Double Grades

by Kristine Robinson

  It took me twenty minutes to figure out why!

  “I’m sorry, this is all new to me,” I said sheepishly, hoping that this would give some sort of indication that I wasn’t that un-socialized so as not to realize that I had offended someone.

  “So you’re not a snob? Thank god! I thought your folks were rich or something and you thought you were too good to have a simple conversation with me… But now that that’s out of the way, we have got to get ready for tonight…” she said, pulling her many bags apart.

  “What’s happening tonight?” I asked, checking my information pack again.

  “The Fresher Mixer, silly. Now we have got to get you out of those pigtails,” she said, freeing my hair as she spoke. Then she held my face in her hands and looked at it for a long time.

  “What is it?” I asked, concerned.

  “Oh, nothing. You’re a blank canvas. I can work with a blank canvas,” she said, pulling me to her suddenly and kissing my full on my mouth. The kiss lingered, and I was suddenly warm, my face flushed. I couldn’t move.

  She pulled away from me and went to get her makeup bag. The confusion on my face must have been visible, because Sammy just smiled at me and said, “Don’t worry, we’re going to be the best of roommates…”

  Chapter Two

  Sam applied makeup to my face and then used wet-wipes to remove the traces of her handy work. Then she tried again, again removing the paint from my face in long downward strokes. Then she must have got it just right, because she moved away from my face, and smiled.

  “There we go. I think I’ve discovered your colors,” she said lifting me off the chair without allowing me to look at myself in the mirror. We needed to shower first before she proceeded with her final efforts on my face. I knew it wouldn’t take longer the second time around, because she had sort of got the hang on my face.

  As soon as we got out of the shower and had moisturized sufficiently Sam pulled two dresses from her bag that didn’t need ironing. She chose a light blue summer dress for herself, which was perfect for her because the color seemed to suit her perfectly. I was stuck with the olive green number, as short, which made me very uncomfortable. But she insisted, and I wore it, noticing though that her eyes were on my long before the dress slipped over my tiny frame.

  There was something going on here, something that I didn’t understand. She seemed not only to be interested in me, but intrigued, and I really didn’t know why. She looked very good in her dress, but I was certainly not giving her as much attention as she was giving me.

  “I don’t really like parties,” I said to her suddenly, and she squinted.

  “Look, you owe me. Let’s go, just for one drink, and then you can leave if you want. Me, I’m planning to turn up before the year starts. This is the one time that think that we can really just let our hair down…” she said, looking at me like she was a little disappointed. I knew then that I was going to have to stay there and leave with her. My only consolation was that most of the people in attendance would be freshers as well, so we would all really be in the same boat.

  She held up a mirror to my face when she was done with my makeup and I had to look twice. I didn’t even recognize myself. There were three colors layering my eyes, various shades of green, and my cheeks were bronzed, the subtlest hints of gold. The boldness of my lips shocked me the most. A dark brown, almost black, framed too perfectly with brown eyeliner. Sam really should have chosen to work in Hollywood as a makeup artist, I thought. Or perhaps New York Fashion Week.

  After a few liberal strokes on her own face, much less than my own, she was ready to leave. I couldn’t help but feel like she thought my face needed a lot more work than hers. I wasn’t sure if this was true though, my freshness being something I had always considered to be my redeeming quality.

  She stood me up and examined me in much the same way a doctor would, or maybe the buyer at an exclusive brothel, not that I had any frame of reference for the latter. I felt exposed and extremely vulnerable in that moment, and I just wanted to get out of the room. I still could not make sense of what was happening with Sam. I knew that I was not into women. I knew that there was nothing about me that gave even the slightest hint of this interest. But the way Sam looked at me made me doubt myself. And this doubt made me feel more than a little uncomfortable.

  “Shall we go?” she asked, finally. I was grateful, and walked out of the room first. I figured that if we were in a crowd then the stares I was getting from Sam would disappear somewhat. This was not something that I wanted to address, not so soon into the first year of varsity. But if the need arose, than I would have to say something.

  As we walked the few lanes to the party venue the campus was abuzz. There seemed to be a lot of first year students all over the place, so much so that I actually thought that today was just for us new comers. Being the new kid on the block suddenly didn’t feel too bad, even though my dress was riding so far up my thighs that I was getting more and more self-conscious as we approached the frat house.

  “Are you ready?” Sam asked, when we stood outside.

  “Not really,” I said, looking at the many people on the front lawn, all drinking, some of them already huddled in couples.

  My head was really spinning, because I had never been to a party like this, the biggest event I had attended up until now being my prom. The prom was very ordered though, very structured, and so very, very predictable. I knew somehow that predictable was the last thing that this particular event was going to be.

  “Let’s go… You’ll be fine… Besides, I’m here,” Sam said, and she led me up the stairs through the large double doors that opened onto what I can only describe as a hectic state of affairs.

  My discomfort morphed quickly into anxiety, and when Sam pushed a glass of beer into my hands, this anxiety became fear. I had never tasted alcohol before. I was still too young to drink. I was sure that most of the other people at the party were too young to drink, but this didn’t seem to bother them, not in the least.

  I held the cup tightly, but I had absolutely no intention to drink it. The one thing I had was my principles, and I intended to hold on to them for as long as I possibly could.

  Chapter Three

  “Yellow,” a voice said behind me. Sam was suddenly gone, and I was looking around wildly, needing her now.

  “Hi,” I said, looking behind me for the first time.

  “So, you’re new here,” he asked, more a statement though, then a question.

  “Obviously,” I said, and I looked into my glass, no intention to drink it, but needing the safety of the glass. It was really a cushion for me, and I wished that it wasn’t alcohol in the glass. It was, though, and so I just had to stare at it.

  “You’re a feisty one aren’t you?” he asked, and he sipped his glass. I knew that it was alcohol, and I knew that he was drinking. I wasn’t sure how old he was, so I figured that I would not judge him, just yet.

  “Not really. I’ve just got a low tolerance for stupidity,” I responded before I could stop myself. Why was I being so aggressive, I wondered?

  “Let’s go somewhere private to discuss my stupidity,” he said, and I was suddenly confused. Varsity men were very aggressive.

  “I’m Katia,” I said, trying to slow him down a little bit.

  “Brett,” he said, extending his hand and coming out in front of me at the same time. I took his hand, and really wanted to drop the glass in my hand. It was irritating me somewhat, and I just wanted it gone. Brett was actually very, very attractive, and I wanted to focus on him completely. I didn’t want him want him. He was just a welcome distraction from the absence of Sam.

  He took my arm and led me towards the stairs. I didn’t even resist him, knowing that I was not going to let things go any further than I wanted to. There were parts of me as yet untouched by man, and I did not intend for these parts to be touched tonight. I thought of my faux boyfriend back home, now attending a varsity on the other side of the country. H
is voice would be a comfort to me now. But I knew that Greg was probably involved in his own welcome affair at his own university.

  He pushed me into a room, and it was empty. We were obviously among the first to have this idea. Brett was actually the one with the idea, and I was just going with it. I pulled away from him as soon as we were in the room, especially when he tried to kiss me.

  “Stupidity,” I said, wanting to bring him back to the conversation that he had suggested when we were down stairs.

  “Stupidity,” he said, and again he tried to kiss me. I was having none of it though, and I walked over to the window. There was a hive of activity in the backyard, another welcome distraction for this distraction.

  “I think that this isn’t going to end the way you anticipate,” I said at last. It was obvious what he wanted, and I wasn’t down for it. I needed to get out of here now, and go and find Sam. He held me hard and found my lips. Admittedly, I kissed him back, for just a little while. Then I pulled away, and left him alone in the room. He would just have to deal with his problem by himself.

  I bumped into Sam in the corridor. She pulled me and walked me down the corridor a little further. She tried to go into a room, but I pulled away. What was going on here, I wondered. Varsity students were really the horniest bunch of individuals I had ever come across.

  “You know, Westwick wasn’t my first choice,” she said as we walked down the stairs.

  “Really?” I said, wanting her to continue this line of conversation that seemed to have nothing to do with getting underneath my dress. There was really way too much going on around me, and I needed some space.

  “Nope, but my parents insisted that I get an education. My high-school career wasn’t exactly exemplary, and so I just had to choose the first institution that would put up with my mess,” she said, and she seemed to drink from her glass.

  No judgement, I told myself, again, for the millionth time.

  “Excuse me,” she said suddenly, and she walked towards a group of girls in the corner. I thought I knew what was going on here, but still I tried not to think on it too much. I started to look for a bathroom, needing to breathe without wanting to look like I was being a party pooper.

  I saw a door that seemed to have a lot of traffic. There were too many people there for me to make a beeline for this door, but I really needed an escape. I looked for the front door, and found this one also a little too occupied. Jesus, there had to be another bathroom in this house. Surely they weren’t limited to just this one, because that would make absolutely no sense.

  I walked around the ground floor slowly, trying to spot another bathroom. When I thought that I did, I started to walk towards it, hoping beyond hope that nobody else was having the same idea. The closer I came to this door, the more other people seemed to have the same thoughts suddenly, and I paused. I really was not the type of girl to go into the bathroom in a group.

  Three girls walked into the room as I approached, and I waited outside. Nobody else was hanging around outside, and apart from the eyes that kept finding me, there really was no attention on me, per se. I waited the ten minutes that it took for the three girls to come out, and then, at last, I made my way inside the compact space.

  Chapter Four

  In the bathroom I looked at myself in the mirror. There were traces of me, but only traces. I really wanted to wash my face, but I thought that this might not be the best idea, and might leave me looking like a raccoon, or a weeping clown. There was nothing to it, I would just have to ride out this wave.

  “Katia,” came voice on the other side of the door. The door opened suddenly, and I was glad that I wasn’t in a compromising position. I knew who it was, though, and when Sam was suddenly inside the bathroom, drinking the contents of her glass, again I was nervous.

  Everyone seemed to drink so easily!

  Not me though. I wasn’t about to do anything that would compromise my faculties. I had to keep my head, especially now. It was too early in the year, too early in my varsity life for me to start doing stupid things. I was open to being stupid. But not yet. Not just yet.

  “Everything okay?” Sam continued, coming up close behind me. She looked at my face and placed her hand delicately under my chin. It seemed as though Sam was still admiring her handy work.

  And she had done a great job on my face. She had done a great job with my outfit too. It was all just too much too soon, and I really needed to be eased into things. There was to be no easing though, it seemed.

  “Yes, everything is fine,” I lied, knowing that she would see right through this lie. I didn’t care, not at all. My honesty, like my face, had always been the one thing I could depend on. These two things were like my compass, always able to bring me back to the basic truth, to my basic truth!

  “Then why are you hiding in the bathroom?” she asked, and I didn’t have an answer. I knew that it had nothing to do with Brett. There would be many Bretts this year, I knew. And I might even give in to one of them, maybe a few even. What was on my mind was that lingering kiss that Sam gave me before we left our dorm room. Surely there was nothing to this kiss? Surely it was just the way she was brought up, a by-product of her big city roots?

  “I’m not hiding. Just needed to pee,” I said, another lie. She looked at my cup of beer, noticed that it was still full. There was no need for her to confront me on this lie because it was just so obvious.

  “Okay,” she said, brushing up closer to me. I was suddenly flushed, unable to breathe. What was going on with me? What the hell was going on with Sam?

  She started to kiss my shoulders and I froze. This must be the alcohol. There was no way a sober Sam would be doing the things that she was doing. Or maybe there was. Maybe she was lesbian. But nothing about her even suggested this. And I was sure that nothing about me suggested that I was in any way interested in girls.

  Or was there?

  She pulled my head back hard and kissed me on my mouth for the second time that night, and this time it was anything but gentle. It was hard, aggressive, and deep. I couldn’t respond, feeling her tongue moving in and out of my mouth. Sam didn’t even seem to care that I was not responding. She was just doing what she wanted to do. All I could think of was that her mouth didn’t taste of alcohol. It just tasted, strangely, like strawberries.

  “I’m sorry,” she said when she pulled her mouth off mine.

  I just dropped my head into the sink and wished that I could disappear down the drain. Her hand was still on the front of my thigh, moving so far up my short dress that I was sure that she was about to touch me where it mattered. I don’t think that she was even aware of this, but still the hand stayed put. I couldn’t move.

  When she finally freed me, she just leaned against the wall behind me. I was looking at her in the mirror, and she wasn’t looking at me. I felt like I had made another mistake, my second with Sam in one night. But I really had no response for what just happened here. I couldn’t process a damn thing.

  I opened the faucet and watched the water swirl in the bottom of the sink, disappearing down the drain steadily. I wanted Sam to leave me alone in the room now, but she was just not going anywhere. She seemed too interested in the ceiling, now.

  “I just need a minute,” I said, and started to throw water on my face. I heard her leave, and then I checked the door this time. I locked it and sat on the floor, my head spinning with thoughts that really weren’t my own. I didn’t even try to make sense of the many things going on in my head now, just letting my head do whatever the hell it wanted.

  Another knock on the door, and my heart almost leapt out of my chest. I wondered what Sam wanted from me, more than what she had already taken, rather forcefully. I was not ready for the confrontation that I felt building up inside me. I was never a confrontational person, but I knew that this was going to have to become a big part of my university arsenal.

  I opened the door, and there were two women standing in the doorway, one of them looking like she was abo
ut to be sick. I allowed them to enter, and made my way out and back into the party, with my face still wet. I didn’t care, really just wanting to get the hell out of there. When I made it to the front door without anybody stopping me, I knew that I was safe. I ran all the way back to our dorm building.

  When Sam came back two or three hours later I was still awake. I shut my eyes tightly and just pretended to be asleep, though!

  Chapter Five

  We ignored each other the next morning. Actually, she ignored me. I woke up and get ready for my first class and Sam was in bed, looking at the wall, busy on her phone. I knew that she was busy with nothing, but I let it go. It was just easier this way.

  Walking into my first American History class, I wasn’t intimidated at all. Everyone seemed to be huddled in groups, so I just chose a block of seats near the front that everyone seemed to avoid. I knew that I would be safe here.

  I hadn’t realized, though, that I was early, and with the other early worms, we watched in absolute horror as the lecture hall started to fill up. Nobody wanted to sit near the front, however, and I started to feel more and more comfortable.

  “Is anybody sitting here,” a voice said behind me. I recognized the voice immediately, and so I didn’t turn around for about a minute.

  “No,” I said, eventually, and felt the huge lump of a man position himself right next to me.

  I looked around, and saw that there were seats on either side of me. But Brett wanted to sit next to me, it seemed, and so there was really nothing that I could do about it. I just shuffled a little bit, and hid my face in my notepad. I knew that there was not a chance that I was going to take any notes though.

  When the professor came into the room I was less intimidated. This gave me a point of focus, something to concentrate on. But my writing hand didn’t work at all, and by the end of the lecture, which was more than an introduction, it was an actual lecture, I had no notes of which to speak.