If Jerry was surprised at our presence, he hid it well, “Gents! What can I do for you?”
He smiled lazily.
Pretending not to smell the beer wafting out from the door, I perked up, “Forgot my room number!”
George capped off my problem with a series of nods.
Jerry looked between us blankly, then to me, “One second.”
The door clicked closed, leaving me with the now ever-watchful George, both pretending not to hear the hectic sounds and cursing reverberating from the other side.
As Jerry reappeared again, entering the hallway and closing the door, I can swear I heard a faint giggle from inside.
He tapped a clipboard regaining my focus, “Mr. McVale…” he was studying it closely, brow furrowed like the paper just insulted his mother and he still wasn’t sure what it said.
I moved to his side casually looking down at the page. It took me a second to soak in the detail that the page was, in fact, upside down.
In dead silence I gently tugged the clipboard out of his shell of a grip, rotated, and placed back into his hand.
In a scowl George turned and made his way back to the stairwell, apparently beyond the threshold of his patience for Jerry. Jerry eyed the back of his peer, a twinkle of amusement flashing in his pool-black eyes, “Georgie was never a fan of my professionalism.”
I managed a nod, my eyes stuck to a spot on the document.
There it was. At the top right of the page was a phone number for the director of Student Activities, Karissa Ray.