Disclaimer: All stories are individuals of themselves and are unrelated to each other.

It was Friday night, and I was washing bras and underwear while my friends got drunk at the bar downtown. I couldn't help but laugh at myself because if someone asked me how my college years went I could say that I spent most Friday nights washing bras and underwear, and it wouldn't be the slightest bit untrue.

Partying was fun; drinking was fun, but when you had a test in a class every other week, partying seemed really irrelevant and childish. Thirty thousand dollars every year wasn't something I could overlook easily.

The laundry room was deserted, as it should be, when I heard a set of feet coming toward the room; a set of running feet. A figure ran past the room, a flash of green and black, before they turned on their heel back to the laundry room.

It was a boy –pants barely on, shirt completely unbuttoned, glasses askew, hair all ruffled –basically the epitome of what a guy looked like after sex.

He was panting and clutching the door frame, with shame written all over his face. I realized I was staring at him widely with my lacy bra held up for all to see. I threw it down into the pile of clothes that needed to be folded and turned toward the boy. The harder I stared at his face I couldn't help but feel like I knew the half dressed boy in front of me.

After he had caught his breath enough he cocked his head to the side questioningly. "Hey, you're in my Comp II class, right?"

I leaned back against the machine I was using, realizing that he was right. He sat three or four rows behind me, but I couldn't remember much else about him.

"Yeah, I think I am," my hand worked its way into my messy bun, releasing a few pieces.

"Professor Starkweather, right?"

I nodded, and looked back at my laundry quickly; trying to clue the guy into the fact that I was busy and didn't want to talk. He apparently didn't get my subtle gesture.

"Yeah, well, I need to ask a favor," the boy ran his hands down the front of his jeans.

"Which is what exactly, stranger who I barely know?"

Again he rubbed his hands on his jeans, looking from the floor back up to me. His eyes traced over my body from head to toe. All of a sudden I felt subconscious in my ratty old 'I Heart New York' T-Shirt and cotton sweatpants. My face flushed.

"I'm –I'm uh –short," he eventually said, not exactly making eye contact.

"Short what?"

"Ugh- I'm sorry, this is like really awkward. Do you have a –a quarter by any chance?"

"Why? Do you have some spontaneous laundry that needs to be done?" I joked turning back to my sack of change by my laundry basket.

"Not exactly," he rubbed at his face. "I need –need to get – a condom." His face was bright red. I felt mine turn the same color.

"A condom?" I asked in disbelief. He didn't exactly look like the kind of guy who ran around dorm buildings trying to find a condom.

"Yeah, I kinda need it, like right now, and I hate to ask random people to help me out here but it's kinda urgent. You see my girlfriend, she's been out of town for a while and my sex life has been nonexistent accordingly and she's only here until-"

I didn't let him finish the enthralling story. "That's fascinating and all, but I can think of a million things that I'd rather think about than your sex life." I dug a quarter out of my change bag and held it out to him.

On his clumsy half run/half walk over to me he tripped over his untied shoes and fell to his hands and knees. My free hand covered my mouth to hide my widening smile. The boy got to his feet in a rush. I couldn't decided which was funnier, him tripping over his own two feet or watching him hastily jump back up. He was nothing but long limbs and an uncoordinated mess.

He held his hand out and I dropped the quarter into his palm. I rolled my eyes as he gripped the quarter for dear life. He dug five more out of his pocket as he turned to exit the room the way he came.

"Have fun, or whatever," I said awkwardly. I raised my hand to wave goodbye but realized that it was unnecessary because the begging boy was gone. I turned back to the unattended laundry just as the dryer buzzed, signifying it was done with its cycle. I bent down with the empty basket to dump the warm clothes into it. One sock was left all the way in the back that no matter how hard I tried it was just too far away for my arm to reach, so I got down on my hands and knees and reached forward into the dryer to get it. My hand just barely grazed the sock when a startling voice erupted in the quiet room, causing me to smash my head against the top of the dryer.

"I'm Simon, by the way."

I emerge from the dryer with my hand clasped against the back of my head. The begging boy was back standing in front of me and was breathing heavily like he ran back here to tell me this information.

I nodded, not sure what else to do. "Isabelle."

He held the condom up for me to see. I couldn't help but laugh.

"You're telling me you came all the way back here to show me the condom that I helped you buy?" I bit my lip to keep from laughing again.

"I just wanted you to know that I wasn't lying."

"Simon?" I asked mainly to make sure I caught his name correctly. When he nodded encouragingly I continued. "I didn't think you were lying at all. No one's that desperate for a quarter."

Kourtnie Speaks: It's been so long since I've actually written, typed, and edited something; it feels so insanely good to have inspiration. Sorry it's been so long. Working on something that will be up very soon, I promise 100%