A stack of books. My car keys. The makeup tables the girls had put in one bedroom. The bed with a pile of pillows. Our mis-matched dinnerware. A pile ...f laundry being sorted. The spice rack in the kitchen. A laptop. A camera.Something dawned on me and I turned and snapped a picture of Mary.“Hey, we aren’t supposed to do portraiture,” she laughed. I showed her the picture.“The one thing none of us are ever without,” I said. “Our cell phones.”“Yes! A story. We need a story to tie it together.. . What time is it?”“Like 5, why?”“FUCK! Trainer has already gone home and my legs are shot.”“Where do you live?”“Carlson Hall.”Tom sighed and chewed the inside of his cheek, a ritual he did whenever he knew he was about to help someone for absolutely no reason. “Ok, look, that's all the way across campus. I'm in Thompson, it's right by here. We can go there and then figure something else out.”The boy simply nodded. “Thanks bro. I'm Nolan, by the way.”“Tom.” Tom helped the much shorter boy to. More

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