Earworm: Part 39 — Dorm Life

EarwormContinued from: Earworm: Part 38 — Trilogy

Bobbi Jacobs was a light sleeper. Back home, in Colorado, crickets kept her from falling asleep at night. And then birds woke her in the morning. People said she’d get used to dorm life. They said that the constant murmur of sounds—the distant blaring of radios, the mumbling of televisions, the thumps and bumps of people dropping from top bunks, the ghostly voices and drifting laughter—would blend like the soft, incessant patter of raindrops. But raindrops woke her too. When her friends back home asked why in the world she decided to transfer to a school dubbed “Zoo-Mass,” she told them she’d just get earplugs. But earplugs only stifled the undercutting white noise wafting from distant rooms. The noises of Bobbi’s roommate were another story.

It wasn’t that her roommate partied or listened to music at all hours, fact was, she always seemed to be sleeping. She was the first person Bobbi met that set an alarm clock, not to wake herself up, but to tell her when to go to sleep. By Zoo-Mass standards, Bobbi’s roommate was pretty tame—although, word around campus was that she was a “wild one” in the past.

It was the noises her roommate made while sleeping that drove Bobbi nuts. And it wasn’t just the noises that freaked her out, it was the way her roommate writhed in the dark like an overturned insect trying to right itself, her moaning articulating either great suffering, or great ecstasy. Bobbi figured it was the latter. Bobbi couldn’t believe it. This chick seemed to get more action asleep than Bobbi did awake. No wonder she slept so much. Bobbi also feared what their neighbors must think. After all, there was never a man sneaking in or out of their room. How long before the two girls were labeled as dykes?

Bobbi heard her roommate’s moans, and she glanced over to see her roommate’s body squirming in the partial light of the full moon that shone in through the room’s windows. “Jesus,” Bobbi said, testing that her earplugs were still in her ears. “Hey,” she called in a whispered plea—a little louder than she intended, due to the earplugs. “Hey, wake up. Hey, you’re so loud.” Bobbi fished out one of her gorilla-foot slippers from under her bed and heaved it across the room, pelting her roommate. “Hey,” Bobbi called. “Hey, Starling, shut up.”

Continued in: Earworm: Part 40 — Hostage

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