Pressure

by Jeff Strand

  “What about your girlfriend?” I asked, amused.

  Darren checked his watch. “My loyalty period is just about to expire.”

  “You’re such a sleaze.”

  “But I’m a lovable sleaze, and that’s all that’s important. Ooh! Ooh! There’s your space cadet!”

  Darren pointed over my shoulder. I turned around and saw the girl who’d accidentally walloped me in the bookstore. She was carrying a ridiculously tall stack of books and having a bit of trouble managing it.

  “She is cute, though,” Darren noted.

  “Very.”

  I looked back at Darren. He was grinning.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You’ve never agreed with me before. You usually just tolerate my obnoxious misogynistic behavior.”

  “Yeah, well, you were right, she is cute.”

  “So’s the girl with the mammoth tits.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “What? Tits?”

  “No. Mammoth tits. I’m not turned on by woolly breasts.”

  Darren grinned even more broadly. “I can’t believe it. You’re trying to change the subject. You’ve got the hots for the spacey chick, haven’t you?”

  “Nah.”

  “You can’t lie to me. She’s got you mes-mer-ized. So don’t sit here yapping with me, dipshit, go talk to her.”

  “She’s probably busy.”

  “That’s the weakest possible excuse you could come up with. If you let her go, I promise you, she’ll smack into some other guy and he’ll be doing her doggy-style before the day is over.”

  “Sleaze.”

  “Go talk to her. I’ve got a private room, so you two can use my place for your thrusting and moaning.”

  “No.”

  “Go talk to her.”

  “I don’t have anything to say.”

  “Offer to help her with the stack of books.”

  I glanced over my shoulder. “She’s gone, anyway.”

  “She went around that corner,” said Darren, pointing. “Go talk to her or I swear, I’ll scream at you to take your hand off my dick. I’ll do it. You know I’ll do it.”

  I closed my book, pushed back my chair, and stood up. My heart was pounding as I headed in the direction that Darren had pointed, but it was pounding in a good way.

  As I turned the corner, I saw her, still struggling with the stack of books. I hurried over, walked behind her for a few steps, and then walked up beside her.

  “Hi,” I said.

  She glanced over at me. “Oh my gosh! How are you? You’re not still hurt, are you?”

  “No, no, I’m fine.”

  “Oh, good. I felt like such a geek.”

  “Can I help you with that?” I asked, gesturing to her stack of books.

  “That would be awesome. There don’t seem to be any empty tables in this place.”

  I took the top half of her stack, about ten books. The top book was something about Egyptian mummies.

  “Oh, that’s much better,” she said. “Thanks. They should give you shopping carts. ’Course, I’d just bash into people with that, too. Could you do me a huge favor and push up my glasses?”

  I quickly adjusted the stack of books and used my free hand to push up her thick glasses.

  “Thanks so much.”

  “No problem.”

  “Oh, thank goodness, there’s an empty table up there.”

  As we made a beeline toward the table, another student sat down at it. The girl sighed in frustration.

  “There’s another one,” I said, doing a half sprint toward it and nearly dropping the stack of books. Fortunately, I made it to the table without the unbearable humiliation of dropping them and she breathed a sigh of relief as she set down her own stack.

  “Now I just have to camp out here for the rest of the semester and I’ll be fine,” she said, sitting down.

  I stood there helplessly. Should I leave? Should I ask if I could join her? Should I make an informed yet witty comment about Egyptian mummies?

  “Are you busy? Did you want to sit down?” she asked, sparing me from any decision making. I loved her for it.

  “Sure,” I said, sitting down across from her.

  “Did we introduce ourselves after I hit you in the stomach?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. I’m Melanie.”

  “Alex.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  We just looked at each other in awkward silence for a long moment, until Melanie burst into giggles. “Wow, we’re the best conversationalists ever!”

  “We’re brilliant!”

  “Astounding!”

  My mind went blank as I tried to think of another adjective, and Melanie burst into giggles again.

  “What’s your major?” she asked. “Please don’t tell me communications.”

  “Architecture.”

  “Like it?”

  “It’s okay so far. I only have one class on it so I can’t tell yet.”

  “I’m history. I don’t know what I’m gonna do with it yet, but I always liked history.” She pushed up her glasses again. “I really should get contacts one of these days.”

  “Why haven’t you?”

  “I’m not sure I want to touch my eyeball. I don’t think you’re supposed to do that. And I’d always be worried that I’d blink and the contact would slide up onto the top of my eye and come off and get lost back there. Yecch.”

  “The glasses look good on you.”

  “You think so? I’m going for the nerd look. I got bored with the whole beauty pageant queen, supermodel, Greek goddess thing.”

  “It works for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  We continued talking. We talked about high school, movies we loved, movies that sucked, our favorite authors, our favorite music, how the first two weeks of college were going, foods we liked, foods that made us queasy, our roommates, our hobbies, and our childhood. Once we got started, the conversation was effortless, even when I told her about my parents. Oddly enough, we didn’t share many of the same tastes, but talking to her made me want to experience Italian cinema and listen to Dar Williams music and eat a slaw dog. I didn’t even like cole slaw, but a slaw dog sounded wonderful.

  We talked so long that we didn’t even realize that there were now plenty of open tables. It wasn’t until a librarian told us that they were closing up that we realized we’d been sitting there for several hours.

  “Oh my gosh, I didn’t get anything done!” Melanie exclaimed. “I mean, I got a lot done, I loved talking to you, but I didn’t finish any of my research!” She smiled. “Darn you for being so interesting.”

  “Did you want to go get something to eat?” I asked.

  “Oh, I’d love to, but I have to turn in the first draft of this paper tomorrow and I’m going to be pulling an all-nighter. I don’t write fast. I’ll just have a vending machine dinner.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you busy this weekend?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Wanna go to the movies?”

  “Yeah,” I said, because screaming “hell yeah!” at the top of my lungs would have made me seem needy.

  “You can pick it, but I get veto power.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  “Wanna help me get these to the checkout counter?”

  “Sure thing.”

  After she’d checked out her books, I walked her back to her dorm, which was disappointingly close to the library. One of her friends was walking in at the same time and offered to share the load, so Melanie gave me a hug and reminded me to call her.

  I walked away from the dorm, feeling like I was glowing. In a good way, not the radioactive 1950s monster-movie way.

  Wow.

  I knew what I should do. I should pick her up something good for dinner and drop it off so she wouldn’t have to eat candy bars from the vending machine. Maybe I’d get a rose to go wit
h it.

  Nah, I didn’t want to come off like a stalker. I had to play it cool, like Darren would. Just give her a call tomorrow night as planned.

  I headed back to my dorm, but I didn’t really feel like going inside. It was too nice of an evening. I strolled around campus until nearly midnight, feeling good about everything in my life.

  I felt less good when the alarm woke me up at 6:15 a.m., but I forced myself to get out of bed, attended all of my classes that day, and even paid attention in most of them. After all, getting kicked out of school would adversely impact my ability to keep seeing Melanie. And if we were to get married and have kids, I’d need a good job, so it was important to study hard and get excellent grades and make sure that I…

  Yes, I was eighteen years old and envisioning an elaborate future with a girl I’d really only gotten to know the day before. Call me a romantic.

  I gave Melanie a call after dinner. Because she had to study for a test, we only talked for two hours instead of the desired sixteen, but it was a wonderful conversation, hampered only by Will’s frequent “gagging” gestures. We weren’t even saying any lovey-dovey stuff.

  When we finally hung up, even the mutilated bodies on our wall seemed to be radiating love and happiness. Ed Gein, the inspiration for Psycho and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, looked like Cupid.

  The phone rang.

  “If she’s calling you back already, I’m going to puke,” Will informed me.

  “Keep it on your side of the room.” I picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Dude, I’ve been trying to call you for the past hour!” said Darren. “You’ve gotta come over here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you do. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

  “I’ve got homework.”

  “Screw homework. I’ve got life lessons here, Alex. This is education that you’ll remember forever. Get over here.”

  “All right, all right. God, you’re pushy.”

  “Get over here quick.”

  “I will.”

  “No lollygagging.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I’ll kick your ass if you lollygag.”

  “Maybe you should chill.”

  “Maybe you should get over here before it’s too late.”

  I hung up the phone. “I’ll be back,” I told Will as I headed out the door. Darren’s dorm was on the other side of campus and I jogged most of the way. I walked up the stairs to the third floor and knocked on his door.

  Darren answered and quickly ushered me inside. The first thing to catch my attention was the nearly naked woman on the bed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  She looked a couple of years older than us, and was dressed only in black panties and a tube top. Under other circumstances she was probably an incredibly attractive woman, but her brown hair was messed up and her makeup was smeared. She smiled and gave me a clumsy wave as Darren shut the door behind us.

  “Alex, meet Trisha,” Darren said.

  “Hi,” I said, politely but warily.

  Trisha nodded. I couldn’t quite tell if she was looking at me or at something behind me.

  “So what’s up?” I asked Darren.

  “She’s pretty hot, huh?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “You want her?”

  “What?”

  “She’s yours if you want her. You’re not gonna get many chances at a body like that. She’s horny as all shit.”

  I looked back at her. “Darren, she’s drunk off her ass.”

  “So? Dude, I’m offering you an end to your virginity. C’mon, I told her all about you. She said she’d do both of us.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m completely serious. But we don’t have to share her. You can have her all to yourself. Now that is friendship.”

  “Is she a student here?”

  Darren shook his head. “Nah, just some waitress I met.”

  “You and those waitresses.” I forced a chuckle. “I’ve gotta get going.”

  “This is exquisite pussy you’re passing up. You can’t just walk out on this. At least get her shirt off and check out what I’m offering.”

  “I’ve got a girlfriend.” I was pretty sure that Melanie didn’t quite count as an official girlfriend yet, but it did seem like a good excuse to get me out of here.

  “The spacey chick?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You fuck her?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Because if you didn’t fuck her, there’s no commitment yet and you can do whatever you want. And if you did fuck her, then she’s a slut who puts out on the first date, and you shouldn’t have any commitment there, either. C’mon, nobody will know. I won’t say a word.”

  “I’m not doing it.”

  “Why not? Give me one reason.”

  “She could have diseases.”

  “That’s what rubbers are for.”

  “It could break.”

  “So you let her use her mouth.”

  I took a deep breath and tried to speak in such a way as to allow no room for argument. “I’m not doing anything with her, and that’s final. I appreciate you thinking of me, but my first time is not going to be with a drunk lady that I met thirty seconds ago. I’m not going to mess things up with Melanie before they even start.”

  Darren shrugged and let out a deep sigh. “All right. I was just doing you a favor.”

  “Thanks.”

  Darren looked at Trisha, then back at me and lowered his voice. “You could hit her.”

  “Say what?”

  “She’s more than just drunk. She wouldn’t feel it.”

  I gaped at him.

  Darren slapped me on the back, hard. “Aw, I’m just playing with you, buddy. You go back and get some sleep. Tell the spacey chick I said hi.”

  “I will.”

  He opened the door for me. “Yeah, I’m gonna make me some sweet, sweet love. Give me a call if you change your mind. We’ll be here all night.”

  “Okay.”

  I stepped out into the hallway and he closed the door. I walked toward the stairwell, desperately craving a shower.

  Darren called late the next morning.

  “I am so sorry,” he said. “That was totally uncool. I’d had way too much to drink and I just got out of hand. It’ll never happen again, I promise.”

  “All right,” I said, not convinced.

  “I didn’t even sleep with her. I sent the skank home. You were right, who knows what kind of filthy diseases she could’ve been carrying? She could’ve melted the condom right off me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Aw, c’mon, you’re still pissed off. Don’t be pissed. Let me make it up to you.”

  “Nah, it’s fine.”

  “Things are working out with that library girl, huh?”

  “Melanie, yeah.”

  “Good to hear. You gonna be around?”

  “For a bit.”

  “Cool. I’m on my way.”

  When Darren showed up at my dorm room, he was holding a piece of red licorice. “Peace offering,” he said, handing it to me.

  “Thanks.”

  “I apologize again for last night. I will never mix Jack Daniel’s and Snapple ever again. I’m glad you turned me down…if both of us stud muffins had gone at her, she would’ve been paralyzed from the lips down.”

  “You just wanted me to observe your penis.”

  “Yeah, well, there was that, too.” He sat down at Will’s desk. “So when are you getting together with Melanie again?”

  “Friday for a movie. Maybe before that for lunch or something. I don’t know.”

  “You bringing her back here?”

  “Not with you in the room.”

  “No, seriously, are you bringing her back here?”

  “I haven’t planned that far. I doubt it.”

  “If you do, do you want her to see all this crap?” Darren gestured to Will’s decora
tions.

  “Not really.”

  “So get rid of it.”

  “I was going to ask Will about that later.”

  “Why haven’t you asked him already?”

  “I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

  “You’re not going to get any action if you’ve got all this serial killer stuff up on your walls,” said Darren, standing up. “That is, unless Melanie’s a necrophile, and necrophiles are hard to come by in a college setting. Let’s make this stuff go bye-bye.”

  “I said I was going to ask him about it.”

  “Why ask him? It’s your room, too, right?”

  “Half of it.”

  Darren reached over and plucked a color photograph of a decapitated head off the wall. “See, why does he need this? It’s not like he severed the head himself.” He crumpled up the picture in his fist and tossed it onto the floor.

  “Hey, whoa!”

  “Whoa what? What’s he going to do to you? Beat you up? You can take him.” Darren yanked a newspaper article off the wall and crumpled it up as well.

  “Seriously, don’t do that,” I said, picking the photo off the floor and straightening it out the best I could. “It’s not my stuff.”

  “But you have to look at it.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ll take care of it tonight.”

  “Let’s take care of it now.” Darren ripped a second newspaper article off the wall.

  “Damn it, knock it off!” I said. “I have to live with him!”

  “That’s exactly why you shouldn’t let him push you around.”

  “He’s not pushing me around! I never asked him to take them down! I said I’ll ask him tonight. Quit wrecking his stuff.”

  “Wow,” said Darren. “I’ve never seen you pissed.”

  “Yes you have, you just don’t remember. Now quit it. I mean it.”

  “You need to control your life. Let Will know that you’re in charge of this room. Let that morbid little freak know that it’s your room, and you’re just being nice enough to let him hang out here. C’mon, let’s rip all this shit down and show him that there’s not a thing he can do about it.”

  “He can sure go tell the resident advisor.”

  “Yeah, and…?”

  “And get me in trouble.”

  Darren rolled his eyes. “He’s not gonna tattle on you. If he does, you say you asked him over and over to take these pictures down because they made you sick and he refused. Say you were in fear for your life. Worst-case scenario, you get switched to a new roommate. You’d be better off.”