The Legend of Pete

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Pete. A name that will live in infamy for as long as college students occupy dormatories. Let me tell you of Pete.
It was two in the morning one weeknight (not uncommon) and I was standing at the bathroom sink brushing my teeth. The bathroom door to my left cracked open an inch, as if someone were peering inside, then flung completely open. A wide-eyed, lanky guy in pajamas with orangish-red hair stepped in. “What’s up?” he said, “sorry to bother you.” After peering at me a minute, not for too long but just long enough to make the moment uncomfortable, he stepped around the corner and into a stall, closing the door behind him.
I didn’t think much of it and continued cleaning my pearly-whites. Then the door cracked an inch again, just for a second before swinging open a second time, now revealing a girl. She looked around the bathroom, then straight at me and asked if I knew where Pete was. “I’m in here!” he bellowed from his stall, but the girl was apparently drunk and had no idea what was going on. I told her I thought he was in the stall (real rocket science, that) and she thanked me. I walked past her out of the bathroom, opened the door to my room and turned to close it, only to find the girl still staring at me. “What are you doing?” she asked, still with a dazed look in her eye. “Um…I’m going to bed” I answered, to which she replied “Oh okay. Have fun.” before turning and walking into the bathroom to find the fate of Pete.
I shut (and locked) my door and laughed as I heard other voices yelling “Where’s Pete?” or “Where’d Petie go?” Jacob was already fast asleep in his bed and missed all of the excitement. I’d have to tell him of Pete in the morning.

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