**Standard disclaimer applies. This is based on actual events, although names, places, and descriptions have changed to protect the identities of the living. Don't read if you shouldn't because you're under 18 or live in a backwards area. I appreciate any and all feedback, so please email me at jwolf24450@gmail.com. Enjoy the story!
By the time I reached my junior year at OD, I had my fair share of moments. Great moments, sexy moments, sad moments, dramatic moments... moments that have moved me- shaped me- forever.
After spending all day with Peter, I was positive I could file our last twelve hours together under best moments ever.
For the first time in a couple of days, we didn't sleep together. After playing with Mister until midnight, he declared that he was going to walk home and crash.
"I'll talk to you tomorrow," I said. I had learned over the course of our day to curb my frustration with him. There was no use rushing something to happen. After I opened up and actually talked to him about love and Old Dominion, I realized if something was going to happen with Pete and me, it would happen in its time. I rested on that, believed in it, and slept easy.
I woke up in focused errand mode. By nine o'clock, I was showered, dressed, and loaded with Mister and myself into Hutch's Xterra. The boys had all gone to matriculate, but I had decided to wait until the afternoon when the lines were thinner. Everyone tried to get a head start on it, which usually backfired.
The local vet applauded me for taking in a rescue, until she realized that I'd named a girl kitten Mister. She asked if I was fond of the name, now that I knew, and I told her I was. Something about it was fun, I thought. Even if she was a girl, Mister was still a really cool name. And so she got her first round of shots, a registration card and a tag, and sample medication for the worms that were causing her fatigue and inability to gain weight.
"Mr. Crowley, I cannot stress enough how important it is that you give her this medication twice a day at the same time, twelve hours apart. I'd go ahead and set an alarm for when you plan on doing it. It can take up to two weeks to get rid of all the worms, but once she's healthy, you'll see a big improvement."
"Okay," I nodded.
She ran through some of the side effects with me, and I cringed at the thought of cleaning up cat vomit if it came to that. Still, I couldn't have a malnourished lethargic cat running around, when up until that point, Mister had proven to be a substantial wing man. I needed her healthy. Capable. Alert.
My next stop was an early lunch with Alexandria. We discussed the paper. Apparently, her doomsday report wasn't very accurate. I'd predicted that the school wouldn't let the paper go under, and guess who was right? The day before, just after securing enough ads to keep us afloat for a couple of issues, the school swooped in and cut us a loan for what we needed to get the first issue out on the fast track.
"I need you to get me your column. I'm emailing the other writers today, and I'm setting Thursday night as a deadline. We edit Friday, print Saturday, and distribute on Sunday. Do you think that's reasonable?"
Hell no, it wasn't, I thought. But to Al, anything was reasonable. She was of the mindset that any of her writers could just sit down and come up with a concept, pump it out, and email it to her and the copy editor in a matter of minutes. I added writing an opening column to my list of to-dos, and then proceeded to gossip with Alexandria for another twenty minutes.
After that, I sat through the first rush meeting of the year. Attendance was mandatory, and everyone was back in town. The chapter room was as full as it could be, hot, and I was instantly annoyed.
We kicked off the meeting with Hutch, the rush chair, presenting. He laid out some strategic ice breakers with frosh, rush event ideas, and national guidelines to drinking with potential new members.
Next, we all went around and added names to the rush master list. This was a pointless, useless, and offensive practice. Supposedly, each brother needed to bring one new name for the list per week. The name was to be accompanied by a telephone number or an email address. Bonus points if you were already friends on Facebook with the kid and could provide a recent picture.
Most of the names were foreign to me. I recognized Hutch's guy, David Marcossi, as someone I'd met the other night with Lee. Tennis player from Florida, I remembered. I vaguely recalled doing a shot with him. I obviously knew Brandon, and I contributed Lee to the list. That was about it. As the other brothers prattled on the guys they'd met so far, I zoned out and wished to be anywhere else.
The meeting lasted too long, and by the time it was done, I was over being in the house. I called Amanda and asked what she was doing that afternoon.
"I'm setting up my bedroom and then unpacking the kitchen with Steph," she answered. "You can come hang out if you want. We're bribing some freshman to help us."
I agreed to go over after I'd masturbated and matriculated. It took me twenty minutes to zoom through the non-line. I thought about texting Pete and seeing if he wanted to come to what I could only imagine was an unpacking party at Amanda's. I'd seen the guy six days in a row, and it was getting hard to imagine a time when we didn't hang out every day.
Instead, I reminded myself of someone that I did need to call instead.
All of that talk with Pete the night before about Mike the Cadet had reminded me about the guy I'd crushed over for two years. For two years I'd tried to convince Mike that he could be with a guy... if not any guy, then me. My efforts had landed me a couple of make outs, some really steamy rub downs, and the occasional time or two when he'd let me go down on him. We were close, that was for sure. But not nearly as close as I would have wanted, all things considered.
"Hey, Mike," I said into the phone. My voice was shallow and my breath was short, like it always was when I talked to him.
"Hey, `mo!" He sounded genuinely excited to hear from me. "I was going to call soon and see if you were back at school."
"I am back," I replied. I wanted to believe that he would call, but I didn't. "What are you up to?"
"We start Monday, but I've had wrestling for a couple of weeks already," he said. "You gonna come to one of my matches this year?"
"If you invite me."
"You'd love it. Seeing me roll around on a mat with another guy."
I shook my head.
"You're a pervert," I said simply.
"Whatever. You like it."
"So what are you up to this weekend? Before curfews and all that start."
"I don't know. Anything fun happening at OD?"
"Yeah, I'm sure," I said. "I mean we could hang out one night."
"Dude, if you can get me into one of your parties, that'd be awesome."
"Mike, I can always get you in," I said with just a little flirtatious shade.
"That's what she said." I smiled beside myself. I told Mike to call me on Friday if he wanted to go out. The routine would be simple. He'd come over, we'd hang out and pre drink, he'd put on my clothes, and we'd go partying. People would know he was a Vmee based on his haircut, but if he stayed close to me, no one would mess with him.
But it never went down that way.
He'd get loud and obnoxious. I would get embarrassed and either leave him to fend for himself, or I'd take him home. We'd hook up in my room, he'd sneak out, and then sneak back into the barracks. It was a total rinse and repeat, and we RSVP'd to each other to repeat it on Friday.
By the time I hung up, I was a house down from Amanda's.
"Hey Mandy Moo," I said, walking in and climbing the stairs to her bedroom. She was almost done setting everything up, and only had a couple of paintings left to hang when I arrived. I took a seat on her lounge chair and watched her work.
"Is it true that you adopted a cat yesterday?" she asked.
"I did," I answered.
"Seriously? Corbin, why do you have a cat?"
"I don't know. I was blacked out and I agreed to it."
"And you couldn't explain when you sobered up that you have no business raising a cat in a frat house?"
"It's complicated. But it'll be fine," I said defensively. "How'd you know, anyway?"
"Peter told me," she said. I scrunched my face. When had she talked to Peter about my cat? "He said Mister is really cute."
"She is. You should come see her."
"Mister is a she?"
"Again, it's complicated," I said. Amanda gave me a sideways look.
"I talked to Steph and Tamia about it. If you want, we can help you raise the cat here," she said, her voice tender and genuine. "I mean, we have the space. You can help out with food and stuff. And you're here all the time anyway, so you'd see her."
"Wait, what?"
"I just think it's weird for you to raise a kitten in a frat house."
"The cat's fine at the house," I said, growing more defensive. Did she not think I could do it? Was she actually implying that I would be a harm to this cat?
"I'm sure it is, Corb, but come on."
"Come on, what?"
"You were drunk when you agreed to the cat. Your room is constantly filled with people coming and going. It's no place for a kitten."
"It's a cat, Mandy, not a fucking baby," I said. "She'll be fine with me at the house."
"Okay," she answered, clearly not okay with it.
"The cat is fine at the house," I repeated, stressing my words further. I was annoyed, verging on pissed. I took a deep breath, and tempered my tone. "But I appreciate the offer. If it gets to be too much, I'll let you and the girls know."
Amanda nodded, and dropped it. I took a deep breath, and swallowed my annoyance.
"So you and Pete hang out now?" I asked, trying to accomplish a seamless segue. I wanted to know without sounding obsessed.
"We matriculated together and then went to lunch," she replied. "He'd never been to Dominion Inn, so I took him. It's funny, all the things he doesn't know about Clifton Hill that we take for granted. You should have seen him try to tackle the Battlefield Brunch."
"Yeah?"
"He loved it. I'll be surprised if he doesn't eat there every day," she smiled. I was hit with a pang of jealousy that no one had called me to go with them. I wouldn't have been able to, as I was meeting with Alexandria, but still... I would have appreciated the invite. I guess those two were friends in their own right, but I was friends with each of them... we could have been friends together.
"What'd y'all talk about? Besides my cat..."
"This and that," she said shortly. I looked at her as she turned to put up another painting.
"Anything in particular?"
"He just had a bunch of questions about classes, professors, you know. We matriculated, so we talked about that. He wants to join the chorus, which I said was a good idea to meet people. Are you going to do it again this year?"
"Probably," I replied. Chorus was one of the many extracurricular I signed up for so that I would always have an obligation in case some fraternity bullshit came up that I wanted to avoid.
"I told him you were in it, so he sounded like he'd definitely give it a shot."
I wanted to ask what else he'd said about me. It was at the tip of my tongue, but I knew it would give me away. Amanda hung the painting on the nail she'd just popped into the wall, turned around, and grinned at me.
"He asked a couple of things about you," she said, probably reading that I was fishing.
"Like..."
"He thinks you're a good friend. You're funny. He likes you."
"Likes..."
"I don't know. It didn't sound like anything romantic, Corb. He just said he has fun hanging out with you." She was so nonchalant about killing my dream, I wondered if she knew how much I liked Peter. If it wasn't that obvious for Amanda to tell I was crazy over him, then I was successfully keeping my feelings under control... at least on the outside.
However, her saying that did set me aback. It sounded like he was filing me firmly into the friend zone, which sort of blew. But there could have been worse places to be filed, I thought. Or not filed at all.
"Well, he's a fun guy, so there's that..."
"You don't have to pretend that you don't like him for me. I'm sure it gets exhausting around him."
It did, and if anyone knew me well enough to know it, it was Amanda. I gave her an `it's whatever' look, and a minute later, I followed her downstairs to her kitchen.
It took me a minute to realize that since I'd been to their apartment a couple of days before, the girls had pulled everything away from the walls and painted. The appliances, fridge included, were all in the center of the room, as were the microwave, toaster, boxes of cups and plates, and nonperishable food items.
"So they just got done painting the second coat. I guess we can start putting things back on the shelves," Amanda said. I opened the fridge and pulled out a surprisingly still cold beer.
"Where are the guys?" I asked, lifting a box of spices and hoisting it to the counter. "Dash, who are the guys?"
"Some of the freshmen that me and Steph met at your kick back the other day," she answered. "You know Lee and Brandon, I guess."
The name Lee jolted me. Of course I knew him. But the question was how well Amanda knew that I knew him.
"Yeah, I do," I said. I arranged their spices in the overhead compartment above the stove.
"They're really fun," she said. "And I think Lee is pretty cute. They hung out over here last night."
There was something unmistakable in her tone. I turned my head over my shoulder and glanced at her.
"Did they?"
She smiled at me. "They did."
I debated telling her that I'd already seen him naked. If I told her and she'd already hooked up with him, shit would be really awkward. If I didn't tell her and she hooked up with him later... I dreaded the thought of what would happen when she found out.
It wasn't the first time that Amanda and I would have shared a guy, assuming she and Lee had hooked up. Our freshman year, in a moment of drunken stupidity, Amanda and I had a threesome of sorts with a prospective student. Apparently our hospitality was spot on, because the kid was now the most closeted case of the Old Dominion Pike fraternity.
"Did anything juicy happen?"
"Nothing good," she said, turning her head to the side. "I think Lee was into Steph all night, but she didn't do anything about it. They hung out for a while, though."
"What about her and the guy she was dating last year?" I asked, referring to the guy that Amanda's roommate had lost her virginity to. Like anyone who fell in love with a player, she still wasn't over it. "Is she over that?"
"I guess. Hopefully. Lee seems like a nice guy."
"He does," I said, trying not to sound too possessive. I couldn't help but think that he was my find... my freshman diamond in a sea of rough. My catch. I wasn't by any means delusional enough to suspect he wouldn't be taking full advantage of his freshmandom, but I didn't expect it to be happening so soon... and with someone I knew.
"She needs someone to get her mind off that douche bag. Even if it is a freshman," Amanda said as she unloaded plates and glasses into a cupboard.
I swallowed, and continued with my task. A few minutes later, the guys and Stephanie rejoined us in the kitchen. The two boys had paint smudges on their sweat shorts and t-shirts.
"Hey," they said, entering the room.
"Steph," I called when she walked in holding two clean paint brushes. "It's good to see you."
I gave her a hug, shook hands with the guys, and waited for Lee to say something to me.
"I see they have you two doing manual labor," I observed, hoping to break the awkwardness.
"Yeah, they do," Brandon said. "And all we get out of the deal is Natty Light."
"Ice cold Natty Light... and vodka, if you want it," Stephanie said. I observed how close she stood to Lee, and for some uncontrollable reason, it bothered me. A second later, I caught eyes with Lee, and he shifted his gaze quickly.
"I could use a vodka," I said. Amanda crossed the kitchen to pull a handle out of the fridge.
"We don't have any mixers," she said.
"Water is fine," I said. At that point, I might have drank it straight. We put the contents of their boxes back into shelves while Lee attempted to flirt openly with Steph. It was weird for me to watch, not because I liked him or anything, but because I was mostly just confused. It hadn't been a couple of days since we'd hooked up, and there he was clearly trying to hook up with a friend of mine. A girl friend of mine. I grappled with the decision of telling her or not, and ultimately decided against it. It wasn't my business. If anything, I'd tell Amanda and she'd know what to do.
Two hours and four vodka waters later, I was tipsy and tired, and ready to nap before the White Party.
"I got an invite to that," Lee said as I was making my excuses to leave. There were three levels of invitation to The White Party, and I wasn't surprised to learn that Lee was invited to the `open' portion that kicked off at ten. He turned to Steph and asked: "Are you going?"
"Probably not," she said. "There's a party at Pi Phi that I want to go to."
Pi Phi was having a DJ on Greek Row that night as a lame counter programming to anyone that wasn't going to the White Party.
"I got an invite to that too," Lee said. "I guess I'll pick which one to go to."
"You can pre-game here," Stephanie said. If he did that, then clearly he'd be going to Pi Phi. I bit my bottom lip in contemplation.
"Corbs, who are you going to The White Party with?" Amanda asked. I could have said Lee. I could have put him in a corner right then and said I was planning on asking him. I could have laid all my cards out on the table and plucked his little budding romance with Steph from the root before it even had a chance to sprout.
But I didn't. It wasn't that crucial to me. I had bigger fish to fry than a frosh named Lee.
"Peter," I said flatly, looking directly at Lee. He turned to me, and I could tell he was trying to keep his face from flushing. When had this become a battle between him and me? We'd hooked up one time. There wasn't any reason to make a pissing match out of it, and yet that's what was happening. I guess this was my comeuppance for ditching him two nights before.
"Well, I'll see y'all later, then," I said. I stumbled out of the house and on to the sidewalk. I got one house down when I heard footsteps behind me.
"Hey, wait up," Lee said, his voice reverberating with the familiarity from earlier in the week, and not laced with the gild he had put on for Stephanie.
"What's up?" I said, slowing down and letting him catch up.
"I'm gonna walk back to campus and change," he said. "Can I walk with you?"
"What about Brandon?"
"He's not going out, so he didn't need to change." I wondered what kind of understanding Lee and Brandon had that allowed Lee these moments of escape. If Brandon indeed knew the whole story, then he was an awesome wingman for getting out Lee's way whenever he needed to. I breathed in loudly and began my stride up the hill towards my house.
"So you and Steph," I said after another big breath. "That was interesting to see."
"It was nothing," he said. I turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "We hung out last night. That's it. She's cool. That's not a problem is it?"
"Of course not. It's just confusing," I said truthfully. There was no point lying. He'd seen how I acted in there. He knew I was affected.
"Yeah, I know. I guess... I don't know. I'm not sure what I want yet, you know?"
I looked at him and softened. It must have been hard, having feelings for two completely different things. I didn't blame him for liking a girl. I guess at the time, I just blamed him for liking my friend.
"Do you think she'll go for me?"
"All you can do is give it a shot, killer," I said, trying desperately to curb my attitude. He deserved a friend out of me, at least. And I had enough on my plate that I could do that for him.
"Look, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't tell anyone what we did," he said quietly, as if someone on the street was listening. I opened my eyes wide and craned my eyebrows. He laughed at the face I made.
It took me a second, but I eventually realized there was no point in giving Lee a hard time. He had served his purpose, and he had done a fine job at that. The afternoon we hung out had been one less afternoon I spent obsessing over Peter, and that was something. There was no attachment there. No future. No lingering feelings. But there was a small immature part of me that couldn't help but feel possessive. Protective.
I pushed that part of me aside and did what I knew was right.
"Of course," I said sincerely. "Your secret is safe with me. And if you need a wingman with Steph, I'm there."
I decided to try my best to remain objective about the whole thing. He was young. He had time to figure things out without my junior year influence. What he needed was my junior year friendship. Plus, he was still a rushee, which meant I had to be nice to him, at least until January.
I took a short nap when I got home, woke up at seven, showered and got dressed. I texted Pete after the shower and asked if he wanted to pre-game at my house or his. My plan was to leave for High Tower at 8:30 and get a solid hour of exclusive partying in before the doors opened up and everyone on campus filed in.
"Hey, Corbs," Hutch came into my room while I was putting on a pair of white Guess jeans and a v-neck.
"Hey buddy." He sat down on my couch. "Headed to the White Party?"
"Yessir," I said, pulling my shirt over my head. "Hence all of the white."
"Where's it at this year? We might come by when it opens up."
"High Tower. Off the BV Road."
"Far isn't it?" he asked. I sensed a tinge of jealousy that he wasn't going. "Who are you going with? Do you get to go with anyone?"
"I'm taking Pete," I replied, trying not to make it sound like a big deal.
"Cool. Need a ride?"
"I think we're going with Helen and Matt," I said, becoming aware that I had described the whole thing like it was a double date. "If I need a ride though, are you game?"
"Let me know before I start drinking."
"Speaking of..." I walked over to my fridge and pulled out some vodka. I mixed it with a Gatorade I had saved from nursing my hangover the day before.
"So you're really going after this Peter thing?" Hutch asked as I took a drink of my barely mixed mixed drink.
"I guess," I answered. "I wouldn't say I'm going after it though. We're friends. I'm being friendly."
Hutch raised an eyebrow. I walked over to the corner and picked up my cat, who after the first dose of medication was still too lethargic for my liking.
"For what it's worth, it seems like you're investing in him. A lot." I was beginning to sense that there was an ulterior reason that Hutch had walked into my room.
"Look, I'm the first friend he made here. Of course he's going to want to spend time with me. And I think he's cool, so... what's the problem?"
"No, there's no problem. I just want to make sure you don't set yourself up for any kind of disappointment."
"Hutch, I'm gay at Old Dominion. I'm always set up for disappointment."
"What about Lee? How's that going?"
"Is this the Rush Chair talking or my best friend talking?"
"Best friend, of course. Meeting's over."
"I don't know... he's talking to Steph Doleman," I said with a raised eyebrow. I didn't need to put up a front for Hutch. He'd see through it either way.
"Seriously? I thought..."
"Me too. But you never know with these young kids these days."
"True, I guess." Hutch sounded dubious.
"Whatever," I said. "It's O-week. The guy is gonna do what he's gonna do. And if he and Steph Doleman make it work, then good for them."
It would be a total lie to say I said that without a slight pang of jealousy. I was unclear at the time what exactly I was jealous of, but I definitely had emotions circulating around Lee and Steph, and I didn't particularly like them.
"Are you gonna tell her you've sucked her boyfriend's cock?"
"When you say it like that, it makes me sound like a dirty whore, so... no. Not gonna tell her."
"What if he does?"
"Then he does," I deadpanned. I was growing annoyed by the inquisition, and I think Hutch could tell.
"Okay. Do you still think he'll work out rush wise?"
"I think he likes this place," I shrugged. "I dunno. He's going to Pi Phi tonight, so..."
"Yeah, I think me and some of the sophomores are going to roll over there later, so we might do some deflecting."
"Sounds good. I mean, he's a decent kid."
"We have four months to figure him out," he said, tilting his head. I traced the side of my teeth with my tongue and agreed.
"Speaking of freshmen, what's the deal with Haley?"
"Okay, so she called me last night and ignored it, and she's been calling me all day."
"Oh... no bueno," I replied.
"I know. And apparently, she's been telling other freshmen girls that she's into me. It's like she's pissing all over me, or something."
"Metaphorically, I hope."
"Of course. I dunno. I'll see what the damage is when I'm out tonight. I'm not trying to be cock blocked from the entire freshman class because I slept with one girl during O-Week. Come on."
We continued to shoot the shit, and I continued to pre-drink until Pete got there.
"So, I um... called Mikey today," I confessed after about ten minutes of listening to Hutch talk about his freshman swim fan.
"Keydet Mikey? I thought we were done with that?"
"We are. We were... I dunno. I just wanted to call him."
"Why? He didn't talk to you all summer long." I shrugged. "Come on, Corbin. You don't want to go down that road again, do you?"
"I know he was distant this summer, but let's be real. I didn't try to call him either," I said. I had tried twice with Mike over the summer. We both talked a big game when we were together, but when it came to follow through, his was only slightly worse than mine.
"I don't want you falling back into that trap. What even made you think about him?"
"Being back," I said. "I was telling Pete about him..."
"You talked about the Cadet with the Brit?!? Are you an idiot?"
"Yeah. We were bonding, and I told him," I said. I looked down at my fingernails and brought my pinky up to my mouth. "That was a bad idea, wasn't it?"
"It was fucking stupid," Hutch called out. "Guys hate hearing about exes."
"Mike is not my ex," I stressed.
"Did you tell Pete that you've hooked up with him?"
"Yeah," I confessed.
"Really, Corbin?"
"What? Pete asked me about some of the other guys, and Mike is a big name for me."
"Really? Mike, the cadet who only calls you when he's fucking horny, picks you up and drops you off like a UPS mailman, and resorts to fucking you over any chance he gets... he's a big name?"
"First of all," I started in, my voice getting louder. "It's a little more complicated than that. I get it that it's not ideal, but it is what it is. I didn't ask to like this guy, it just happened to happen."
"And what did you accomplish by telling Pete about another guy that just happened to happen?"
"I don't know. Maybe Pete will see that I'm desirable," I reasoned. "If another straight guy wants me..."
"You're crazy," Hutch pointed out, matter-of-fact. Maybe I was, but it was done. I had told Pete about Mike... and a day later, Pete and I were going to the White Party together. It must not have been the worst plan ever.
"Pete asked me as a friend about my past relationships. I told him. As a friend."
"He asked you because he wanted to feel like he was special. He wanted you to tell him that you'd never really bonded with someone before."
"No, he didn't."
"Yes, he did."
"Well, if Pete wants to put me in the friend zone, that's what he's going to get," I reasoned. A second later, there was a knock on my door, and a British head popped in.
I saw the `oh shit' written all over Hutch's face.
"Can I come in?"
"Of course," I said, standing. "Hutch was just about to shower, weren't you Hutch?"
"Evidently," my friend said, standing and walking out.
"Did I interrupt something?"
"Not at all," I immediately downed my vodka and poured two more for the two of us. I wanted to assess if Pete had heard what Hutch and I were talking about, but there was no way I could know unless he told me. "How was your day?"
"It was good," he replied, extending his hand and taking the cup of vodka and Gatorade from my hand. "I matriculated."
"Nice," I said. "I heard you hung out with Amanda."
"Well, I can't ride your coattails all the time, can I?"
Except that you can, I thought. Instead of saying it, I shrugged, and sat down. Pete sat down next to me, with only Mister between us.
"You're in the chorus, right?" he asked, awkwardly... tentatively. It was almost like he was forcing the conversation.
"Yeah," I replied. "You should join."
"I was thinking about it. I'm meeting with the director tomorrow."
"Tell him I say hi." We drank and talked about what voice part he sang. Baritone. We also talked about what other things he did for fun. It turns out that Pete was an expert rower, and had participated in some really famous English regatta or something.
"Alright, killer," I said after two drinks. It was almost nine o'clock, and Helen had already sent out the text that they were on their way to pick us up. "Bottom's up, and let's go downstairs."
We finished our drinks, did one more straight shot, said bye to Mister, and left. Helen and Matt drove up a few minutes later and we headed to High Tower.
"Hey Helen," I said, getting into the back seat of her boyfriend's Jeep. "Matty."
"Hey guys," she said. "I haven't met you."
"I'm Pete," the Brit said, surprising me at how shy he seemed, even after several cocktails.
"The exchange student from... England?" Helen said.
"What tipped you off, honey?" Matt asked. I laughed.
"This is my douche lord boyfriend, Matt," Helen introduced. "And I'm Helen."
"Nice to meet you," Pete said, his accent thick and his voice slurred. Matt whipped the Jeep onto the freeway and drove us out to High Tower. Part of what made the White Party such an exclusive event was how far away from campus it was. Most people could get a ride to the River Houses or Windy Hill with no problem. But when it came to the two mansions that sat south of campus, just where the river opened up into a wide lake, the event had to be worth it. And proper planning had to be made.
Helen spent most of the car ride interrogating Pete about his plans for his year at OD. They talked shop on classes. She persuaded him to try out for the marketing intensive that happened second semester with my advisor, Professor Brown.
By the time we rolled up the hill to High Tower, Helen was telling another embarrassing story about Matt.
"I'm telling you, it was the funniest thing seeing him fall into the river last year," she said. "Matt, remember babe? He was just standing there, peeing into the water, and then splash. Into the river. And your phone didn't work for like four days!"
"I fell into the river, and you fell in love with me," he said, smiling at her.
"Oh, yeah. That's when that was."
"How long have you two been together?" Pete asked.
"It'll actually be a year in two weeks. We started hanging out after this party last year, and then I asked him to our formal. So yeah, almost a year," Helen answered.
"Wow," Pete said as the car rolled to a stop and we hopped out. We followed Matt up the walkway and through the door. They had a sophomore stationed at the front making sure everyone who got in was a brother or with a brother. Matt whispered something to the kid, and I saw them nod in mine and Pete's direction.
"Is security usually this tight at parties?"
"Only at this one," I whispered to Pete as we followed Matt upstairs. "Let's just say that they call it the White Party for a reason, and they can't risk anyone unknown coming in."
"As in..."
"Party favors," I whispered. It was a little after nine, and the house was already crowded. Most country parties didn't kick off until eleven or midnight, but the White Party was different.
Most of the girls who had received early access invites were Kappa or KD. It was fun running into the beauty queens of Old D and watching Pete tag along as I briefly caught up with all of them. Eventually, we followed Matt and Helen into a private room upstairs were people were clearly in between lines.
"Do you party?" I asked.
He gave me a blank stare.
"Nose candy? Cocaine?"
"Not really, no," he answered. "Do you?"
"I've done it twice," I replied truthfully. If I hadn't been with him that night, I might have done a line or two, or maybe some prescription ADD medication, but there was no way I was going to dabble if the Brit wasn't. When it came to the white, I could take it or leave it. "To be honest, it's not really my thing either. Let's just grab some drinks."
We walked into a bedroom, and I greeted the two brothers that I knew. It was important for me to make sure that people who didn't know me well could see that I knew enough Sigma Chi brothers to warrant being invited to the party. I introduced Pete to the circle as I poured two Grey Goose and waters.
The first hour of the party consisted of Pete and I hanging out, drinking, and watching people snort blow off various surfaces. He remained pretty close to me the whole time, and if he wasn't talking to me, he was stealing away with Helen.
"Be careful, Matty," I said to the circle, observing how quickly the two of them hit it off. I can't lie, I had been nervous bringing a relatively chill Pete to a party full of OD's `social elite'. Looking back now, I had nothing to worry about. With the accent alone, Pete was a charm. "Helen might go study abroad in England next year if you aren't careful."
"Fuck yeah," he replied, slapping her on the butt. "Let her go and see what she's missing! She'll come running back."
"Asshole," she replied, hitting him in the stomach. Their relationship was very Bonnie and Clyde. Hilarious until it became awkward.
At ten, the blow was put away, the folks filed downstairs, and the White Party became like any regular off campus house party. The freshman girls showed up in droves, packed like sardines into every available SUV known to Sigma Chi. The sophomore girls showed up shortly thereafter, hoping to hold on to some of the spotlight that was clearly shifting to the younger class. The studs from other fraternities weren't too far behind to pick up any pieces Sigma Chi left behind.
By eleven, what was an exclusive kick back had become a roaring rager: a free-for-all if ever there was one. I was running into friends of mine left and right, and I couldn't tell if Peter enjoyed it or was getting annoyed.
"Are you having a good time?" I asked, aware that the White Party was a different speed than anything else we'd done together. The students that were there were more superficial than those at Amanda's kick backs. They were more about being seen, making the proper hellos... and getting fucked up.
"Yeah," he smiled. "You're in your element!"
I nodded and smiled at him.
"Is this what a date with you would be like?" he asked. It had felt like the past two hours were a double date with me, Pete, Helen, and Matt. It gave me a sense of hope that he felt the same way.
"What do you mean?" I asked. I knew what he meant, but I wanted to hear him say it.
"Just the mixing and mingling. The wheeling and dealing. There isn't a stranger to you in this room."
"I guess," I replied. "I enjoy things like this for a while. But you know better than anyone that I also enjoy hanging out at home, one-on-one, so..."
He nodded and smiled at me.
"Want another drink?"
For the first time in almost a week, I thought that this was it. This was the night. Pete and I had connected more over the past two days than I had with anyone... ever. I could sense that he was picking up on it, asking me about dates and dating at OD. It wasn't the conversations about sex and blow jobs that people opened up for, I realized. It was those deeper moments that got people going.
It was while Pete was wading through the crowd that I ran into a sophomore Sigma Chi whom I had had the dreamiest crush on last year. Nick Parsons was the kind of guy that guys wanted to be and girls wanted to be with. He was hopelessly straight, and that was okay. It didn't change the fact that I would have done horrible things to him given the slightest chance. We stood around and did a couple of gin bucket shots out of turkey basters while he told me about his summer at the Parsons family ranch in West Virginia.
"Corbin, have you seen a live cow give birth to a baby fucking cow? You haven't lived until you've seen it man," he shouted over the music. If the subject matter wasn't so fucking disgusting, and my eye wasn't following Pete across the room, I might have pounced on Nick right then and there.
"I'm sure it was amazing," I contributed, not really paying attention to anything but his ice blue eyes.
"Was Stu there watching this cow give birth?" I asked about his brother, who I'd met twice and convinced to shave his head on his last trip to Clifton Hill.
"Stu was there, dude. He was there and he was loving it. It was amazing. Spiritual. Me, Stu, Nathan, we lit up, we sat back, and we watched the whole thing." He described the cow birth and then went on to talk about his week-long trip to Beach Week on the Virginia shore. I knew in my heart of hearts that Nick Parsons wasn't gay, but as high as he spent most of his days, I was convinced he'd at least let a guy kiss the tip.
"Two gin buckets," Pete announced upon his return. Nick gave him the classic Old Dominion once over. I wasn't sure what Pete thought of me talking to Nick, but there was something off about his expression. Unable to guess what was wrong, I introduced the two guys.
"Pleasure to meet you," Pete said, shaking Nick's hand.
"Likewise man. That's a fucking sweet accent."
"I'm from England," Peter explained.
"Well you enjoy man. My casa is su casa," he smiled a killer smile, and walked away. As hot as Nick was, I was standing next to the guy I wanted to spend the night with.
As the party progressed, however, it got more and more difficult to keep track of Pete. As I got drunk and rambled on with friends, I tried to include him, but the conversations were much too specific for someone who didn't know what we were talking about. At one point, Pete said he was going to walk around and find Helen. I wasn't worried about him holding his own in a social setting, so I let Pete and his accent wander. We'd find each other in the end, I was sure.
"Em has been trying to convince me to mix with y'all!" I said to Hannah Allison, the KD social chair, when I ran into her by the bonfire. She was a cute girl, very petite and very blonde. Not the brightest cookie, but hilarious.
"You have to mix with us!" I shouted back. "Our mixer is the most fun one y'all have."
"It really is, but our Nationals are weird about us mixing with houses that have strikes. It's a liability issue."
"Don't liability issue me, bitch," I shouted with a smile. "Our strike clears next week."
"You already have Chi-O and Theta for your Chi Beta Believe It Weekend, right? You don't need us anymore."
"First of all, you know we'll dump Chi-O for you any day," I said, meaning it. If I got KD to mix, we'd drop Chi-O like a bad habit. The only person who would care was Brian, and that's only because he'd have to care on Catherine's behalf. The rest of the brotherhood would thank me. Besides, I was sure I could finagle a way to replace Chi-O and still have them excited to mix with us on a smaller scale weekend. The wheels were already turning.
"Think about it," I reasoned loudly over the driving beat of T.I.'s Whatever You Like. "When we mix with y'all, all of our brothers come out. There's a huge budget because everyone agrees y'all are fucking gorgeous and worth it. Plus, there's a late night after, so everyone will be coming back to our house anyway. It's a win, win, win, win, win..."
"Okay, okay. I'm with you. I get it. I'll talk to the officers and see," Hannah Allison replied, loving a good social coup d'état. I knew that sorority types responded to nothing if not social competition and good flattery. I lathered on both, and began to hope with a little luck, I might be able to pull Chi Beta out of its slump... hopefully.
"We'll talk about it over srat lunch this week," I said. Hannah Allison nodded, and I went off to find Pete. I walked back inside the house. I looked around the dance floor and didn't see him anywhere. I ran into Helen first and asked if she knew where he was.
"He's talking to some Chi-O," Helen said. "I can't remember her name."
I knew her name. I knew it well. Even before I went all the way downstairs and saw them dancing closely in the corner, I knew he was with McKenzie `Slutton'. As if I didn't need another reason to burn Chi-O, when I turned from the stairwell to the backyard where a bonfire blazed just feet from the lake, I saw them standing there... close. Very close. Lips touching, hands roving close.
Much like last time, I decided to play it cool. No one needed to know I was pissed off inside. No one needed to know that I was equal parts jealous and betrayed... I was angry that she got to do with him what I didn't.
I walked back into the house, through the dance floor, telling myself that things could have been worse... they could have been upstairs by then, fornicating on some stranger's bed. But they weren't. They were simply making out like shameless school children under the bleachers at a fucking sock hop dance.
I spotted Emily Watts in the middle of the dance floor and pulled her in to dance with me. As everyone screamed `Taste of her cherry chapstick!' at the top of their lungs towards the end of I Kissed a Girl, I closed my eyes and envisioned Pete doing just that. Kissing a girl. And liking it.
I swallowed hard on what very well could have been alcohol induced bile.
"You okay?" Emily asked. I turned back to her and forced a smile.
"I'm good." Em and I kept dancing. At one point, I did a turn to survey the dance floor and saw that Pete and McKenzie had brought their little show inside. I was convinced the Brit had been sent to Old Dominion to do nothing but torment me.
Still, I was determined to have fun. I was more than determined not to notice them dancing.
`It's just dancing,' I told myself every time I spun to the beat and saw them.
I kept my eye on Pete as I sweat my way through several different songs. I was careful not to make it look like I was blatantly stalking him. I was also careful not to look like I was pissed. I had to concentrate on fixing my face whenever I felt myself dip into a scowl.
Pretending to have fun is difficult in that at some point, you start to actually have fun. After a few more drinks and a few more songs—including a brief three way dance with Emily and a Kappa Sig that I was convinced wanted to make out with me—I almost forgot that I was pissed at Pete to begin with.
That is, until I saw him by the keg about to pour another beer.
"Having fun?" I asked, wiping my brow. I'd seen him leaving the dance floor and decided it was time for me to casually run into him. I waded through the sea of white to the keg with my conveniently empty solo cup in hand.
"Yeah, I am," he said. "I lost track of you."
"You're getting good at that," I half-joked.
"That girl McKenzie is persistent," he offered up, unprovoked, as if he needed to explain his actions to me. It briefly annoyed me that he even did that, like I mattered in some way. I guess I only mattered when his lips weren't plastered to Slutton's face.
"Oh, is she here?" I asked nonchalantly. I took the tap from a freshman boy and pushed my way into the keg circle. "Is she still clinging to you?"
"Yeah," he said. He didn't exactly sound thrilled about it, but he didn't sound like he minded either. I thought quickly. If I let this go too far, if I let her get her clutches in, then I could kiss Pete goodbye for the rest of his American year. They'd date, and I'd never see him again- until his inevitable wedding to the broad- and he'd never realize that he and I were perfect for each other.
That doomsday scenario played out in my mind over the course of me filling up my cup. It probably wasn't that serious, to be honest, but in my inebriated brain, I had to get him to stop talking to McKenzie. If I didn't, I'd lose him before I had him. In other words, I had to think of a plan very quickly.
"I mean, she's a really nice girl," I said. "And pretty. I'd tell you to go for it."
"... but?"
"But what?" I feigned ignorance.
"You would tell me to go for it? Why won't you? What aren't you saying?" he sounded genuinely concerned.
"Look, I'm not trying to dissuade you of anything," I assured. "But if you're moving forward with this girl, I guess you deserve to know."
"Know what?" he had gone from concerned to downright anxious.
"Last year, and I'm not sure how true this whole thing is, but... last year, her boyfriend, Max Taylor, was treated for an STD at the health center." I shrugged my shoulders as if I had just told him what I'd eaten for lunch.
"How do... how do you know that?"
I looked at him. "Come on, Pete. It's my job to know these things. The girl has a reputation."
Peter suddenly got quiet. I felt bad for telling him, but at the end of the day, it's not like those two were destined to be married. He just wanted to fuck her for a night, and I wasn't prepared to let that happen. I was wholly aware of what an asshole I was being, but at that moment in time, I couldn't bring myself to care.
"Look, she's a sweet catch, so do what you want. Just make sure you're careful."
Without saying anything else, I walked around the dance floor and disappeared upstairs. Pete would do what he wanted, and if that still included sleeping with McKenzie Sutton, then so be it. I'd done all that I could.
I shook my feelings for Pete and McKenzie off for the rest of the night, and proceeded to get more and more drunk. It was the last big party before school started, and no one had limits that night. After about half an hour, the same guy I'd danced with earlier found me upstairs and asked when I was going back to town. It was an unmistakable question. No one asked when you were going back to town if they didn't want to go with you. I talked to him at the top of the steps for a while, until I saw Pete walk by alone.
"Hold that thought," I told the guy. I went downstairs.
"Hey, I was looking for you," Pete slurred. I could tell he was wasted. "You want to go back to campus? How are we getting back to town?"
"I'll find us a ride." He nodded. I smiled inside at the fact that Pete was ready to go home and McKenzie was nowhere to be found.
My cock block had worked like a fucking charm.
I went upstairs and found Matt. He called their sober drivers and arranged for one of them to pick us up. A few minutes later, a black Explorer with Maryland plates swung by High Tower to take Pete and I back to campus. I didn't even say goodbye to the Kappa Sig who probably wouldn't remember flirting with me in the morning.
I sat next to the Brit on the drive home, and before we made it out of the High Tower gravel driveway, he was already asleep on my shoulder.
"Where to?" the guy driving us asked, looking in his mirror at a British head rested peacefully on my shoulder.
"Chi Beta," I answered. Without even discussing it, Pete followed me into my house, up the stairs, and into my bed, where he fell asleep in a pair of my shorts, mouthing something incoherent about Mister. And for the fifth time in six days, my judgment failed me. I climbed in to bed with Pete and closed my eyes.
As always, all feedback is greatly appreciated. Email me at
jwolf24450@gmail.com. Thanks!