by Romi Hart
So that was that. I was going out for my first drink. This college life was already vastly different from when I was in Florida. And I felt that tug from the future once more, telling me things would be changing in my life.
But was I really ready for all that?
4
Jett
I showed up a little earlier than I usually do for class. Scanning the classroom, I found something or better yet, someone was missing. Disappointment registered the fact that Laney wasn’t there.
As I took a seat, I noticed my hamstrings were a tinge sore from practice yesterday. I might have overdone it a bit, but after having that lunch with Laney and knowing she was going to the game, I attacked practice with boundless energy. Even Coach told me I was working hard enough and I should ease up a bit. Coach never told anyone that.
I couldn’t help it though. Laney’s smile and her adorable laugh made my heart soar. I promised to score a touchdown for her and fully intended not to let her down.
Looking through my notes from the reading I did last night, I anxiously waited for Laney. Finally, she walked in wearing sunglasses, with her golden hair pulled up into her signature ponytail. She took a seat in the middle of the classroom and slumped down into her chair, looking sick.
I gathered my books and notes and slid into the seat right behind hers. “Hey, Laney. Are you doing okay?”
She turned around to me taking her sunglasses off. She did not look healthy. Dark circles pooled underneath her bloodshot eyes. But even sick, Laney was still gorgeous. It was beyond obvious that she wasn’t feeling well.
I found out her voice was hoarse too as she quietly said, “I went out last night with my dorm mate for a drink.” She grimaced and put a hand to her head. “One drink turned into two and then three. Apparently, I’m a lightweight. I ended up getting wasted.” She paused to drink from the water bottle she clutched in her hand. “I’ve never been drunk before. If these are the after effects, I’m not sure I want to ever be drunk again.”
I was completely surprised and found my mouth had dropped open. “Last night was the first time you have ever gotten drunk?”
She nodded her head, wincing at the pain the movement had caused her. I felt more than sorry for her. All I could think about was how to fix it for her. Since she’d never had a hangover before, she had no idea how to get rid of one.
Poor girl, the first time is always the worst.
I remembered the first time I’d ever gotten drunk. It was freshman year of high school. The next morning, I woke up in my boxers in Ox’s front yard. Ox and I played high school football together and continued to play together at Cal.
He had graciously told all our new teammates this story. I had to put in a lot of hard work drinking and partying to prove to the guys I could hold my liquor. Although it might not be something to brag about, my alcohol tolerance was quite high. When I had something to prove, I never let up.
I felt bad for Laney. I wanted to reach my hand out and pat her head or hug her even, but I knew that would be overstepping her boundaries. So I just watched as she chugged more water.
Ugh, the dehydrated, dry mouth feeling won’t go away for a few more hours no matter how many gallons of water she chugs.
It was awful to see her struggling like that. “I know of a kick ass hangover cure,” I kept my voice down so as not to make her head hurt any more than it already did. I imagined she wasn’t keen on letting our fellow classmates know she was hungover on a Tuesday morning either.
She uncovered her eyes and looked at me. “Seriously?” Hope filled her expression and I hoped what I did would help the poor girl.
With a confidant nod and a knowing grin, I tried to further inspire the hope she had. “Yup. It works every time. I can hook you up after class. It’s at my apartment.”
Suspicion clouded her hopeful expression. “Your apartment?”
Leaning back, I stretched out my legs and crossed my arms trying to look casual. It was obvious she was feeling apprehensive about being alone with me in my apartment. I wanted to make her feel at ease. I had no intentions of making a move on her after all. I only wanted to help ease her pain. “The football team lives in an apartment complex a little ways off campus. The school likes to house us together. You know, to keep us out of trouble or something.”
She nodded, thinking it over. “I don’t know…”
It sounded sleazy, but I really was just trying to help her feel better, so I added, “I promise that I’m not feeding you a line just to get you to come back to my place. I order this stuff called Morning Recovery. An engineer that used to work for Tesla developed it. It’s made out of Hovenia Dulcis.”
Her eyes sprung open. “The Japanese Raisin Tree?”
I was pretty surprised she knew about that stuff. “Ya. You heard of it?”
Amazing, how does this girl know that off the top of her head?
“Yes. It’s been used for centuries to treat fever, parasitic infection…” Her eyes opened in realization. “And liver diseases.”
“It works like a charm.” I leaned forward, getting closer to her and giving her a smile as I just couldn’t help myself. The girl was at the very least a double threat, smart and beautiful. “This ex-Tesla dude put it together with milk thistle, taurine, and prickly pear extract. It works for me every time. I just ordered a case last week.”
Her eyes narrowed, her lips formed a straight line as she seemed to be scrutinizing me. “How often do you need it for hangovers?”
I gulped and looked away as she made me feel a bit guilty for all my partying. “Maybe more than I should… But, I also use it just for an energy boost.” I didn’t want Laney to get the wrong idea about me. I partied, but so did everyone else on the team. “It works. It will definitely get rid of your hangover.”
She pressed her dainty fingers to her temples. “Thanks, but I can go get some myself.”
Is she really that damn scared of being alone with me that she’d stay in pain rather than come to my apartment?
Leaning back once more to give her ample space, I shoved my hands in my pockets and shook my head. “You have to order it from the website. It won’t be any trouble to get you a bottle from my stash. I can even just drop it off at your place. No one should suffer through a hangover.”
Before I found the magical elixir, I suffered one too many horrible mornings from a long night out. I felt I had to help her out.
Finally, she smiled and even nodded slightly. “Okay, that would be great. I appreciate it. Thanks for helping me out.” There was that smile of hers again. Even hungover, her smile was bright and radiant.
Chuckling, I added, “This will be my one humanitarian deed for the year. I was going to build houses for the homeless or help young at-risk kids learn to read, but I would rather help a fellow student get over a hangover instead.”
“Only one humanitarian deed a year. Just one?” She laughed.
Yes! I got her laughing at my jokes again.
I nodded. “Only one.”
We shared a laugh together. It was a nice moment until Troy walked in and sat next to Laney. He looked over his shoulder at me with a spiteful glare. I wanted to slap that look right off his smug face.
“What are you guys laughing about over here?” he asked, intruding into our conversation. Laney spun her head around to face him. Troy immediately burst out into a foul laugh. “Omigod! How much did you have to drink last night!” he chortled loudly, drawing attention to us.
Laney slunk down into her seat and covered her eyes with her hand, looking mortified.
Brick House is a genuine asshole.
I leaned down to look Troy in the face. “Hey, keep it down. You can clearly see she isn’t feeling well.”
Troy put his arms up defensively. “Sorry! Relax!” He paused and saw Laney shrink away from him. She pulled out her notes and busied herself with reading them. He added desperately, “Laney, sorry. I have something in my truck that can help. I can get it for you after cl
ass.” Laney continued to look over her notes, refusing to look at him. He added, “Maybe after, we can study together.” Laney opened one of her books; still not answering him. “Or lunch! We could get lunch.”
Laney stopped flipping through the pages to take a moment to look at him. “Troy, thanks for your concern, but I’m going to be taking something that will help very soon.”
“Can’t be as good as my stuff,” Troy persisted.
“It’s DHC from Hovenia Dulcis. It’s a liver remedy used for centuries in Japan, China, and Korea,” Laney answered coolly.
“Okay. I guess it must be good stuff. I was actually just going to give you orange Gatorade,” Troy said quietly.
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness. Gatorade was developed at the University of Florida in 1965 to replenish electrolytes,” she paused, and I sighed at how damn smart she was, even in the midst of a raging hangover. “But in my case, today, I’m going to need something with a little more kick to it than just that. Thank you, though.”
Troy sat back in his seat, looking straight ahead with defeat written all over his face. “Sure. No problem.” He rifled through his backpack and clunked his notebook onto his desk.
Professor Williamson walked into class. “I trust everyone did their reading?” he said as put his briefcase down on the desk.
I leaned back happily. Laney’s response to Troy was perfect. She definitely had no interest in him. What bothered me was Troy’s persistence.
Doesn’t he know when a girl just isn’t into him? Does he know and just not care?
Professor Williamson asked the class, “Can someone please clarify the Prisoner’s Dilemma for the class?”
Laney’s hand shot up.
Wow, that hungover and she’s still prepared for class.
“It’s when individuals or corporations pursue their own self-interest; the outcome is worse than if they both cooperated,” Laney stated smartly.
Professor Williamson pressed further. "Can you give us a real-world example?"
“Sure. Let’s take steroid use as an example.” I noticed Troy’s shoulders droop as Laney began to talk.
Wonder why that is?
The professor tapped his chin as he looked at Laney. “Steroids, huh? Okay, go with that, Miss Dupree.”
So Laney forged ahead, "Let's say that steroids have an approximately equal effect on each athlete. If they all take them, then the performance-enhancing effects cancel out. So really, it is to all of the athletes' advantage to not take them because of the horrible side effects."
“What happens if only one athlete takes them?” Professor Williamson asked.
Laney continued, “If only one athlete takes steroids, then he or she will have an advantage over the others. But that’s only if no one else takes steroids. What would likely happen is that the other athletes would be incentivized to take steroids too to level the playing field, so to speak. Then what happens is: all the athletes suffer and are worse off than when no one took the drugs simply because of the nasty side effects.”
Troy looked uncomfortable and fidgeted while Laney explained her example to Professor Williamson.
Did Laney know about Troy’s steroid rumors and choose that example to get to him? If so, brilliant! If not, what a wonderful coincidence.
“That’s a perfect example, Laney. Thank you,” Professor Williamson said, pleased with her example.
I wanted to laugh at Troy's missteps with Laney, but he needed to learn how to back off and back down. I wasn't confident that Laney was totally into me, but I knew that she definitely had little to no interest in Brick House. If Troy paid attention in our Competitive Strategy class, he would have known to step aside. It was really in everyone's best interest.
5
Laney
I made it through Professor Williamson’s class trying my best to act like my organs weren’t shutting down one by one. My head pounded while my stomach churned in tumultuous waves of nausea. I was glad I studied before heading out with Marsha the night before.
I felt awful, but I was thankfully prepared for class. I forced myself to participate in the class discussion, which was a twenty-five percent chunk of my grade. I wasn’t about to let a hangover get in the way of my chances for perfect grades.
Jett was kind to offer me one of his bottles of Morning Recovery. It must not have been cheap if it was something you had to specially order online and a Tesla engineer developed it. I felt incredibly sick and couldn’t take a single minute more of the dreadful feeling.
How would I get any worthwhile studying done that night feeling so miserable? I’d be crazy to turn down Hovenia Dulcis.
My mom, the biologist, swore by holistic medicine using natural remedies. At home, we primarily used Japanese Raisin Tree as a light laxative, but there was no way I was going to say that to Jett. My mom had told me that it can be used for other maladies like liver disease. I just never thought people were using it for hangovers. I guess because I’d never been hungover before.
When class was over, Jett and I walked out of the classroom together. I noticed Troy staring at us as we left.
That guy has a serious staring problem.
A researcher at Emory University claimed there are five levels of self-awareness developmental stages. I wondered what happened in Troy’s life to make him lack a firm grip on self-awareness. Not to mention the fact, that he was terribly rude to draw attention to my hangover in class.
I followed Jett out of the courtyard. We waited for the campus shuttle to go by before we crossed Piedmont Avenue towards Memorial Stadium. From the outside, the stadium was a beautiful neoclassical structure with large pedimented arches.
It was in stark contrast to University of Florida’s Griffin Stadium, a monstrous contemporary building complex. I had never been inside any stadium before, but I was surprised to find myself looking forward to sitting in Memorial Stadium this weekend for the UCLA game.
“Are we going to your car?” I asked as we approached the stadium. There wasn’t a student parking lot that I could see nearby.
Jett confessed, “I park over here. I have a special F parking permit.”
I was surprised by the parking permit. “Isn’t that just for faculty?”
“It is, but I’m on the football team and the quarterback, so the school let me have one.” Jett jingled his keys out of his backpack. A brand new black Mercedes Benz beeped to life.
I was in shock. “This is your car?”
“Do you like it?” he asked. “I got as a gift. I was worried that it looked too flashy, you know?”
I stopped to admire the car. “It’s a beautiful ride,” I remarked. It really was: nice smooth edges and lines. Curious, I asked, “A gift? From who?”
Jett shrugged. “A Cal Alumni gifted it to me for winning the bowl game last season.”
If I would have known sports could afford me different perks in college, maybe I would’ve have picked up golf or something. I doubted golf players got the kind of extra advantages football players did though.
As I walked around the car admiring its sleek curves, I saw Troy running across Piedmont screaming, “Hey! Hey! Laney! Wait up!” Troy ran up to us looking irritated. “What are you guys doing?”
It was an awkward moment.
Why does Troy think he needs to know what we’re doing?
As soon as I think he has reached the pinnacle of boorishness, Brick House surprises me and goes beyond that.
My mom always told me to never be rude to someone even if they have been rude to you. It’s from her upbringing in Southern hospitality. It only enforces their impolite behavior. I took a deep breath and replied, “I’m going to Jett’s to grab the drink made with Japanese Raisin Tree. You know, the DHC from Hovenia Dulcis?” Troy looked at me with a completely blank face, so I added, “The hangover remedy I was telling you about earlier?”
“Hangover remedy? Laney, I told you that I had something for you in my truck.” His voice had a hard edge to it. An edge I d
id not appreciate one tiny bit.
Crossing my arms while tapping my foot, I sternly said, “I know, but I told you that I was going to get DHC...”
Troy cut me off. “From this guy? I didn’t know he was the one who was giving you that stuff.” He pointed his finger in a sharp jabbing motion at Jett. I watched as Troy twirled around with his arms raised in indignation. “I can’t believe this!”
Jett interjected, “Hey! Brick House calm down.”
Troy shot him a furious look. “Shut up! Stay out of this.”
I could see Troy was upset and tried to calm things down before the two jocks got out of hand. “Troy, I’m not sure what you’re so upset about.”
He laughed derisively. “I’m upset because I think you’re crazy to go over to Romeo’s apartment.” He jabbed a finger again in Jett’s direction and said, “He’s only after one thing. He’s going to get you there and sleep with you. That’s all he wants. He’ll never talk to you again after he gets what he wants from you. Can’t you see that?” Troy was screaming down at me. I backed away from him, shielding myself from his fury.
Jett stepped in between us and pushed Troy back. “Step off, Brick House. Stop yelling at her.”
Troy’s body flew back into a nearby Volvo, most likely a professor’s car, setting off the alarms. Troy recovered and charged full force into Jett. Their bodies crunched into Jett’s car door that only moments before I was admiring for its smooth shape.
I’d had enough of both of them. “Stop it! Stop it!”
By that time, a group of students had gathered to watch Jett and Troy fight each other. I looked at the crowd, feeling embarrassed at being a spectacle. I took off in a run towards Clark Kerr.
“Laney!” I heard Jett call after me, but I kept running.
My adrenaline and humiliation must have overridden my nausea. I ran all the way back to my dorm room. Marsha was thankfully not there. I wanted to have time to think about what happened on my own. I already knew what she would say.
