Oct 19, 2002

It was the middle of spring and the campus had an atmosphere of optimism. I was finishing up my sophomore year at a small state university, and was excited about summer break being only a month away. It had been a hard year, I'd kept myself busy between work and school. The hardships of being a poor college student - I know you've heard it all before.

One afternoon, my friends and I were in a dorm room, sitting around passing a joint. There was a new girl, named Rebecca, hanging out with us. She was apparently a friend of Jeff, a friend of mine. He introduced her as someone he'd met at summer camp a couple of years ago, and she was in town visiting him. I was curious to find out more details, but didn't want to ask.

She was slightly overweight, but kind of cute. She was kind of quiet, and apparently hadn't got high too many times because she kept going into these giggling fits and then acting all embarrassed about it. She had short brown hair, and really gorgeous blue eyes. Her tits, which of course were the first thing I checked out, were medium-largish size, probably a C cup.

As the afternoon wore on I finally admitted to myself that I was attracted to her, since I was a little overweight myself. The girls that looked like the playboy models I was always jacking off to were very unavailable to me, probably because I lusted after them so badly I couldn't even talk to them. Every now and there would be a semi-intellectual hot chick that would hang out with us, but we were a little too intellectual for most people.

Rebecca was different though. None of the other guys I hung out with (that were straight) really seemed all that interested in her. They seemed to treat her like she was a tolerated house guest, which I guess she was. She had just sort of showed up in town, begging for a place to stay.

Later, we decided to head off to one of our favorite spots to hang out, a secluded little park out in the countryside by the river. As usual, I and a couple of others brought our guitars to plink on while we drank and got even higher.

When we got to the park we built the pre-requisite campfire, even though it was getting to be almost too warm for one. As we settled in for an evening of social fun, I made sure to find a spot to sit right next to her. I didn't have to give one single dirty look for the privilege, it seemed Jeff and I were the only ones brave enough to sit by her.

Through the evening we did our normal thing, which was to discuss whatever the freaky subject of the day was. I think we wound up discussing some book by Aleister Crowley, and his ideas of using the Tree of Life to categorize and compartmentalize understanding of the universe. I told you we were freaky intellectuals. You didn't believe me, did you?

So after an hour or so, the group (there were about eight of us I think) fragmented into smaller conversations with comments crossing over between groups.

Shay, the drama queen (and one of the two admitted fags), stood up and starting reciting Edgar Allan Poe, high as a kite. His arms would flail and his head would rock from side to side as he affected some half-British, half-midwest accent that always cracked everybody up. I think he always did this half for attention, half because he loved poetry and half because he enjoyed cracking us all up. The attention and cracking us up part are pretty much the same thing, I guess.

"Lo, tis a gala night
within the lonesome latter years!
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
in veils, and drowned in tears,
sit in a theater to see
a play of hopes and fears,
while the orchestra breathes fitfully
the music of the spheres."

Of course, that was my cue to start some little guitar riff I'd done once when he was acting out like this. It had become a ritual, and I kinda liked it. As he went on, I played faster. He was working up to a frothy spittle. I was surprised he could stand, scream poetry and hop around while dead drunk. But, then, he was always a surprise. Then when the last stanza came, I would slow it down as he did also.

"Out - out are the lights - out all!
And, over each quivering form,
the curtain, a funeral pall,
comes down with the rush of a storm,
while the angels, all pallid and wan,
uprising, unveiling, affirm
that the play is the tragedy, 'Man,'
and its hero the Conqueror Worm."

As we finished, Rebecca laughed and clapped along with everybody else. And then, when we had all quieted down, she gave me The Look. Every man knows the look, that's the one women give you when they WANT you.

I didn't even notice it when she did it, because I'd never had a girl I was halfway interested in give me The Look. Usually, it was some really ugly girl, and she wanted me on some false pretense - not because of anything I was proud of being or doing. I know that's probably a bit complicated, but "a considered life" has implications that a lot of people don't, well, consider.

But here - now - was a real flesh-and-blood girl that I was attracted to, and she was attracted to me. Thankfully, my guitar playing keeps me from spending all of my time smoking and drinking. What I mean is that if I had been as high and drunk as Shay, I'd have passed right out because a large volume of my blood went straight into my dick. Since I was only slightly high I was able to avoid hypovolemic shock, although I did get a little dizzy for a bit.

I struck up a conversation with Rebecca. I found something completely new, and that was a conversation with a member of the opposite sex where both of us knew that the other was ready to fuck at any given time.

Laugh, go ahead. It's not like I was a virgin, but I was virginal enough. Getting drunk and fucking some girl whom you barely know is generally the aim of most college students, and I'd pulled it off a time or two. Okay, once.

It was a new kind of high for me. As a matter of fact, I kind of wished that I wasn't high at all, so I could really experience the feeling. We talked about things, even though we didn't have much in common. We talked about dreams (the sleeping kind) and dreams (the future kind), the things that any two humans always have in common.

I kept playing the guitar, trying to remember anything I could that would impress her. She wasn't impressed by Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath or Rush. Getting desperate, I tried the few riffs I knew of the normal radio fare. Every time I'd play the two bars I knew of the song, she'd look expectantly at me for the rest of the song, or ask me if I knew the words.

Eventually I gave up trying to impress her and just farted around with chord progressions that I liked.

"That's pretty, what is it?" she asked.

Thinking amazingly quickly for being neither on my feet nor having a full supply of blood to the brain I said "Oh, just something I made up."

Her eyes lit up. "You wrote that?"

"Uh, yeah. I did," I ventured. It was true enough, I was just making it all up off the top of my head.

She gave me the first non-shy smile I'd seen, and scooted over closer to hear. I was playing really softly, and the group was working itself into a fairly good roar. Of course, that meant that she was now actually touching me. I surprised myself by not freaking out at all or getting nervous. I just smiled and kept playing.

By now, everyone was getting totally shitfaced. Quite a few joints had been around the circle, and the sixth bottle of Boone's wine was being emptied. I had noticed that Rebecca had passed on most of the tokes (although not all) but had taken plenty of drinks. I was nearly sober by then, because I usually volunteered to drive. I guess I liked living.

Rebecca had been pressing closer and closer in to me until she was holding me as I held the guitar. I could feel her breasts press into my back and left side and had been enjoying the hell out of it for a while now. She had stopped talking some time ago, and I guess I was thinking she was just enjoying being close. But when things were wound down and it was time to think about finding a tree to piss on and closing down the party, I realized that she was passed out.

Then it hit me - we weren't going to be fucking tonight. I guess I had assumed that we were going to go back and find some private spot to make out, make love and then sleep in each others arms. It had seemed pretty much inevitable, but now it was unlikely.

I entertained thoughts of taking her over to my apartment and making separate sleeping arrangements. Then we'd wake up in the morning before class eat breakfast and maybe each other.

I approached Jeff and asked "So where is Rebecca staying? She could stay at my place -".

"Dude, are you taking advantage of drunk women now?" he interrupted. "She's staying at my apartment, I have an extra room and a bed. Would you help me get her into the car?"

That nixed it, I didn't want the only person she trusted in town to think I was an asshole. "No way, man. I just wanted to make sure she had a place to crash, that's all."

Jeff and I loaded her into my car. I checked with Chad, the guy driving the other car to make sure he was safe, sane and sober. He was.

We drove back to town, and I helped Jeff take Rebecca up a flight of stairs to his apartment. She was halfway conscious and kept saying "Oh... I think I'm gonna be sick."

I was holding her under one arm and Jeff the other. All I could think of was how good she felt and how much better she would feel without any clothes on. After we were in Jeff's apartment, she said she had to go to the bathroom. We helped her to the door of the bathroom and she seemed to be able to stand well enough on her own to handle it. Jeff didn't really want to help her and I really did, but had to pretend I didn't. We left her to it and waited outside the closed door.

After five minutes, we hadn't heard anything and Jeff pounded on the door. "Are you alright in there?"

"Yesh," she slurred. We heard some activity and the toilet flush. She opened the door a bit later. We helped her down the hall to her room where she collapsed on the bed. I gave her a lecture on sleeping on her side so she wouldn't choke on her own vomit and she promised she would stay that way and then went right to sleep.

I said goodnight to Jeff and headed to my car. My mind was a swirl of thoughts and emotions. I couldn't get my mind off of how it felt to have her next to me all night and how it would feel to be inside her.

I got back to my apartment, stripped off my clothes, and laid down in bed. My dick was rock hard and I knew I'd never be able to sleep. I choked the chicken and cleaned up the mess, no need for the assistance of Penthouse at all.

The next day I got out of bed without a hangover, one of the best advantages of sobering up before the party was done. I ate the usual breakfast of scrambled powdered eggs and chili powder and headed for class. I thought a lot about Rebecca, but had a full day so tried to concentrate on what was in front of me.

I went to my Comp Two class at nine and sat down beside Shay. Shay groaned, "You asshole. I hate you." Thankfully, we were the only people in the room so far.

"What's up buddy, having a rough morning?" I laughed.

"I think I'm gonna die," he whispered. His eyes were bloodshot and the whole cliched bit.

"Man, you look like shit. That's no way to impress the boys, gay boy." Both of us were midwestern, but somehow I never could understand the attitude most guys I knew had toward gays. I knew I wasn't gay, and Shay knew he was. What did it matter? We could joke about it without getting any feelings hurt. Besides, he only hit on me when he was really drunk.

"Yeah, well, you should stop chasing pussy and get yourself a real man. Like last night, had some fresh cunt hanging off of you."

For some reason, I took it as a slap in the face. "She's not a cunt, man," I scowled. "She's nice."

That seemed to wake him up. "Dude, I'm sorry. It was just a joke," he seemed genuinely sorry.

"It's OK. But, I kind of like her." Forgiveness has always been one of my strengths. I'm not much of an aggressive person.

"Sorry, man. You know I'm the sensitive type who always respects true love. No matter what the sexual orientation. Speaking of, do I really look that bad?"

I nodded.

"Shit, I'm never gonna get laid that way. I'll be right back, gotta powder my nose. Watch my stuff." He got up and headed down the hall in the direction of the men's room. That's good, as hungover as he was I half expected him to head in the direction of the women's restroom.

When he came back a few minutes later, the classroom was mostly full and he looked more like his usual, gay, self. He came into the room as his usual Drama Queen self, slowly swinging his hips and looking all of the cute guys in the eye. I chuckled to myself. What a fag.

As we went through class, I found myself thinking about Rebecca again and again. I finally gave up and just started fantasizing about her. Thankfully I'd jacked off last night, or I'd have to run find a bathroom stall and take care of it now.

After class, I said goodbye to Shay and headed off to finish up my day. I had a two hour lunch break, but I had to spend all of it doing some calculus homework. In the afternoon, I went to work at the computer center and spent the rest of the evening there.

I had a paper due the next day, and it wasn't a "party night," meaning nobody was planning on getting together. Wednesdays and Fridays were the social nights for everyone because most people didn't have Tuesday or Thursday classes. Usually they didn't have classes those days so they could concentrate on the important things, like recreational chemicals.

Unfortunately, I was stupid and taking a heavy load so I could pull off my double major. I was also working, so I didn't have a lot of time during the week to do anything except the required Wednesday night intellectual round table and marijuana taste test.

Finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. Most of the students at the college had parents no more than two hours away, so the entire town lost half of its population sometime Friday afternoon. Usually, those who stayed in town on the weekends didn't really make friends with those who did. I think that was just the natural order of things.

Shay had told me that everybody was getting together tonight, and that we'd meet over at Jeff's. As I headed over, I started getting a little nervous. I wondered how much of her affection had just been that she was drunk, and I wondered how much of it she even remembered at all.

When I got there, they were already passing the bong, and there were only the four of us - myself, Shay, Jeff and Rebecca. I sat my guitar case in the corner and sat down on the couch next to Shay.

"Hi, Dad!" Rebecca greeted me with a smile. After my quizzical look, she said "You don't remember the lecture on, what did you call it, 'asphyxiation by vomitus'?" She was grinning like an idiot.

I groaned. I had spent most of my life at the library after school waiting for my mom to get off of work. There's not much to do in a town with seven thousand people, so you find your own ways to entertain yourself. I'd read several medical textbooks and wound up taking a First Responder class at the local vo-tech. First Responder is kind of like a junior EMT course that they give to police and firefighters.

Sometimes I was a little too geeky, even for myself. I realized that I might be too geeky even for her. Then I realized that if she had remembered my speech, then she had probably remembered the rest of last night as well.

"Sorry about last night, I was really tired, and I guess I'd had too much to drink," she apologized. Then she gave me a slightly modified version of The Look. It wasn't a sultry "Fuck Me" bedroom Look, and it wasn't the "You're so hot" Look of last night. It was kind of a you-know-and-I-know-it's-our-little-secret Look.

I smiled.

Jeff suggested we play a game of Spades. Shay quickly agreed and Jeff said "I got Shay," with a sly smile. Both Shay and Jeff were consummate cheaters at Spades. They sat down across the card table in the kitchen, eager to show their Spades abilities as a team.

I groaned and moaned and smiled at Rebecca. "They cheat. Always," I told her with a faked serious look on my face. "Watch for hand signals and slap him if you can reach him, no matter who it is." Rebecca solemnly promised to do so.

I won the card draw and got first deal. Before I even started, Shay shouted "Blind Nil!" I laughed. This was gonna be fun.

Shay and Jeff cheated as much as they could, with Rebecca slapping Jeff once on the arm and me hittin Shay once on the shoulder. Rebecca, surprisingly, turned out to be very good. My estimation of her rose dramatically. I asked her how she got to be that way.

"Yahoo games, Jeremiah." She said my name for the first time. Both my name and the fact that she knew her way around a computer were music to my ears. I smiled.

I found, several hours later, that I still had a big smile on my face. It wasn't too obvious, because just about everybody did since we'd been getting high. But mine was a bigger smile than I was used to having.

We decided to go get a movie. We wound up going to my place, since I had my "music fan" stereo hooked up to my DVD player. Ahh, the joys of racking up credit card debt in college. I'd bought a guitar, stereo, TV and DVD player, and then found that my thousand dollar line of credit was already full. I'd barely had enough left to get a cash advance for a few bottles of Captain Morgan's before I realized I was broke again.

We settled down at my place. I was the last one to be seated, and found that Jeff and Shay, most excellent friends that they were, had left me a spot on the couch next to Rebecca. As I sat down I noticed that she was closer to me than she was the other side of the couch. I wasn't complaining.

Having a job in college is a wonderful thing, I highly recommend it, even if it's minimum wage. That gives you money for the best things in life, like alcohol, pot and munchies. Rebecca and I shared a big bowl of popcorn, and Shay and Jeff shared another.

We had decided to rent "Titan AE", overriding Shay's choice of "Saturday Night Fever." We had to watch "The Matrix" first. It was one of the few DVDs I actually owned, and we watched it at least once a month. Rebecca hadn't seen The Matrix before and absolutely loved it.

I had to wonder if she'd lived under a rock for that past few years. "You've never seen The Matrix?" I asked.

"My dad didn't let us watch movies," she replied sadly.

"None? Was it against their religion or something?" Shay asked incredulously.

"Yes," she replied a little sadly. She didn't say anything more, but both Jeff and I knew what she was talking about. There were a couple of Jesus cults in the midwest that literally believed watching movies was a sin.

"That's why I left," she volunteered into Shay's silence. "The only movies I got to see were those on television. I never got to hang out with friends, or go on a date," with that last she looked me right in the eye. I understood exactly what that meant. She was a virgin.