by Cassie Beebe
“Hey,” he greeted, taking the closest seat, across from Callie.
“Hey!” Angela chimed. She turned her attention back to her friend as Jacob settled in, pulling out a notebook and pen, along with his new-to-him Biology textbook. “But yeah, it’ll be fun, I promise,” she continued their previous conversation.
“Why did they make it on a Monday?” Callie wrinkled her nose.
“Yeah, that was poor planning,” Angela agreed, pursing her lips at a bright pink piece of paper. “I don’t know. Maybe they had to postpone it because of the rain last weekend,” she shrugged.
“Hm,” Callie muttered, absent mindedly scrolling shapes in her notebook with her mechanical pencil. “Maybe.”
“Are you coming tonight, Jacob?” Angela asked.
Jacob looked up at the mention of his name, and Callie peeked over her glasses briefly before continuing her abstract doodles. “Am I coming to…?” he trailed off questioningly.
“They’re having a bonfire by the pond tonight for all the new Freshman,” Angela explained, passing over the brightly colored flier they had been appraising before his arrival. “Sort of a celebration of surviving our first week, I guess,” she laughed.
“Oh,” he scanned the flier, raising his eyebrows at the start time. Nine o’clock seemed far too late for a party to begin.
“You should come with us,” Angela smiled. Callie glanced up from her notes again.
“Oh,” Jacob repeated, surprised. He hadn’t realized this was an official invitation to join them. “Um…,” he mulled over the offer for a moment, mentally calculating how long he would be required to stay for the sake of civility, trying to imagine what kinds of activities would be involved in a college party, and counting the maximum number of hours of sleep he would be granted after such an excursion.
“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Angela prodded. “Plus, Brandon will be stopping by, so Callie’ll need someone to keep her company.”
Jacob watched Callie blush, catching the not-so-subtle nudge she gave her best friend under the table.
“I thought the party was just for Freshman?” Callie noted.
“Yeah, well, he acts like a Freshman, so he should fit in fine,” Angela joked.
Jacob passed back the flier, still deliberating, when a tan girl with heavy blonde highlights plopped down in the seat beside him. All three of them turned in her direction at the noise of the metal chair legs screeching against the linoleum floor.
“Sorry,” she said between smacks of her fragrant, cinnamon gum. She was tapping at her phone with perfectly manicured fingernails, pulling up the self-facing camera to check her lipstick.
Angela and Callie exchanged a dubious glance.
The professor entered before Jacob could respond to the party invitation, and he started class off quickly by announcing that the person sitting beside each student would be their lab partner for the remainder of the semester. Every student glanced beside them with reactions varying from pleasure, to disappointment, to disinterested acceptance.
Jacob appraised the girl beside him, and she returned the gesture. Upon giving him a once-over, she sat up a little straighter in her chair, a smile gracing her glossy, pink lips as she flipped her long waves over her shoulder. He returned her smile with a bit of apprehension, reminding himself not to judge a book by its cover.
The professor jumped right into the assignment of the day, directing the students toward the refrigerator full of dead rats marinating in formaldehyde. He passed around a large stack of papers that detailed the process of dissection and pulled up a slide on his power-point presentation with a list of questions for each group to answer about their subject of mutilation.
“I’m Amber, by the way,” Jacob’s partner smiled, scooting her chair closer to better share their tools.
“Jacob,” he replied, sliding the preserved rat out of the Ziploc bag with his gloved hands.
Amber’s sultry smirk turned down as she grimaced at the smell.
“Ugh, why do they even make us do this?” she complained. “I mean, what’s the point?”
She picked up a pair of tweezers and hesitantly prodded at the rat’s midsection with a frown. Jacob sighed at the confirmation of his suspicion that he would be stuck with the dirty work in this partnership.
“Do you want to just take notes?” he suggested unenthusiastically.
Her expression perked up. “Yeah?” she asked, hopeful.
He shrugged. Maybe it would be easier to have her out of the way.
She smiled and removed her gloves, retrieving from her messenger bag a notebook and a sparkle-covered pencil with a pink puff of feathers covering the eraser.
Across from them, Angela and Callie made quick work of their dissection, already jotting down the gender of their rat.
“Poor Francis,” Callie lamented, gently petting the whiskers with the tip of her glove-covered finger.
Angela barked a laugh. “Did you seriously name him Francis?”
Callie nodded with a snicker.
“Because of the guy at the carnival?” she laughed again. “Oh my gosh, that’s perfect. He’s totally a Francis.”
Jacob smirked at their contagious laughter, despite not being privy to the inside joke. He turned back to his paper, observing the lines indicating where the first incisions should be made. Using the scalpel and the scissors, he sliced through the thick skin of the belly while his partner squirmed beside him.
It was a long hour. He prodded around the chest cavity of his rat, dictating the answers to the questions on the power-point to Amber, so she could write them down. He grew tired of her whining over the grotesque task in which she wasn’t even participating, but at least the smell had forced her to move her chair a bit further away from him.
After the rats were covered and stored away for Wednesday’s continuation of the torment, Angela bid them farewell and Jacob and Callie fell in step together on their way to their next class.
“That was fun,” Callie mused.
Jacob scoffed. “For you,” he said.
She giggled. “What, is there something wrong with your lab partner?” she teased.
“It’s fine,” he rolled his eyes with a smirk. “I’m used to doing things on my own.”
Jacob held the door to their next class open for Callie, and she smiled coyly at the gesture.
They settled into their seats, the quiet, tired mutterings of their fellow classmates filling the room. The professor, Doctor Bell, clapped her hands together, calling the class to attention.
“Alright, alright, people, let’s get this party started,” she announced. “Okay, so first things first…,” she trailed off, pushing her frizzy bangs out of her eyes as she rapidly scanned her notes for the day. “Oh! Right!” she exclaimed, punctuating the action by tossing the notebook haphazardly onto the desk behind her, knocking over a stack of papers in the process. “Have I told you guys about the final project yet?” she asked, squinting as she tried to remember.
The class exchanged glances, a few shaking their heads.
“No? I didn’t think so. Okay, well, here’s the deal,” she began, pacing across the front of the room as she explained the assignment. “In groups of two or three, I want you all to start thinking about a social experiment you’d like to conduct over the course of the semester.”
Jacob’s stomach contracted at the notion of a group project. He gave a sidelong glance to Callie, hoping she didn’t have any other partners in mind.
“More instructions to come on that. You don’t have to worry about it too much yet, but I wanted to give you a heads up, so you can let those wheels start turning,” Doctor Bell continued, making wheel-turning motions by her temples. “But!” she clapped her hands together. “For now, let’s jump into Chapter Two. Thoughts? Anyone? Bueller?” she chuckled at her own joke.
The class discussion was lively, which seemed to be the only way Doctor Bell knew how to teach. By the time the clock struck noon and the students began gathe
ring their belongings, boisterous conversations were already filling the room with noise, everyone having gotten a second-wind from the class. Jacob picked up his books and headed for the door, Callie trailing just behind him.
“What’s your next class?” she asked when the door shut behind her, burying the noise behind it.
“I have a free period ‘til one, so I’ll probably get some food,” he answered.
“Oh, cool,” she replied.
“Are you headed that way, too?” he inquired.
“No, I have a study group,” she ran her fingers through her hair, looking down at the cracks in the pavement as they walked. “So… I guess I’ll see you around,” she said when they reached the fork in their path.
“Yeah, I, uh…,” he paused, mulling over his conflicted thoughts about the party that evening. “I’ll see you tonight,” he decided.
She smiled brightly. “Oh, really? You’re coming?”
“Yeah, I’ll stop by,” he clarified noncommittally.
“Great,” she grinned. “Well, I’ll see you then,” she said with a small wave.
“See ya,” he reciprocated.
Throughout lunch and his last class of the day, Jacob fidgeted as he anticipated his new evening plans. He thought about his limited wardrobe, pondering whether something more formal than a plain t-shirt and jeans was required for such an event. He had never been one for crowds. Even in high school, when he was more accustomed to being around large groups of strangers, he didn’t have much experience with parties. He was rarely invited to any, aside from the few that his sister would drag him to, and even then, he usually spent most of the night huddled in a corner somewhere, watching the clock and wondering when she would be ready to leave. But this was a new life, a new Jacob, and if he was going to make friends here, he knew he had to make an effort.
By the time he made it back to his dorm, he had had enough time to appraise the attire of the men around him on campus, and he deemed his black t-shirt appropriately comparable to the formality of his fellow students. He vaguely recalled his sister educating him on the custom of being “fashionably late” to such events, so he tried to focus on his homework until the clock ticked past 9pm.
Triple-checking his campus map one last time before ducking out the door, he made his way to the pond on the back end of campus. It was a bit of a trek down the bike path that weaved through ripe fields of wildflowers, and a family of geese waddled alongside him for a few minutes of the journey. He stuck to his side of the path, avoiding eye contact with the mother of the gaggle, as he had overheard several stories since he arrived there that eluded to the violent nature of the campus creatures. Apparently, they were known to strike at a moment’s notice.
Thanks to his caution, the birds eventually trotted off, and he made it through the maze of tall grass and cottontails unscathed. The path opened up to a spacious patch of dirt that surrounded nearly half of the large, oval-shaped body of dark water. Despite the late hour, the party was illuminated well by the light of the moon shimmering on the nearly-still water and, most prominently, the massive fire burning hot and bright in the center of the space.
The area was already swimming with bodies, many of them grinding along to the loud, pop music blaring from a nearby radio. He said a silent thank-you to Maggie for passing on her wisdom when he noted that he was far from being the first person to arrive, and he scanned the faces of the crowd for his new friends.
“Jacob!” someone called out from across the field, catching his attention.
His eyes settled on a table of drinks and snacks, close to the water, and he saw Angela, waving him over exuberantly. Her braided hair was free from its usual pile atop her head, and it fell down to her hips, just a half a foot above the hem of her snug, cerulean dress. Callie was sipping from a red, plastic cup by her side, sporting a modest black dress and a pair of strappy, red heels that made her legs wobble on occasion and raised her up to a height equal to her taller friend.
He weaved through the crowd and made his way to the table.
“You made it!” Angela greeted brightly upon his arrival, raising her voice to surpass the volume of the music.
“I did,” he replied. “The geese tried to keep me away, but I was determined,” he joked.
“Ugh, those geese,” Angela rolled her eyes dramatically. “I heard two different people were attacked just last week.”
“Yeah, I heard that, too,” he said.
“Well, I’m glad you made it out alive,” she chuckled. “Oh! Hey!” she called over Jacob’s shoulder, waving someone else over to them with a wide grin.
Jacob turned around when the man approached, stepping aside to make space for him in their circle.
“Hey, babe,” the man greeted, pulling Angela in for a hug and kiss handsy enough to compel Jacob to look away. His eyes settled on Callie, who gave him a playful eyeroll that indicated this kind of PDA wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Jacob chuckled in response.
When she finally came up for air, Angela said, “Brandon, this is Jacob,” remembering her manners.
The man reluctantly tore his eyes away from Angela long enough to appraise Jacob.
“This is my boyfriend, Brandon,” Angela introduced proudly, looking up at her man in admiration.
“Hey,” Jacob replied, shaking hands with the tall, dark-skinned man. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, you too,” Brandon replied, his other arm still slung tightly around Angela’s waist, holding her close to his side as she chugged the last bit of her drink. Letting go of Jacob’s grip, he turned his attention back to her. “What do you say I take this beauty to the dance floor?” he asked, giving her attire a long, appreciative glance.
“Um…,” Angela hesitated, glancing back at Callie with a hopeful expression.
She rolled her eyes again. “I’m fine, Ang,” she dismissed. “Have fun.”
Brandon was already pulling her toward the crowd of closely-packed bodies jumping and moving with the music. She gave Callie and Jacob a quick wave, leaving them alone.
Angela’s exit left behind a moment of uncomfortable silence as Callie sipped her drink and bobbed her head gently to the music. Jacob stood a few feet in front of her, tapping his foot against the dirt and glancing around at the twinkling lights in the tree canopies he hadn’t noticed before.
He turned back to Callie, taking in her dark hair in its usual smooth, straight style, and her dusty pink, lace dress.
“I like your dress,” Jacob offered, making conversation.
“Oh, thanks,” she smiled, absently wiping the lipstick from the rim of her cup. “Do you want something to drink?” she asked.
“Uh… what’s in it?” he asked, appraising the punch bowl on the table.
“I don’t know,” she frowned at the cup in her hands. With a guilty grimace, she added, “I guess it’s probably not the smartest thing to drink something when you don’t know what it is.”
Jacob chuckled. “Probably not, no.”
She glanced around to ensure nobody was looking, then timidly slipped her cup back onto the table. Crossing her arms, she looked out at the crowd, and Jacob followed her gaze to where Angela and Brandon were moving together by the fire.
“I didn’t realize she was so… outgoing,” Jacob noted as Angela pressed her backside more firmly against her boyfriend, pushing his hands from her waist to her hips.
Callie chuckled at the choice of word.
“She can be. When she’s not stuck babysitting me,” she rolled her eyes again. “She’s probably glad you came, so she doesn’t have to feel bad about ditching me.”
“Not a dancer, huh?” he inquired.
She turned to appraise his expression. “Are you… asking?” she nodded toward the makeshift dance floor with a look of nervous anticipation.
“No!” Jacob barked a laugh, and her face fell. “Er… I just mean, I’m not much of a dancer,” he clarified to spare her feelings.
“Oh,” she nodded. “Yeah, me
either,” she dismissed with a shrug.
“So…,” he began, shoving his hands in his pockets and appraising the rest of the crowd. “What exactly are we non-dancers supposed to do at these things?”
“I don’t know,” Callie shrugged again. “Drink. Talk.”
Jacob nodded. Sounds fun.
“What time is it?” he asked.
She laughed. “Am I boring you, already?”
“Oh, no,” he replied quickly, not wanting to hurt her feelings. “I’m sorry. I’m just not really much of a party person.”
“It’s okay,” she smiled. “I’m not either, but Angela has a hard time taking ‘no’ for an answer sometimes.”
Jacob smirked, looking back at her friend. “So, you guys both grew up around here?”
“Mhmm,” Callie nodded, playing with the tips of her hair. “Angela wanted to go somewhere out of state, but Westbridge was my first choice. I didn’t want to be too far from my family, you know?”
He didn’t, but he nodded anyway. He could sense the next instinctive follow-up question on the tip of her tongue, but he didn’t want to have to explain in more depth what it was that drew him to Ohio – or, more accurately, drew him away from New York – so he interjected with the first college-y question that came to mind.
“What’s your major?”
“Nursing,” she answered. “You?”
“Haven’t decided yet,” he said. “But Nursing is pretty interesting. What made you choose that?”
“Nurses are the backbone of the medical field!” she exclaimed. “And I’ve always enjoyed school and working, so I kind of like the long hours. I think it’ll keep me busy, and I like the idea that I’ll always be learning something new.”
