Chapter 14
The next thing I knew, mid-morning light was shining into my eyes. I opened them, then immediately regretted it. The shaft of sunlight streaking in through a gap in the dorm-room curtains nearly blinded me. Then my beer-foggy head bloomed with hangover pain, which was sharp at my temples and diffuse but definitely there everywhere else in my throbbing head.
What had I done to myself?
My alcohol-addled brain tried to replay the events of last night, but the videotape must have been jammed. Sure, I remembered the highlights: Sonya stealing Josh. Alec Keegan wowing me with his good looks and his even more interesting musings on life. And then, all those sexual silhouettes behind the sheet shrouding Sonya’s loft.
I dared open my eyes again.
Through slits in my eyelids, I spied Sonya’s bunk. But unless my clouded mind and my overly sensitive eyes were playing tricks, there was no sheet hanging down to shroud her bunk. There was no mattress on the floor as the setting for Sonya and Josh’s sexual playground. And as I raised my eyes, holding a hand to shield the sunlight, I spied just one lump under the covers atop Sonya’s loft.
It was a small, Sonya-sized lump. But I couldn’t be sure. She had the covers pulled all the way over her head. I could only imagine that if my brain felt like wet cotton, how did Sonya’s feel? She had started doing shots with Josh relatively early last evening. And then she went long into the night.
If college nights were full of possibilities, discoveries and experimentations, college mornings were foggy things that made one second-guess everything from the evening before. I would come to know this as an unassailable law ruling the physical universe at State. But on this first morning after, I was but a novice, not fully aware of these new laws of nature. Or should I say un-nature? Because much of what had occurred last night was unnatural.
What I wondered most was how much of it was real? And how much was my brain and body operating on beer – and the flights of fancy (sexual fancy) it can produce in the mind?
I allowed my eyes to fall shut. I wanted to retreat back into the blissful blackness of deep, dark, dreamless sleep, from which I had just awakened. But it was no good. Another after-effect of beer was pressing on my body. I had a full bladder. Would I dare another morning trip to the co-ed bathroom?
I had no choice.
Luckily, I was still dressed in my outfit from last night. Not that I looked very good as death warmed-over. But at least I needn’t fumble around for clothes. This was yet-another symptom of college nights: Waking up in wrinkled clothes and reeking of bad breath and radiating blood-shot eyes. I had the trifecta, all right.
I pushed myself from the mattress. The change in elevation sent my temples to throbbing. I halted in a sitting position, my feet dangling to the uncarpeted floor. I held steady for a minute, trying to recover, then moved to a standing position. Once again, getting to my feet sent another sharp wave of pain through my sloshy brain. But at least I was upright.
I didn’t even bother with a mirror. I shuffled feet toward the door, slipping on a pair of flip-flops as I went. I just prayed there would be no coed close encounters as I sneaked down the hall to pee.
I paused at the bathroom door, trying to listen. It seemed quiet enough. If I was wrecked, then maybe the entire dorm floor was obliterated and still in bed. I prayed this was the case.
I took a deep breath and pulled open the door. To the right were the shower stalls. To the left was the relief for my badly strained bladder. I entered and looked around. Just as I assumed the coast was clear, a shower curtain swept open with the fanfare of a magician unveiling a magic trick. The sound of the shower curtain rattling open caught my attention. And before I realized it, I was staring at a naked Corey Stills. The short, creepy but well-built wrestler was displaying himself in the now-open shower stall.
And when I say displaying, I mean it.
His penis hung there for the world to see. And the shock of it kept me from turning away. Where I come from – a household with no brothers -- you just aren’t accustomed to seeing a penis first thing in the morning. And this wiry exhibitionist had an exceptionally large one, at that. And it appeared to be swelling larger, poking out half-erect.
Corey caught me looking. And before I could turn away, he cracked a sick sneer, making no move to cover himself. Why would he? He was clearly proud. Hell, he had probably been waiting for one of us female freshmen to come walking in, just so he could fling open the shower curtain and flash his weenie. He was that kind of dude.
Well, mission accomplished. My breath caught in my throat, and my face burned hot with embarrassment. But Corey wasn’t done. He had to rub it in.
“See anything you like?” he teased, still letting it all hang out. In fact, it appeared to grow bigger. Harder. This was turning him on!
I couldn’t believe it.
At least his tawdry taunt snapped me out of my shocked stare. I had no comeback for him. My mind was too numb, my tongue too tied. I simply turned, darted to a stall and barricaded myself inside.
I tried to do my business, but I developed stage fright. And I could hear creepy Corey snickering from the shower stall, as he casually towel-dried his naked body for all the world to see.
But alas, no one else entered. And with my mind occupied, my bladder released. A morning pee never felt so good. I practically sighed in ecstasy, but then Corey would think he had turned me on.
Instead, I took my small pleasure where I found it, then got the hell out of there, my eyes locked on the tile floor in order to escape any further shock shows that morning.
As it was, it was strike two as far as the bathroom was concerned. But I had yet another story to tell. And The Five was not going to believe this one!
Ewwe! Just Ewwe!
Corey Stills’ schlong!
Innocence Page 14
