She was the girl we dreamt of. She was Asian, 5'4", played volleyball, and did all the things that healthy UW college students did. This girl had a promising career in the making: studying finance, job in marketing, and stellar in both. She could swap jokes and insults with the guys, but could also be shy, demure, and innocent at the right times.

You didn't need to see a picture of her to know that this girl was most definitely cute; in fact, she was intentionally faceless. She had an active, flirty personality; how could she not, with a name like whipcream? And she always seemed to be online in the chatrooms at AsianAvenue.com.

Most of all, she was fabulously single and very eligible.

A lot of the guys were drawn to her, while the girls became green with envy and rather catty against the unwanted competition for online males' attention. And she had the widest breadth of knowledge that you had ever known from a person: she could draw on facts from topics she had no experience with. Because she wasn't just one person, she was four or five collective consciousnesses.

Whipcream was the fabrication of our minds, a pseudo-identity we created to kill time between classes, an elaborate experiment in human behaviour. She was often the projection of one driver (key typist), one front-seater (backup), and possibly an amused audience behind that PC. When necessary, the backup would be able to research other topics -- for instance, the name of a particular building at UW that she is supposed to have classes in -- in order to continue the facade.

(Yeah, we had too much free time.)

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