Leslie...yeah Leslie was to blame. He had finally got up the courage to ask her to the Art Department Christmas party, and she had laughed in his face, called him a wimp and a loser. And now he was here, sulking, proving she was right. Fuck her, he thought, just fuck her.

David heard the door open behind him. No one ever came out here, out the back of the Art building, where the dumpsters and the trash compactor were. He wondered who it might be, but whoever it was he was not going to let them see him sulking. He untied his shoe and started tying it again, to have a reason to be sitting there. He heard steps coming up behind him, gritting in the sand and salt that had been spr...

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