Fuck this college tour, I want a BLT

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"I've shown you guys The Bancroft library, Greek Theatre, Physics North, and The Sather Hall. I know you guys' legs are aching so let's all take a break and we'll move on to The Wheeler Auditorium." The campus guide, whose name is Sarah, says. For three straight hours, we've been walking the campus, looking at every hall, auditorium, and library. After the first hour, I wanted to crawl back into the bed and never get out. Currently, we're in the quad.

Before the campus tour, we discussed campus life, talks of organizations, and safety. During the safety part, I dozed off a bit. We know the basics if someone asks "Do you want some candy?", or "Get in my car.", you say no and run away. Also, don't get too drunk at a party, and if you do, have a DD. That's a designed driver, which I won't be needing.

The most impressive place we went to today was Sather Tower. I've always seen pictures of it online, but the pictures didn't do it justice. It's a bell tower with four clocks on it. Most people call it the Campanile. It was given to Jane K. Sather by her husband. Maybe he cheated on her and needed to make a grand gesture, so making a clock tower that says, "Hey, I'm sorry for cheating on you, please forgive me," can soothe things.

When Bridget first came to Berkeley, I wanted her to send me a picture of it. Instead, she told me to get in the car and come see it myself. I, then, hung up on her and took a jog. She knows how I feel about driving, the fear that it sets inside of my body. Why can't she just deal with it? My parents have, and I have too.

Trust me, they did their fair share of pushing me. My dad even faked an injury so I could drive him to the hospital, but I saw a bit of ketchup that was supposed to be blood drip on the carpet. My mother exchanged some inappropriate words with him that day.

I dig in my black crossbody, open up my granola bar and take a huge bite out of it. The only place, besides the Sather Hall, that would be worth seeing is the cafeteria. I hope that's on the list next, this granola bar isn't going to hold me off for long. Besides me, there are 12 other people on this campus tour.

No one brought up any questions when Sarah asked, "Does anyone have questions?", except for an annoying brunette girl named Jessica Saltzman. She kept asking dumb questions like, "Do you need a certain library card to get into each library?", "Can anyone reserve special books and papers?", and "Is the school strict with curfew?". Everybody kept silent, groaning because she was holding up the tour.

As the rest of us pile on the little concrete bench, Jessica's off talking to Sarah. I hope I don't have a class with her. My teeth clamp onto nothing when I lean my chin out for my granola bar. Wow, I ate this like in five seconds. We have to go by the cafeteria, I might faint from the heat and excess walking. Also, I'm going to make Bridget take me to the store so I can buy a scooter or something, there's no way I can do all this walking.

As I look closely at my Doc Martens, a tall shadow looms in front of me. Tilting my head up, I see Daniel. No more dirt on his body, it's now replaced with clean chocolate skin. Those dazzling teeth of his flash a smile while I soak in his outfit. His looks remind me of Algee Smith.

"What the hell are you wearing?" I stifle down a laugh. His shorts are so short I'm surprised his dick isn't hanging out. Paired with the shorts are a sleeveless shirt and spiky shoes.

He looks down at his fit like he's seeing it for the first time. "I never told you, huh?"

"No."

"I'm on the Berkeley track team." He shows me the logo on his shirt.

My eyebrows lift with amusement, "I didn't know you were good at something. This is something I must ponder on." I do the same position from that famous sculpture "The Thinker" by Auguste Rodin. He rolls his eyes and shoves me over so he can sit beside me.

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