“It’s okay,” she says gently. “It’s just one party. And this can be your party quota for the semester. Your grades are perfectly safe if you party once.”
I nod. She’s right. It’s just one party. I breathe in and out slowly with her, and the swirling in my brain fades away.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. That was stupid.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Jade says, opening the door and gesturing for me to step through.
Easier said than done.
“Oh, wait!” Jade says, just as she’s stepping through the door for a second time. She rushes back to her room and emerges seconds later holding two candy necklaces. She shoves one on my head, over my cat ears. I try to adjust it to make it more comfortable, but it pinches my neck and sits flush against my skin, feeling more like a choker.
“I haven’t worn one of these in ages.” I tug on the elastic and it pulls at my skin. The candy digs into my neck, determined to ruin my night. I start to remove it, but Jade slaps my hands away.
“Stop it! This is a prime man magnet.”
“Man magnet?”
“Yes, a man magnet. You can thank me later.” She totters away on her four-inch heels.
“Thank you later? For what?” I call after her, scurrying behind on my flats, probably a bit too much like a cat.
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be as much fun as you figuring it out yourself,” Jade says, practically power-walking out of our dorm building but turning to wink at me. She tugs on the elastic of her own candy necklace and licks her top lip. It’s a sexy gesture, and I finally catch her meaning.
“Did you give me this so some guy could, like, eat this off my neck? Is that supposed to be sexy?”
“That’s exactly what I mean, and trust me on this, itissexy, and it usually leads to much more than just kissing.” She winks over her shoulder at me again.
I should have expected something like this. When Jade and I first moved in together I remember being floored by how easily and openly she talked about sex. She was amused by how naïve I was. Until I started dating someone about a month into the semester, Jade was constantly offering to introduce me to “a nice young man” because she said I seemed “wound a little tight” and “could use a good screw” to loosen up a bit. I declined each time, but apparently now she’s back to her old tricks.
I’ve obviously spent too much time with her because I wonder for a moment if she’s right. Maybe I do need to loosen up a little. Just the idea of coming out tonight had me sweating like I was in a jungle.
No—I have to stay vigilant. What if I have so much fun I start partying again every week? Multiple nights a week? No. Just tonight. I’ll take off the candy necklace when she’s not looking and she’ll never know.
“How thoughtful of you. Always looking out for me,” I say, but Jade isn’t fazed by my sarcasm.
“Jessie, if you don’t get laid soon, I’m going to do it myself.”
“I might be into that,” I say as we make our way to fraternity row.
“You’re not my type,” Jade says.
“You always say that, and it hurts my feelings.” I stick out my bottom lip, pouting, and Jade snaps my candy necklace. As the hard candy thuds against my vocal cords, something between a squeal and a groan comes out of my mouth. The sound sends us into a fit of giggles, and we walk the rest of the way to fraternity row bent over with laughter, trying to snap each other’s candy necklaces.
The campus of Middle Penn College is small enough that everything is walkable. Our dorm is nestled at the top of a slope with the other on-campus dorms, farthest from fraternity row. The walk is only ten minutes, but it feels shorter, and by the time we hear the thumping bass and electronic beat I’m more relaxed and even a little grateful Jade convinced me to come out. I’ll just stay until she finds someone else to hang out with and then sneak off.
As we crest the last hill, a row of six large houses comes into view. Red bricks and white columns make these houses look like they belong in the late 1800s, not the twenty-first century. From the outside one might assume the insides are spacious and bright with plush carpets, spiral staircases, and large chandeliers, but in reality they reek of beer, pot, cigarettes, and body odor, and their defining feature is crunchy carpet. Heavy wooden accents make them feel like a house someone’s rich grandfather decorated and refused to let anyone change. They’re crammed with thrift store furniture and somehow always littered with red Solo cups.
The legendary Halloween party Jade and I are attending is hosted by Alpha Tau Zeta, a house known for attracting science and math majors. I don’t know any pledges or brothers at this house. Jade knows a few, but that doesn’t matter for parties like this. Practically the whole campus is on fraternity row tonight because Halloween is a big deal around here. There’s a yearly competition between the fraternities for “best decorated,” and even though the only prize is bragging rights, these guys take it very seriously. This year on the ATZ lawn, twenty skeletons reenact a scene fromPirates of the Caribbean. It’s impressive, with a massive cardboard ship, a slew of props—think empty rum bottles and treasure chests—and all the skeletons dressed in elaborate pirate costumes. I pause to take in the scene, but Jade pulls me along, dragging me into the house through the front door.
Jade likes to scope out who’s upstairs before we head downstairs, where the real party is, and since I don’t feel up to being super social tonight, while she makes her rounds I head to the kitchen for drinks.
I’ve always wondered if the guys who live in the frat house even use this kitchen. I’ve only ever seen it the way it looks now: the island in the middle a makeshift beer pong table, the counters absolutely packed with alcohol and various juice containers, the floor sticky with the cornucopia of drinks that have been spilled on it. There are always about four too many people in here, and I squeeze my way past a couple making out to pour a couple of drinks for me and Jade.
Two years ago I would have made two drinks for me and two for Jade and that would have just been the start. I didn’t party in high school—I was too busy with school and extracurriculars and a weekend job—so when I got to college I got a little carried away with the freedom. I thought I’d be able to balance school and my social life, and I failed pretty hard. So I just make two drinks tonight—a vodka and cranberry juice for each of us.
“Hey, gorgeous,” some drunk guy says, somehow appearing next to me without my noticing. He leans his elbow on the counter and stands way too close, his breath smelling like an ashtray took a bath in a tub of cheap beer.
“No, thank you,” I say, clutching my drinks and walking away. I squeeze past the couple again, realizing they now have their hands in each other’s pants. “Get a room,” I mumble under my breath, rolling my eyes. I know this is a party, but there really should be a limit to how much touching people are allowed to indulge in publicly.
