I’ll Take the Rain
By J.M. Snyder
“I can do miracles, baby!” I cry to the crowded study room of the freshman dormitory. “Watch me turn water into wine.”
I hold aloft a two-liter bottle of what appears to be Sprite. It isn’t. It’s champagne, cleverly disguised to throw off anyone who might peek in and wonder what a bunch of crazy college kids are doing up this late at night.
A girl beside me giggles as I shake up the bottle, then unscrew the top. Bubbly liquid showers the front of her tight T-shirt, outlining a lace bra beneath it and stiffening her n*****s. “So cold!” she gasps, rubbing her breasts through the wet shirt. “My headlights are on!”
“I can do anything,” I say, turning to pour the champagne into paper cups other students stick out at me. “Hold your applause, ladies and gent
