or illicit things and push the envelope. This unexpected crisis and the chance of getting caught had clearly given her a rush.

"Maybe it was great for you. I was scared shitless." Les said.