Lisa

Lisa, a fellow freshman who lives in our neighbor suite, is a breathtaking beauty from New York - the kind of beauty that toppled ancient Greek empires - a sun-like beacon to the male sex. Anna (one of my four suitemates) gasped and said, “The gods walk among us.” The first time we saw her at orientation. If Lisa lays in one of the hammocks in the quad to study - in minutes there’ll be 10 guys doing athletic male things like throwing footballs and foot juggling fobs - anything olympian and roughly physical to show off and draw her interest. Late one afternoon, Anna and I were studying and watching such a scene from a second floor patio garden. Sunny, (another of my suitemates) just returning from class, took in the scene. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Are you smelling roses?” Anna observed. “Better than roses,” Sunny said. Looking down at the preening guys. “They’re gorgeous,” she sighed, “Why can’t I have just ONE?” “They’re already entranced.” Anna said, peering over her sunglasses. “Awwww!” Sunny purred, “Look at the pretty one in the orange shorts.” “Too late, I said, “she’s already culled him out from the herd.” It was true, Lisa was slowly leading him away from the pack, spellbound. “She’ll probably eat him.” I said. “How does she DO that?” Anna asked admiringly. “I don’t think she even tries - it’s probably pheromonal.” Sunny said ruefully. Our envy isn’t raw enough to curdle into dislike - we agree that she doesn’t seem to TRY to be the center of attention - we just wonder where she finds the time for it all.