First you make a quick stop at your dorm room, but a thorough search doesn't turn up anything that looks like a present: no wrapped anything, and nothing that you don't remember owning yourself.
Crossing your fingers that it's the right thing to do, you decide to skip the present and go find Inez.
You have to look up which dorm room she lives in. You leave your dorm – a twenty-year-old ten-story box filled with tiny singles and most of the rowdier students at the school – and skirt the quads to reach Braswell Hall. While your dorm is the oldest one on campus, Braswell is the newest: a modern affair, only three stories high but taking up an entire block, with its own private open green space in the center. If Braswell didn't have the reputation of housing all of the students more interested in homework than in parties, you'd probably be jealous. Or, at least, you would have been back when you were actually going to school here.
In your own memories, you never set foot inside this building once in the four years you went to school here. But of course in your history you didn't have a girlfriend who lived here.
You roam the unfamiliar hallways, trying to figure out the arcane numbering system for the rooms, until you finally find a door with Inez's number on it. You knock.
A short, pug-nosed woman with chocolate-brown skin answers.
"Um, I'm looking for Inez."
The woman rolls her eyes and steps away, leaving the door open behind her.
That's right, you remember: Braswell was all doubles. This must be Inez's roommate, and you have no idea how to figure out what her name is, let alone whether you're supposed to be friends with her or not.
As you step into the room, Inez all-but tackles you, wrapping you up in her arms. She gives you a long, warm kiss – and out of the corner of your eye you see her roommate, across the room, sneering at the two of you.
"You're late," Inez chides playfully. Then she pulls back, noticing for the first time what you've brought. "Flowers!" she said. "How thoughtful!"
Everything blinks out of existence and you find yourself floating in blackness again. Whatever the rabbit's foot is doing, it certainly doesn't believe in lingering anywhere very long.
Flip a coin:
Or you can