Ouch. At least that's what he thought he was supposed to think when jaws are locked onto your neck. Instead he had a flashback to this past summer, when he'd first met Cory. When you live in Miami. you've got no choice but to go north for summer vacation. So instead of strolling down South Beach, he'd found himself with his parents going to backwoods cities like Tupelo, Memphis, and (gasp) Nashville. One night his family decided to go the seventh level of Hades (aka The Grand Ole Opry), with Michael fully expecting to see nothing but gap tooth spoon players and accordions. As he and his parents were waiting for the show to begin, he saw what seemed to be an angel float down from the sky and descend into the seat next to him. She was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. He began sweating profusely. After several minutes, she finally broke the ice, that apparently only she felt. "Are you OK?" she asked. "Yeah, its just really hot in here and I'm not used to the heat," he replied. "Oh, OK. Where are you from?" "Uh...Miami." She broke into a laugh so loud it almost drowned out the twang from onstage. "My name's Cory," she said with a wide grin. "Oh. I'm Michael." And with that, the most memorable week of his life began, as he and Cory were inseparable, before both of their families went their separate ways for the month of August. But the most amazing thing was that she was going to be transferring to his school in the fall.
He had been a theater major, but when he found out she was in Philosophy, he immediately signed up for Existentialism, Epistemology, and Platonic Theorems. The day before classes started, he strode up to her dorm room door to welcome her to campus, flowers in hand. "Hey, Cory, I'm so excited to see you and your gorgeous self..." he said as he opened the door, when he was stopped short by one of the biggest men he'd ever seen. The man-child was wearing three days worth of stubble and a 'Communism is Cool' t-shirt. "Those flowers aren't for my girl Cory, are they?" he growled. Michael just stood there in a mild state of shock. "Because no one, and I mean no one, even so much as thinks about my girl Cory without permission," he snarled. Just then, Cory walked through the door, gave Michael a quick side-hug, and said, "Oh, you've met Lenny!"
Lenin "Lenny" Wolk was the son of ardent Bolsheviks, and a guy whose anti-establishment background was found irresistible by girls with a anti-establishment bent of their own, like Cory. Ironically, his parents took advantage of the capitalist system and made a killing with their "Smooth Soviet" line of clothing, allowing Lenny to buy his way into any school he wanted. He chose to follow Cory.
The semester passed slowly and painfully for Michael, who shared almost every class with Cory, but couldn't make a move out of fear of Lenny. So he did what any methodical girl-obsessed movie-watching college student would do. He started lifting weights and taking martial arts classes. Now, there's only so much time you can devote to those pursuits while being a full-time college student, but Michael did what he could, and wasn't too shabby after three months. He was more confident, more coordinated, and for the most part his bird-chest was gone.
Finals were in full-swing and winter in full bloom when he got a very unexpected call from Lenny Wolk. "Hey, Michael, what's up?" This was the first contact he'd had with Lenny since the first day, other than the occasional glare when passing on campus. "Cory says you're a pretty cool guy, so I'd like to bury the hatchet. My family has invited Cory and a bunch of her friends to come to our estate in Bhutan- that's in the Himalayas, you know." Can Lenny actual be this nice? What's the catch? "It's an all-expense paid trip, a dozen guys and girls. You can't say no." And he didn't, not with the potential of spending time with Cory, event at distance. And now, here he was, crouching in the grass with werewolf stuck in his neck. This flash-back took only a second, which is less time than it took for him to employ his latest karate move. With a quick spin, he lifted up the werewolf and threw him against the tree. He instinctively put his hand against his neck. Blood. He resisted the thought of saying "sweet to lick" like he'd just seen in Karate Kid. Why couldn't they have had some more recent movies on the private jet over here? he wondered. He walked over to the now-unconscious form by the tree. The werewolf had on a torn t-shirt that read 'You Down with CCCP? Yeah You Know Me'. It looked like maybe Lenny wasn't so nice after all.
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