258Prologue: Of Love and Nukes
"He who trusts in the atom bomb will sooner or later perish by the atom bomb—or something worse." – Henry A. Wallace
I, Riley Quinlan, am officially a dumbass. Sure, I go to Cornell, but that doesn't mean jack when compared to the epic slip-up of my sophomore fall.
There are no do-overs in real life. Not that college is "real life," exactly (it's not), but the rule still applies. Making a single mistake can land you in some pretty deep shit. Like many big mistakes, mine involved far too much alcohol.
Now let me tell you: I am an idiot when I'm drunk. Some people find me amusing, I suppose, but I do some pretty stupid shit and I always feel embarrassed about it in the morning. It usually gets pushed out of my mind by the end of the week, though, so it hasn't ever posed a significant problem.
Not until I met Asher Ives, that is.
Unlike most of my drunken shenanigans, the stubborn Texan drummer didn't go away after a week. He came back to haunt me and to become a perpetual pain in my ass.
I wish I could be mad at him for complicating my life, but it's really no one's fault but mine.
I chose to party with the marching band.
I chose to pour the alcohol down my throat.
I chose to kiss Asher.
And now here we are, locked in our own mini cold war. Though we're not exactly bitter enemies, we fight as though we are. Not a single conversation takes place between us that doesn't erupt into an argument. Yet I can't help but want him. It makes no sense whatsoever.
My sophomore spring is going to be hell. I am totally screwed.
A/N: And there you have it: the prologue to my new story. This will be the second installment of my Cornell 2012 series and will take place mostly in the winter and spring of 2010 (i.e. the class of 2012's sophomore spring semester).
I know some people might be confused by the quote at the beginning of the chapter, since this story actually has nothing to do with nukes. I'm hoping my reasons for including Cold War quotes will become more clear later on. For now, I'll just say this: they're metaphorical.
For the record, this story will be rated M, largely because Riley cusses like a sailor, so to speak. There might also be some adult-ish stuff.
Anyway, let me know what you think so far! The first chapter will be up soon!
Much love,
woodstock1969