"Hey, dude, did you look outside?"
When the interruption came, I was sprawled on the floor, doing all my homework. Literally--I had every subject spread out in a circle around me and was hopping from one to another whenever I got bored with the current topic (which took about five minutes). Saved me valuable time, since I didn't have to spend 55 minutes out of every hour trying to focus. Use the ADHD, I always said.
Anyways, I was deep in the mysteries of Calc III and was kind of on a roll (seven minutes!), so I may have slightly resented Tim's interruption. "No, but judging by the sounds of it, it's raining again--not unlike how it's been raining all damn day." I thought for a second. "Only upside is that it's warm out, and I have no desire to go outside."
My neighbor from across the hall leaned against my doorway, smirking. "Did you look out the south windows?"
I gave him a patient look. "And how would I manage that?" (I lived on the north side, and wasn't in the habit of visiting other people's rooms when I was doing homework...like others I could mention.)
"Look out mine," he suggested.
I indicated my schoolwork, scattered about me like I was the epicenter of a giant learning explosion. "Kinda busy here. What's so exciting about night and rain put together?"
His mouth twitched. "How about the storm sewers backing up and flooding the back side of Mathews?"
Okay, that was intriguing. Also, close to home--Mathews Hall was the dorm I currently resided in. I reluctantly stood up and danced out of my self-imposed minefield, trying not to step on anything. "How big is the puddle?"
Tim laughed. "It's more like a lake..."
"Uh huh." I crossed the hall and entered his room. "So how dee--holy CRAP!"
The mild expletive was wrung out of me by the site of the flood. It extended about thirty feet out from the side of the building and ran the entire length of Mathews Hall. Based on that alone, it had to have been at least a foot deep. Best of all, there were a bunch of college students playing in the lake.
Tim gave me an appraising look. "So what do you think?"
I threw my phone into my room and almost ran him over on my way out the door. "Let's go!"
We lived on third floor. I was able to shortcut a little by jumping down every flight at one go. Tim wasn't quite as adventurous, so by the time he made it down, I'd already been integrated into the football game that was just starting. He joined us, but it was soon apparent (after the fourth interception) that everyone had a problem.
"I can't tell who's on my team!" Kyle complained when everyone started giving him crap for his misguided pass. Between the night, rain, building and sidewalk lights, and random lightning strikes, it was difficult to make out faces. Plus, there were now about fifteen to twenty guys in the lake, which made even remembering who was on our team even harder.
Ben whipped off his shirt. "Shirts versus Skins!"
"Which team are you on?" I asked.
"Skins. Duh. Oh, I see what you mean--I'm on yours," Ben explained.
I promptly defected. "Not anymore. Hey, Tim, switch."
"Why?"
I made a face. "No one needs to see my skinny torso."
Laughing, Tim complied, and we started again. Hiking the ball was quickly scrapped, as holding it to the ground meant that it would launch in unpredictable directions as the center tried to get it out of the water. Fumbles became incredibly long events, due to the fact that the football was a) floating and b) slippery. Once, I launched myself at a dropped ball, only to have it squirt out of my hands. Then someone landed on my back and I went under. It was awesome. One guy took a video, but didn't catch that exact moment, fortunately.
Spectators--girls, adults, and the occasional security guards (who were probably told to get us out of there but took one look and decided that it would be easier to stop Earth from spinning than to remove us)--began gathering around the edge and cheering us on. I mean, except for the security guards.
We played for quite a while. Guys swapped in and out--some took quick breaks to go have water fights with the spectators, and newcomers decided they wanted to join. I almost scored a touchdown once, but a sudden tackle sent me underwater and the ball off to who knows where. One of my teammates got it, though, because there was great rejoicing and a score incrementation when I came up for air.
A few hours later, I finally called it quits--I ran out of energy and was now quite cold. Also, due to the amount of mud that got churned up, my white shorts turned black, and my yellow shirt...um, also turned black. (After washing, they were grey and orange, respectively. I never got their original color back.)
I started towards the door and was halted by one of the said security guards. "Nope. Gotta dry off first."
"Um, okay--"
"Need help?"
Jordan, another Calc III student, joined me. I nodded. "Hey, think you can get me a towel?"
"Sure." He snapped a picture of me and vanished before I could confiscate his phone.
My homework was a little overdue, needless to say.
