My group of three had spent some of the day casing the joint. We patrolled campus, identifying each area in which we needed to visit in order to complete the gauntlet. The next easiest task, we had determined, took place at the Quad. Six ancient pillars heralded our arrival to these trial grounds, though they seemed a bit too ceremonious for the task at hand. I felt as though these ancient structures shook their metaphorical heads in shame as we began to disrobe in an isolated corner of the field. The third deadly sin was to streak the quad, which, as I hesitantly took off my shirt and felt the bitter cold, seemed to stretch on for miles. My friends and I tucked our clothes into our backpacks and immediately began to sprint. The lawn was freshly watered; I shivered as my feet clumsily sloshed through the grass and tiny droplets of water splashed at my heels. The only thing keeping me from slipping was a powerful desire to put clothes back on an end the embarrassment. What we had failed to notice before we started running, however, was a student couple, gingerly kissing beneath the pillars, probably enjoying the crisp, cloudless evening. The three of us registered their presence simultaneously. I kept my head down and clumsily ran past. Tyler, however, took the opportunity to relinquish the shred of dignity he had left and breezed past the lovers in the nighttime, brusquely ruining their tender moment. We did not look back. Except when I dropped my phone and had to return to the quad and scour the grounds, giving the two a wave as we searched. Then, we never looked back.