Erin, George and I ran out of the cafeteria giggling, as I held three trays under my hoodie and into the storm. Erin managed to trip, allowing me to break her fall and sending me directly into the freshly fallen snow – George pelting us with snowballs all the while.
We brushed ourselves off, took the trays out from underneath my sweatshirt, and proceeded to take a running start as we slid across the main road of Cabrini that had just been plowed.
The trays, while small in size, actually got a considerable amount of distance. The only downside was that you had to really make a run for it in order to get a halfway decent ride. After a few runs, it’s sad to say that we were kind of winded.
“I think we need a bigger boat.” George gasped, walking back from his last run.
“Yeah, man,” I panted, “this is not going as well as I had hoped.”
“I can drive us to get some sleds tomorrow when the roads are better.” Erin suggested.
“That works.” I sighed. “Well, what are we going to do now?”
“I still have that 36-er from last weekend.” Erin shrugged, opening the door to Woodcrest.
“I thought we finished that thing off?” George giggled.
“No,” I said, “Erin and I stored some under the bed for an emergency. And being snowed in is most definitely an emergency.”
“It’s settled then,” Erin laughed, “let’s get drunk.”
And so we made our way to Erin’s room on the second floor, and began to drink as though there were no tomorrow because, let’s be honest, when you’re in college – you never really know if you’re going to make it that far anyway.