Ingrid would have sworn on her 2004 Subaru Outback she had seen this man before. He wasn't a basketball star and he didn't work at a coffee shop she went to. She would have remembered if they'd been in a cla** together. Why did she feel so uncomfortable around him? Ingrid wondered.
Her mental checklist was running low. She sort of remembered having a conversation about how he had multiple middle names. They were standing outside the Runza in the student union. Between trying to ignore the smell of burnt chili and wondering whom she was speaking to, Ingrid forgot to pay attention to what the man was saying. He seemed to be repeating himself. She caught up quickly.
He was asking her to join some leadership initiative. It kind of sounded like a pyramid scheme.
“Did she know anyone else that would be interested,” he asked.
Ingrid hardly had time to walk her dog let alone help this guy out. The face of a long forgotten pup entered her mind and unwanted memories were welcomed in.
Before the man could finish talking about the scheme's travel abroad opportunities, Ingrid pivoted on her toes and bolted.
“Uh… do you have cla**?” the man murmured.
But Ingrid didn't hear it. Her ears were hot and red around the edges. A pounding from the floor echoed in her head with every step she took.
Ingrid was a different person the first month of college.
The first boy that texted her after a party became the person she laid next to nights on end. He was older. A tattoo of his dead mother was nearly lost in the sleeves of ink that covered his arms. He had surgery the week before to repair the hanging flesh from his ears after a gauge was ripped out by one of his adopted puppies. These dogs would bite anything.
The first time Ingrid held Adonis, the older of the two pups, he latched onto her left breast. His undeveloped chompers left a mark that most of Ingrid's friends found humorous. A perfect indention of eight small teeth framed the area about an inch above her nipple.
Within a few days of the biting incident, Ingrid decided to drink half a water bottle of vodka hidden in her dormitory fridge. Before leaving in a packed car with mostly strangers, her cousin Sam decided to join. He felt she may need a little help tonight. It didn't take half a block for Ingrid to show the near-strangers her dog bite. Her cousin saw how close she came to pulling her shirt too far down. He made a mental note to tell her when they got to the party.
After hitting one place, Ingrid and Sam lost their original stranger friends. It took two parties before they found a few people Sam knew. One of them didn't drink. He equated to a ride home to Sam. We need to stick with them, he thought, noting Ingrid's deteriorating state. She'd accidentally shown the entire men's golf team her nipple while sharing the news of her scared chest.
Andre had never drunk a drop of alcohol in his life. As long as he didn't start in the next hour, Sam knew they'd have a ride home.
“Show me your dog bite,” Andre said.
Ingrid's buzz was wearing off but she was feeling tired and wanting to stop at a drive through for a cheese burrito.
“Nope, no. I'm too drunk,” She said. “I can't.”
“Well that didn't stop you before,” Andre said in an annoyed tone.
After several attempts, Ingrid obliged. And predictably, Andre received the same view as the golf team.
He drove her home.
Ingrid woke up that morning and didn't feel embarra**ed. She was angry. What a creep, she thought. Andre pressured her to show her bite, knowing she'd drunkenly pull her shirt down too far. She hoped she'd never run into him again. What was his name? Andre Harold Lee David something something something?