by Claire Adams
One of the frat members came up to me and asked me to dance with him, and I looked at my friends; they were all having a good time, so I decided to have a good time too. I let him lead me over to the makeshift dance floor in the living room, but I kept his hands from wandering too much. It wasn’t that I was a prude so much as it was that I was already pretty hot and sweaty, and the guy was obviously interested in getting me alone; I didn’t really have that in mind for the night—I just wanted to have a little bit of fun with my friends. But I went from him to another guy who wanted to dance, and I had a second drink when I finished my first; after all, I was going to be walking home. I didn’t want to get plastered, but I also didn’t want to look like I was trying to ruin anyone else’s good time.
I was having a great time; the only thing that bummed me out a little bit—even though I knew it shouldn’t—was that I didn’t catch sight of Devon at all, even though I looked around for him more than a little. I figured he must have gone upstairs with some girl, or he might have been hanging out in the back yard around the pool, and put the thought aside. I told myself I could have a perfectly good time without having to meet Devon Sealy; even if he was a star in my favorite sport, it wasn’t like he was the end-all-be-all of existence.
Chapter Two
For the first hour or two of the party, I was having a great time. But as the party continued on and on, I started to get more and more tired. The Red Bull started to lose its effects on me, and I was even more exhausted than I had been even before we left. “Drink another Red Bull!” Kelly suggested, putting one in my hand. I drank it, but it left me feeling jittery instead of putting a stop to my fatigue.
I started to wander around the frat house, even though my feet were hurting. I told myself that I could people-watch even if I didn’t feel much like interacting. My friends were getting steadily drunker, and I watched as Giselle practically humped one of the Phi Kappa boys in the middle of the living room; she wasn’t the only one, either. None of my friends showed the least sign of wanting to call it a night, so I didn’t really have much of a choice. I knew that if I left without them I’d never hear the end of it, and besides, the idea of walking across the dark campus all by myself was less than appealing.
I tried wandering around, seeing if I could spot any of the campus celebrities; I saw the student body president doing shots of Jaegermeister, which amused me for a little while, since it was totally different from the guy’s public persona: a guy who did volunteer work and studied at all hours in the library. I saw some of the other members of the basketball team, but not Devon; I managed to strike up a conversation with one of the guys, talking about the recent game. He seemed surprised that I knew anything about basketball and asked me if I played.
“No, I’ve never been all that great with hand-eye coordination,” I said, laughing. “But my dad loved the game, so he taught me how to appreciate it.”
“Your dad raised you right then!” We started trading team stats and talking about our favorite players, and for a while I was able actually to enjoy myself. Then one of the girls at the party, totally drunk and more out of her dress than in it, wandered up and asked the guy to take a shot with her, and he gave me a quick, wry glance before following her out into the living room.
I hung out by the pool for a while, drinking one of the bottles of water that had been stashed in coolers—I could say for the Phi Kappa guys that at least they had something to drink that wasn’t alcohol. I was starting to get annoyed by the fact that it was getting later and later, and my friends showed no signs of being interested in heading back to the dorms. For a while, it was nice by the pool; it was cooler than inside the packed frat house, and it was hilarious to watch people being thrown into the pool. I stayed out of the line of fire; I had no interest at all in being one of the people tossed in. I finished my water and realized I had to pee. Since unlike the guys I couldn’t just turn my back on the party and pee in the bushes, I had to go back inside with the pounding bass and the sweaty people.
On my way into the house and towards one of the bathrooms, I ran into Alicia; she was making out on the dance floor with one of the guys from the hockey team, and didn’t even notice me. Giselle had moved on to a new conquest, and Kelly was nowhere to be seen. I was starting to get annoyed with my friends, but I hurried to the bathroom and told myself that I’d regroup with them once I was out. Surely someone in the group wasn’t busy plastering herself on some guy.
I checked the time on my phone while I waited for the line for the bathroom to move forward and give me my opportunity. I knew that the bathroom would probably be horrifying; I had seen more than a few people passed out. But I didn’t have much choice in the matter. It was already past midnight—I had been at the party for three hours, and my feet were starting to hurt from walking around and dancing so much. I was losing my buzz and starting to get a headache.
By the time I had used the bathroom quickly, not looking around me very much at all and barely washing my hands, there was no sign of my friends. I had no idea where they’d gotten to. One of the guys—inexplicably still upright, in spite of obviously being drunk—offered me another cup of punch, and I decided I might as well. I gulped it down, thinking longingly of the TV shows I had missed. It would have been okay if we’d all managed to stick together, but I had no idea where any of my friends had gone.
Alicia found me finally, reeling and stumbling from being drunk. “Isn’t this the best party ever?” she asked me in a near shriek. I smiled, trying to ignore the searing, throbbing pain in my head from the loud music and cheap alcohol. “Come on, Jenn, let’s do a shot.”
She led me into the kitchen, and I saw that the other girls were in there, all of them chatting up guys, dancing. Kelly’s top was nearly off while she shimmied up against a guy I was sure she didn’t know, but I told myself it wasn’t my business. I knocked back a shot of what someone told me was Jack but I thought tasted more like the cheapest possible whiskey and chased it with long gulps of store-brand cola, and I tried to get back into the swing of the party. I already knew it was hopeless.
Eventually, I was so annoyed with my friends and so tired of the whole party that I wandered away; the music was finally starting to die down a bit—I thought I saw one of the members of the frat talking to the campus police, which would have explained it. It was already one in the morning, but there were plenty of people still going at it, dancing like crazy and making out. I wandered around until I found a loveseat that no one was using; I checked to make sure it wasn’t soaking wet or covered in puke before I sat down—miraculously it seemed actually to be relatively clean. I doubt it would pass a black light inspection, but at least it’s something. My feet were killing me, and when I sat down I finally started to feel relief.
My head was throbbing. I’d let Kelly and the others talk me into two more shots before I grabbed a bottle of water, knowing that if I had anything more to drink I’d be absolutely drunk—and I’d probably throw up, just from how cheap the booze was. “You’re never going to get a tolerance like that!” Giselle had told me, trying to convince me to take another shot, or at least have a beer. I laughed and said that if I didn’t have a tolerance, I’d always be a cheap date—at least I’d have that going for me.
I watched the people starting to leave; they were mostly heading for the front door, but more than a few went up to the bedrooms, and I had a good idea of just what they were about to do. The girls were nowhere in sight, but I thought they’d probably find some guy or another to go back with, leaving me alone—at the rate they were going, they might end up passed out on the floor instead in a few hours. My head was still throbbing, but the water seemed to be helping a little. I was more irritated by the fact that I’d obviously wanted to go home…but no one was ready to walk with me. I didn’t want to have to wait for my friends, but I also didn’t want to have to risk walking alone, or not knowing whether they would be okay.
I was lost in my own thoughts, getting more and more i
rritated, when I saw someone approach the loveseat in the corner of my eye. The seat shifted underneath me, and I realized that someone—in my blurry peripheral vision it looked like a guy—had sat down without even asking if I was okay with it. My irritation flared up, and I turned to give him a piece of my mind.
But the moment I turned to face the intruder, I realized who it was. I took in the sight of the guy’s hair: curly on top, buzzed close to the skull underneath. He wasn’t facing me, but I could make out his profile, and the general shape of his body. To my surprise, he wasn’t even wearing a toga—which seemed strange for the living legend of the fraternity: Devon Sealy himself—sitting next to me. My irritation evaporated immediately. I’d been trying to spot him all night, hoping I might at least be able to say hello or compliment him on his playing—something, anything. And there he was.
Devon turned and gave me a little grin. “Hey, sorry if I invaded your space,” he said, shifting to the side slightly.
“Oh, it’s okay,” I said, smiling a little. I could feel my cheeks heating up and I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or my own embarrassment. “I was just kind of…done with partying, and needed to sit down for a bit.” I showed him my shoes and he laughed.
“Yeah, those look like they’d make you tired of partying pretty fast.” He extended his hand to me. “I’m Devon.”
“Jennifer—Jenn,” I said, shaking his hand. I couldn’t believe my luck.
“I’m kind of done for the night, too,” Devon told me, his touch lingering on my skin for just a moment before he let his hand fall away. “I can’t just disappear—I’d lose my cred—but I’m kind of over everyone wanting to tell me how great I am.” I giggled.
“Well, I’m sorry to do this to you then,” I said, unable to help myself. “But I think you’re awesome. I’ve seen you play; you could give LeBron a run for his money.” Devon laughed.
“Now are you saying that because you know basketball and really think I’m that good, or because LeBron is the only name you know?” I shook my head.
“My dad brought me up on basketball. I’ve been rooting for his team—the Celtics—since I was about five.”
“Okay then, who do you like on the Celtics?”
“Quizzing me? Really? Okay.” I licked my lips. “I have to be all about Isaiah Thomas, I mean he’s a great point guard and he’s done great in assists. But my personal favorite player is Jae Crowder. “
“You know your stuff!” Devon seemed really pleased; within moments, we were talking about the game, ragging each other about our favorite teams. We started talking about the season and Devon’s stats so far, and I was on cloud nine. I barely even noticed at first as he moved a little closer to me on the loveseat, but when I did I was far from upset about it. Devon’s choice to come and sit down with a stranger—me—had turned the party from a major annoyance to a prime opportunity, and I was not going to waste the chance to talk to the big man himself.
Devon quizzed me some more, really testing my knowledge; we talking about our favorite players, discussed dream teams made up of both current players and the best players in history. Devon asked me if I was into any other sports, and I admitted that while I’d gone to a few football games in high school, I’d never really been into any other sports. “You should totally come by to watch the games here,” Devon suggested.
“Really? A bunch of sweaty guys drinking beers and screaming at the TV?” Devon laughed.
“It’s not that bad. And anyway, I think a couple of the guys are Celtics fans; you wouldn’t be alone.”
“I could just go to the Celtics bar in town and not be alone,” I countered. Devon laughed again.
“But you just said you didn’t want to be surrounded by sweaty guys drinking beers and screaming at the TV.”
“That is true. I’ll probably just stick to making my roommate have a heart attack by watching the game in our dorm and screaming at the TV myself.”
After a while, we started talking about the party itself. I thought we must have been the only two people in the entire house who were even close to being sober. “Look at him, look at him,” Devon said to me, his voice low, pointing out one of the guys—not one of his frat brothers—who was obviously striking out with a woman.
“Not as bad as her,” I said, directing his attention to one of the girls, who was dancing in her sexiest movements for a guy who was basically passed out on a couch.
“I bet you anything they still end up in the same bed at the end of the night.” I giggled, imagining both of them passed out, half-dressed and with no idea of where they were.
As we talked more and more, I couldn’t help but notice how hot Devon was. I knew he was gorgeous, and I’d seen him before—it wasn’t like he was a complete and total stranger—but up close, especially with the lingering alcohol in my system, he was even better. What put it over the edge was that he was talking to me and me alone; Devon didn’t even seem interested in finding another girl to talk to, even though I saw more than a few girls hesitating near the loveseat while we chatted, trying to get his attention without being obvious about it.
“Hey,” Devon said, as we started to trail off. “Do you want something to drink? I just realized I’m thirsty.” He grinned at me.
“Sure,” I said. “My buzz is starting to wear off anyway.”
“Can’t have that! Not at a Phi Kappa party, anyway.” Devon lifted a hand in the air and waved it around, and one of his brothers staggered up to the loveseat. “Is there any more of the punch left or is it trashed already?”
“Jeremy made some a little while ago. I think there’s still some left.”
“Grab me a beer and get a cup of punch for this pretty thing here,” Devon said. I laughed as the frat brother staggered off quickly to obey.
“You run this place, don’t you?” Devon laughed, shrugging.
“I’m senior to him. It’s part of his job as a new member of the frat to listen to me.” A few minutes later, the same brother, his toga falling down around his waist, brought our drinks, and Devon thanked him, pointing out the dancing drunk girl and suggesting that with the other guy passed out, he could probably distract her.
Our conversation turned into flirting, and I felt myself warming up from the inside out. The second batch of punch tasted better than the first, though I still knew better than to ask what was in it while I teased Devon about his status in the frat, and he teased me about my “schoolgirl look.”
“Yeah, well, not all of us are badasses like you,” I countered. “How many tattoos do you even have?” Devon chuckled and took off his shirt, showing them off for me. The more we talked, the more into him I got; I let him pull me closer to him while we sipped our drinks, and when his hands started to wander, I didn’t stop him. I knew—without having to think about it—that if Devon suggested we go somewhere private, I’d be more than happy to go with him. In spite of the fact that I’d always sort of planned to lose my virginity to someone I was in a long-term relationship with, I had been thinking ever since college that it didn’t really matter that much; as long as it was with someone who was good in bed, why should I hesitate? I hoped that Devon would make a move.
Chapter Three
The party was beginning to wind down more and more, and I was starting to get tired again; not in the irritated way I’d been before, but since it was after two in the morning, I was ready to either go back to the dorms or otherwise curl up somewhere. I had started to lose hope that Devon was interested in me beyond just having someone to talk to; it was still nice to talk to him, and I was having a great time, but I was a little bummed that he wasn’t into me.
I found out how wrong I was, though; just when I was about to say I was going to go ahead and head back to the dorms, Devon leaned in close, brushing his lips against mine. For a moment I was too startled to react, but after just a few heartbeats, as Devon began to deepen the kiss, I found myself kissing him back, reaching out to wrap my arms around his shoulders. Devon’s tongue slid pa
st my lips, and his hands started to roam over my body slowly, touching me everywhere. I moaned against his mouth, arching into his touches, getting hotter and hotter, more and more turned on.
Devon nibbled on my bottom lip, pulling back from the kiss for just a moment before plunging back in. I was barely even aware of the fact that we were still in a public place—I was too turned on to care. I pressed up against Devon; I could already feel my pussy starting to get wet, my body heating up as Devon’s hands trailed over me, cupping my breasts through the fabric of my clothes and moving down to my hips. “Let’s get out of here,” he suggested, breaking away from my lips just barely. “Let’s go up to my room.” He pulled back, meeting my gaze. For a second I couldn’t even understand what he’d said—my mind was foggy with alcohol and desire. But then I nodded as his words filtered through my brain.
“Yeah,” I said, smiling slightly, breathless, “Sure. Lead the way.”
Devon stood up, grabbing my hand and pulling me gently to my feet. He grinned at me as he led me to the stairs; everyone else in the room—the few people still partying—was completely oblivious, or maybe they didn’t care. My heart started beating faster in my chest as we went up the stairs; I wondered if I should tell Devon that I was a virgin, that I’d never had sex before. I’d fooled around with guys before—but I’d never “gone all the way.”
I followed Devon down the hallway, my heart beating but my body still tingling with desire. “Devon,” I said, breathless with desire coursing through me. “I—I have to tell you something.” Devon paused, his hand reaching out to one of the doorknobs.
