Orientation and a Dialogue on Relative Negativity

Cam did a half ass job of getting his belongings put away before heading off to his grandmother’s house leaving Oliver to himself for the evening. Although there was a formal orientation scheduled in a couple of days’ time, he decided he would go out and get a feel for the campus, try and figure where his classes were and walking time to get between them. Later, he thought he would check out a couple of local eateries and grab a bite.

Being warm enough out he didn’t need a jacket, he grabbed his phone, wallet, site map, and course schedule before setting out. Over a hundred years old, the institution possessed an air of historical posterity.

Crossing the diagonal path through the open concourse, he spotted two women walking together at an angle and away from him, long legs moving in synchronous stride, students in their path parting like ducks separating before a pair of approaching foxes. Even from the distance, the two women appeared of similar height and exceptionally well put together. One dark haired, while the other woman was fair. Watching the cadence of their walk, it reminded him of models on a catwalk. The old adage, forewarned is forearmed came to mind and based on the description Cam provided, one thought came to mind. Omega Pi. Chuckling to himself, he resumed his exploration of the grounds still familiarizing himself with possible routes to take to attend classes and making some notations on his site map.

Finding a place to eat was easy enough and he grabbed himself a soup and sandwich before making the trek back to the dorms.

When he arrived, Cam had already returned and was lying on his still unmade bed, leg crossed over a knee and he was on his phone. “Hey man,” he said without bothering to look up.

“This place is huge,” commented Oliver as he put the schedule and map on his desk before sitting on his bed.

“I know, right?” Cam replied, putting down his phone and sitting up.

“How did your dinner go?” Oliver inquired.

“Gah,” Cam replied in an exasperated tone with accompanying eye roll. “Basically I got read the riot act,” he groused.

“I’m sensing you might have been considered a handful as a child,” he jested.

Cam grinned, “I was a cherub,” he replied, putting his hands together as if in prayer and displaying his most innocent look.

Oliver shook his head and chuckled.

“I did however find the location of a peeler bar not too far off campus,” Cam added, rubbing his hands together, the expression on his face transforming to not so innocent.

“I’m not legal yet,” Oliver replied.

Cam snorted and waved a hand, “Everything is legal until you get caught,” he stated.

“I think I saw two of your sister’s housemates when I was out on my walk,” Oliver said.

“Oh?” Cam said, tilting his head.

“I didn’t see them up close, but the way moved, I’m pretty sure they were from Omega Pi,” he explained.

Cam frowned, “So you didn’t interact with them or get the glower of indifference?” he queried.

Oliver shook his head, “They were walking away from me and seemed to be going somewhere,” he clarified.

“Did you take a picture with your phone?” he asked.

Oliver frowned, he hadn’t thought of that, “No,” he answered.

Flopping back onto his bed, “Boring,” Cam declared. “You got me all excited for nothing.”

“Sorry,” Oliver offered.

“You know, now that I think about it, I am going to make it my personal mission to fuck at least one Omega Pi before the end of the school year. A BJ will count as a half, so either fuck one, or get blown by two different ones. It’s like a quest,” Cam avowed.

“Pretty lofty aspirations,” Oliver stated, an image of Cam’s sister coalescing in his mind.

Cam chuckled, “I have a plan, a master strategy if you will to bring my goal to fruition. You see, I happen to know the girls of Omega Pi have this thing they do, Sersei was telling me about it. You see, each sister gets some of those little pink rubber wristbands, you know the ones, anyway, they each get some and then they give them out to dudes that catch their fancy. The rule says, a guy can only get one band from any particular girl, but several girls can give the same guy one. I know it’s stupid, but hear me out. Whoever gets the most wristbands can win a date with an Omega Pi from one of the girls who originally gave him a wristband. I don’t know how it works if there is tie, Sersei never told me. She also never told me how many wristbands each girls gets either. So my strategy is elementary Watson, get the most wristbands,” he concluded, nodding.

“Theoretically, your plan will work, the caveat being predicated by the necessity of getting more wristbands than any other dude,” Oliver said.

“True,” Cam conceded.

“And there’s the fact there is no guarantee you’re going get laid on your date,” he added.

Cam scowled, “You are just full of negativity right now aren’t you little Miss Merry Sunshine?” he accused.

“And let’s not forget the dating mortality rate of a freshman,” he pointed out. It was common knowledge. Freshman girls, swarmed by dudes looking for fresh tail. Freshman boys, no chance, unless one was attached to one of the collegiate teams and there was some suggestion of possible professional aspirations, then maybe. Maybe. Two dorm dwellers? More likely to get hit by lightning.

“If you’re going to be my wingman, you need to employ the power of positive thinking there Oliver. I don’t want to crash and burn before I even get off the tarmac,” Cam asserted.

“Call me a pragmatist,” Oliver grinned.

“You’re failing to consider one very important intangible my potential rivals lack my pessimistic friend,” Cam suggested, grin bordering on a smirk.

“And what pray tell is this little advantage I have so egregiously overlooked?” Oliver asked.

Spreading his hands, “Access,” Cam stated.

“I’m not sure I follow your logic thread,” Oliver replied, narrowing his eyes.

“Sersei, she lives in the Omega Pi house which gives me a credible reason to go over there, ergo, a chance to meet the other girls habituating in that residence and woo them with my roguish charm and boyish good looks. It’s an absolute stroke of genius if I do say so myself,” he said smugly.

“Just a point of clarification if I might?” Oliver queried.

Cam extended his hand, “Please do.”

“Did you or did you not state earlier that some of the discord in your relationship with your sister stemmed from your trying to bed her friends? And, if this were the case, what would stop her from sabotaging your efforts to know some of her sisters in the biblical sense?” he asked.

Cam stared at the other youth, face expressionless. “While your argument possesses some merit, might I remind you of my earlier comment relating to your negativity,” he said flatly, making Oliver chuckle.