The Hazards of Skinny Dipping
“Don’t read too much into the question. I’m just asking.
Your Almost Innocent Cousin, Juliet The first day of classes was mostly uneventful. I started with Freshman Writing at nine. Mallory was in it with me, and the professor seemed decent, although he was ancient. Our first assignment was straightforward: a paper about our favorite book. The only problem was I didn’t have a favorite book. I know what you’re thinking—I’m a ditz or something—but that’s not true. I’d simply never found a book that spoke to me enough to be my favorite. I liked a lot of books. I loved A Farewell to Arms and The Quiet American. Now that I think about it, most of the books I liked were about war. I wonder what that says about me? But that’s beside the point. I didn’t have one favorite.
Our next classes were on opposite sides of the quad, so I said goodbye to Mallory and went in search of my Modern U.S. History class. I found it with five minutes to spare and took my time setting up my laptop.
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