UNY Dorms, Friday morning (1998)
Angela came back from her French class and struggled to breathe in through her clogged sinuses, than made a face. "Meg?" she called to her roommate. "What is that stench?"
"Angela! Hi!" Meghan said, and for once she sounded almost nice. From experience, Angela knew that meant nothing good had happened. "Remember how I was trying to convince you to use henna and you wouldn't?"
"Like two weeks ago," Angela conceded, dropping her backpack and sniffing again. Her sense of smell was almost shot, but the aroma in the room reminded her of a mixture of zombie sweat and rancid oatmeal.
"Um, right," Meghan said. "Anyhow, I mixed up a batch in case you changed your mind, and then I got involved in decorating my altar to recognize the moon goddess? So I forgot about it, and I just dumped it out in the bathtub." She paused. "I think it's alive and trying to eat the enamel."
Angela flopped onto her bed and groaned into the pillow. She was sick, had a low C in French because conjugating sucked, and was badly homesick for Fandom, of all places. Slowly, she opened one eye. "Do you suppose you could clean it up before it brings down the dorm?"
Meghan nodded. "Yeah, I was going to go to the store and get some stuff. And rubber gloves. Lots and lots of rubber gloves. Just ... don't use the bathroom until I get back, okay?"
"Not a problem,' Angela promised her roommate's retreating back. If Marty wasn't on his way, the day would feel like even more of a waste.
"Angela! Hi!" Meghan said, and for once she sounded almost nice. From experience, Angela knew that meant nothing good had happened. "Remember how I was trying to convince you to use henna and you wouldn't?"
"Like two weeks ago," Angela conceded, dropping her backpack and sniffing again. Her sense of smell was almost shot, but the aroma in the room reminded her of a mixture of zombie sweat and rancid oatmeal.
"Um, right," Meghan said. "Anyhow, I mixed up a batch in case you changed your mind, and then I got involved in decorating my altar to recognize the moon goddess? So I forgot about it, and I just dumped it out in the bathtub." She paused. "I think it's alive and trying to eat the enamel."
Angela flopped onto her bed and groaned into the pillow. She was sick, had a low C in French because conjugating sucked, and was badly homesick for Fandom, of all places. Slowly, she opened one eye. "Do you suppose you could clean it up before it brings down the dorm?"
Meghan nodded. "Yeah, I was going to go to the store and get some stuff. And rubber gloves. Lots and lots of rubber gloves. Just ... don't use the bathroom until I get back, okay?"
"Not a problem,' Angela promised her roommate's retreating back. If Marty wasn't on his way, the day would feel like even more of a waste.