Nelson heaved a box full of magazines onto a shelf. “That’s the last one. Is that all for today?”

“That should be enough. For now,” the mature and sophisticated president of his club suggestively replied. “Thank you again for offering your assistance.”

“Sorry again for being late last night!” Nelson vehemently apologized. “I got caught up helping my roommate and I lost track of the time!”

She grinned subtly. “As your club president, I must show concern about your punctuality. I am, however, relieved everything was straightened out in the end.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Not over something as small as this as long as it doesn’t become a habit. Besides, it isn’t me you should be apologizing to.”

“Right! I’ll apologize to the others at our next meeting!”

“They might go easier on you if you show up early. I happen to arrive half an hour before our meetings to unlock the door and set up for our activities. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“That’s a good idea! You shouldn’t have to set up everything on your own anyways.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I consider it a part of my responsibilities.”

“You don’t have to do everything yourself. What’s the point of being in charge if you can’t divvy up the work a little?”

“If it is your decision to ease my burden, I won’t stop you.”

“Count on it!”

The president’s watch chimed and she looked at it, somewhat disappointed. “I have a prior engagement in a few minutes. We’ll speak again at the next meeting.”

“See you then.”

Nelson went back to his room and found Zane sprawled out on the floor, reading a pamphlet with a sour expression.

“H-Hey, Zane,” Nelson nervously greeted, creeping around him toward his bed like he was stepping though a minefield. “How was your day?”

“Shit,” Zane abruptly answered. “Another one of those heads found me today.”

Nelson dropped his bag in surprise. “Did they challenge you to a fight?”

“Nah. But I have to join a club or they’ll kick me out of school.”

“Oh. That doesn’t sound so bad.”

Zane sneered. “Now I’ve got to figure out which of these forty clubs I can get away with ditching.”

“Forty?” Nelson curiously asked.

“Yeah. The clubs listed in the extracurricular pamphlet.”

Nelson briefly took the paper and whipped out the slew of extra pages folded into it. “Andronicus has over two hundred clubs and teams. You were looking at the cover.”

“Well… I won’t be short of choices.”

“I don’t think you should be looking for the club that will be easiest to skip. You should pick something you enjoy.”

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“They could have a beer and blowjobs club and I’d still hate it. I already have to do homework outside of classes, why do I have to waste my free time doing more bullshit for school?”

“Well, there’s no beer and… what you said –club, but let’s see if there’s something more your speed.” He took the pamphlet and paged through it. “Oh yeah, there’s the escort club!”

“You mean like a pimp service?”

“No!” Nelson bashfully assured. “Since dating isn’t allowed, someone made a club where students can go on fake dates with the members! It’s really popular!”

Zane snatched the pamphlet and read the club’s description. “The heads let that happen?”

“There was a huge uproar when it first started and the last disciplinary chief tried to have it shut down repeatedly, but nothing immoral was going on and their service had a positive effect on student morale, so it survived. I think you’re good looking enough that they’d let you join, plus you could hit on all the girls.”

“Ha. No thank you. I’m not about to get pimped out to whichever busted landwhale walks in if dirty talk is the furthest I can go.”

“Alright, yikes. How about the stage arts club? They do concerts and floor shows, they perform at almost every big event; you have to be kind of talented for them to let you join, but the whole campus idolizes them. It’d probably fix your reputation.”

“I do love a good concert, but I’m no singer and I can barely dance. Plus, I was in theater for a year, and that’s way more time and effort than I’m willing to put in.”

“What about one of the martial arts teams? You like fighting, don’t you?”

“What part of last night’s fight screamed ‘sportsmanship’ to you?”

Nelson grimaced over his oversight. “Point taken. You know, you’re not giving me a lot to work with. Why don’t you join the literature club? It’s where people go if they want credits for not doing anything, which is exactly what you want. Trouble students end up there or the gardening club anyways.”

“A: I am not a trouble student, and two: that’s exactly what they want me to do.”

“Then I can’t help you!” Nelson cried, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I don’t know what you like, and you’re not interested in anything I suggest! Unless you want to join my club.”

“Oh yeah, your meeting was in the middle of the night. What is your club?”

“The astronomy club. We have permission to meet after curfew on top of one of the buildings for stargazing. That’s all we do for club activities. Well, that and draw star charts. You want in?”

Zane considered it thoughtfully for a moment, then declined. “If I’m there, I’ll only be in the way.”

“You won’t be in my way.”

“Not yours. You know what, fuck it!” He snatched the pamphlet and picked one at random. “I’ll join the social studies club! They’ve only got four members and they only meet twice a week.”

Nelson scanned the pamphlet entry. “Yeah, alright. They meet today, so you could probably walk into their clubroom right now and see if it’s worth the effort. If you don’t feel like signing up online.”

“Peachy.”

The social studies club was in the same building as Nelson’s, though on the first floor rather than the third. Most clubs meet on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, this being Tuesday, the building was largely empty and only one person was in the room he was looking for. He was putting up a box of files when he noticed Zane peering in.

“Need something?” he asked, startled as if he’d been walked in on doing something untoward.

“Yeah, uh, I’m looking to join the social studies club?” Zane replied, a little disinterested.

“Oh, come in.” He pulled out a chair for Zane and got a registration form. “I’m Johnathan Richard, social studies club president.”

“Zane,” he replied. “Zane Ashford.”

“E at the end?”

“No.”

Johnathan scribbled Zane’s name on the form. “We just let out ten minutes ago. If you’d been here half an hour sooner, you would have been able to sit in on our first meeting of the semester. So, Zane, do you know what the social studies club does?”

“Yeah, uh, it’s like history, right? But about people and places.”

Johnathan inhaled through his teeth. “That’s a common misconception. We actually go out and study social behavior. The way people interact, crowd traffic, what’s popular, stuff like that. I hope that doesn’t turn you off.”

“No, no, I’ll fuck with that. It’s a lot less reading than I thought I was in for. So, you just watch people?”

“Sometimes we observe, sometimes we hand out questionnaires or conduct interviews. Most of our activities keep us out of the clubroom.”

“That’s perfect! I’d definitely fuck with that!”

“Oh, great!” he said with surprise, then filled out more of the form. “We’ve actually been looking for a new member. The previous president graduated last year, and the school only provides funding for clubs with five or more members. So, why are you interested in joining our club?”

“The student leadership is coercing me into it.”

Johnathan was silent for bit. “There isn’t a box for that. I’ll mark you down as ‘other.’ Here, you need to fill out the rest. Just add your student ID and class schedule.”

Zane scrawled in his info. “Is that it?”

“That’s it.”

“I’m officially apart of the club?”

“Once I submit the form this evening.”