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One thousand miles separate Deidre Rothschild ’15 from her boyfriend John Lu, who attends Northwestern University, but on Friday the two united spiritually through both the moon and the oral stimulation of their genitals that they received simultaneously under the night sky.
An evening offers hundreds of opportunities to gaze at the moon and hundreds more to lie down on a fire escape and ease one’s private parts into someone else’s mouth. Rothschild and Lu formed a nation-spanning bond of love when destiny led them to choose the very same instant to do both.
The couple’s metaphysical reunion came at a crucial time, when the difficult transition to college life was beginning to drive them apart. “We’d promised to Skype every day, but before this all happened, I hadn’t talked to or even thought about John for a week,” reported Rothschild. “Our prom picture is next to my alarm clock, but something had kept me from really seeing him when I woke up in the morning. Possibly the fact that I’d accidentally shattered the frame a few days earlier when I was fucking one of my hall-mates.”
True love, however, still bound the former high school sweethearts. Their romance would not allow itself to wither away like some other vestige of youth. “Even when I couldn’t bring myself to admit it, I saw Deidre everywhere,” Lu said in a phone interview with the Noser. “I saw her in Lauren Meadows’ eyes, and in Amber Crawford’s areolas. I saw her in my own face too, when I was doing Kaitlin Hsu up against the mirror in the gender-neutral bathroom last week.”
The divine force that had subtly held Rothschild and Lu together asserted itself fully on Friday night. At 9 p.m. Cupid fired the first volley of arrows, hitting his targets cleanly and setting off his grand scheme to unite the two star-crossed lovers once and for all. “My roommate came home with a fifth of Karkov,” Rothschild said.
Rothschild experienced the subsequent events of the night with a sense of purpose. At the apartment where she would see her passion for Lu reflected in the solitary moon, and in a wet spot of saliva just below her navel, she felt the pull of destiny. “Climbing up the stairs to the front door I tripped and bruised my shin because I was totally fucking wasted,” she recalled. “I almost turned around, but I was like, no, you’ve got to go inside. I’m not sure exactly why but you have to."
Mere minutes later, Rothschild and Lu were united once again. “It’s like they say in the movies,” said Rothschild. “You’re just sitting there, against some picturesque backdrop like a glassy lake or the rugby house, with someone whose name you can’t remember’s face buried in your skirt, and then you just know: it’s like, oh my god, he’s looking at the same moon I am. And she better not swallow because I never did.”
More than halfway across the nation, Lu felt the very same emotions. He reported feeling shaken by both a sense of his enduring closeness to Rothschild and his immediate closeness to orgasm. “Love’s like that sometimes,” he said. “It finds you in the unlikeliest of places. Like in a pit of infidelity, outside.”
Since the events of Friday night, the couple has also connected through the one sun in the sky and their first concurrent homoerotic encounters in a greenhouse.
