by Bert Murray
There was no Mr. Wilson at this party. “I didn’t know she was your girlfriend.” I raised my palms. “I swear.” Shit. This was so stupid. I shouldn’t have danced with Liz. What a crazy thing for me to get into a fight over a girl I didn’t know. I didn’t even belong here. I was in love with Jasmine. What was I thinking?
Steve snarled as he shoved me backward again. “You fuckin’ scumbag.”
Liz stepped in between me and Steve, trying to hold her boyfriend back. “Please, Steve! Nothing happened. Leave him alone! Please don’t hurt him.”
“Stay out of this.” Steve pushed Liz to the side.
The crowd around me opened up as people tried to get out of the way. But everyone stayed to watch the action. Someone yelled, “Turn off the music.”
“OK. Calm down. Let’s talk about this.” I tried to sound nonchalant. Not worried at all.
“We’re done talking, asswipe!”
One of Steve’s friends stepped forward and offered to help out. “Let’s kick his ass,” the buddy screamed.
Two of them! This was really bad news. I was up shit creek. No strategy, no psychology, no persuasion was going to work with this pair of donkeys.
Steve turned around and raised his hand. “No. I got it, Doug. I’ll handle this stupid fucker.”
Not if I could help it. I kept my eyes on him, took a deep breath. In one quick move Steve turned back and threw a punch. I ducked as I’d planned. The momentum of his swing caused him to stumble forward. But he quickly regained his footing and turned red with rage. “You fucking pussy! Fight like a man!”
I looked around for Karl. I didn’t see him. Where was he? He got me into this. Damn. I was on my own. I threw a punch at Steve and it barely registered. The guy was rock solid.
At the last second, Karl appeared from nowhere and charged at Steve like a bull, fearless, ramming his shoulder into the center of the guy’s chest. They crashed to the floor, with Karl landing on top. Karl grabbed Steve by the collar of his shirt. Liz screamed. The crowd cheered.
Steve shouted and tried to get Karl off him. “Listen, shithead! This doesn’t involve you!”
“Like hell it doesn’t.” Karl straddled him. He held Steve’s shirt with one hand and punched him in the face with the other.
Steve’s nose exploded with thick, dark red blood. Doug was finished waiting. He jumped onto Karl’s back and knocked him down. But out of nowhere, a large black hand lifted him off Karl. It was Big Ty.
“Get the fuck off him,” Big Ty yelled. “You assholes are such pussies that you gotta fight two on one? That’s not fighting fair.”
Doug, looking frightened, backed away from Big Ty and stumbled over a bag of ice and hit his head on a chair.
Someone began to chant “Fight! Fight! Fight!” More people joined in. You would have thought they were watching George Foreman in the 10th round. Another one of Steve’s friends stepped forward to help but froze after he saw the angry look on Big Ty’s face. Steve finally stopped swinging. He realized the way it was going to go.
Karl stood up. “What?! You’re done?! That’s all you got?!”
“Enough. Enough.” Steve sat up and winced as he wiped his nose, smearing blood onto his cheek.
I looked at Karl and Big Ty. What balls! They didn’t know what fear was. There was ice in their veins. They never let a friend down when it counted.
Steve tried to convince Karl that he hadn’t done anything wrong. “I don’t have a beef with you. It’s that guy who was messing around with my girlfriend that started all of this.” Steve pointed directly to me and everybody stared.
Karl looked over his shoulder toward me. “Nice job, buddy,” he mouthed.
Steve pointed at me again. “You’re fucking dead!”
Big Ty jumped in. “No, man. I’m only gonna say it once. You gotta leave. Don’t make this difficult.” He didn’t yell. He didn’t have to.
Steve stared at Big Ty for a few seconds. “Okay, okay,” he said. Steve stood up and helped Doug to his feet, and they walked out of the room together.
I didn’t know what to say. I felt like a fool. My shirt was all wet and smelled like beer. My hair was sticky.
Liz walked over to me and apologized for everything. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I stood up very straight and tall. “It was nothing. Shit like this happens all the time.”
Liz smiled coyly at me. “I never meant to cause trouble.”
Karl turned toward Liz. “Why don’t you leave this party and come out with us?”
“I don’t think tonight’s the right night. But I would love to take a rain check with you guys.”
Karl grinned. “Room 321. Livingston Dorm. Stop by any time. We’re always open.”
“I love a business that’s so accommodating to its customers,” said Liz.
Karl whispered. “It’s not business, it’s pleasure.”
Liz stared at me. “Are you in the same dorm as he is?”
“Yes,” I said.
She hesitated for a second and then walked away.
11.
IT WAS NEVER hard to find Chester. He was in the dorm’s basement. He was always there.
Lennon would have called him a real nowhere man. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans, his gold chain around his neck, and was sitting with his back against the wall.
“Hey, what’s up?” I leaned against the banister.
“You talking to me?”
I smiled. “What do you think? There’s no one else here. Of course I’m talking to you.”
“Why are you? The truth is, most people ignore me. I’m used to it.” Chester lighted a joint. His face looked 10 years older than his age. There were dark lines under his beady, bloodshot eyes, and his hair was thinning on the top.
“I’m not most people. We met the other day. Remember?”
“Yeah. You’re the guy who sings. I still can’t picture you hanging out with all those theater nuts.”
I noticed that Chester avoided my eyes. “Anyway, how are things going?” I asked.
Chester looked down at his sneakers. “You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to hell.”
I couldn’t believe he just said that. Weird. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“I sold my soul. Like that Faust guy.”
For someone who never went to classes, he was well-read. “You’re being too hard on yourself,” I said.
He puffed on the joint. “My soul is submerged in a sickening filth. The devil’s got it.”
“Things can’t be that bad.”
“Sometimes I just want to hang myself. Other than that, everything is copacetic.”
I wondered what made Chester tick. What made him so depressed? I always felt better about myself as soon as I started talking to him. His problems made any issue I had seem minor.
12.
I WAS RESTING my head on Jasmine’s lap, reading e.e. cummings’ I like my body when it is with your (body). It described exactly how I felt when I made love to Jasmine. We were on the grass in the Quad, soaking up the sun.
It was at least 70 degrees and this October felt more like June. Without a breeze, thin, white clouds hung motionless in the bright fall afternoon. The sky was a rich shade of blue.
I stared at Jasmine’s long blond hair. I wanted to spend every minute with her. She was so creative. I craved the long conversations I had with her. We talked about the Doors, the Beatles, Monet, solar systems, Zen Buddhism and even the Holy Grail. Anything that was artistic or a little out there. I couldn’t have intellectual conversations like that with Karl or Big Ty. It wasn’t their thing. Just like John Lennon needed Yoko, I needed Jasmine.
Suddenly she blushed. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. This might sound a little odd.”
“Go ahead. Tell me. Tell me anything.”
“My real name isn’t Jasmine. I changed my name.”
Strange. Why would she do such a thing?
I would never change my name. “Really? What’s your real name?”
“Jane. It sounds like a housewife. I’m not that person. So I wanted a name that reflects who I’ve become. I’m Jasmine.”
“It’s a shrub, right?”
“Yeah, but the scent of the white and yellow flowers. That’s what I love.”
“What do your parents think about the name change?”
“Mom was okay with it. But my dad still refuses to call me Jasmine. He calls me Jane.”
I guessed this was what she’d meant when she told me she had secrets. At least she was opening up and sharing them with me. It made me feel good, because I wanted Jasmine to trust me.
“Jesus, your dad sounds so difficult. So you and he just never got along? Is that it?”
Jasmine shook her head. “No, it wasn’t always like this. We were close when I was a kid. I used to think he was the greatest person in the world. But when he began cheating on my mom, it destroyed my trust.”
I put my hands on Jasmine’s shoulders and began giving her a massage. She shut her eyes.
“Go a little bit lower,” she said. “Oh, that feels good.”
I kneaded her lower back with my fingers. She was like a puzzle. I kept rearranging the pieces every time I was with her.
“Ah, right there. That feels good.”
I heard someone shout my name.
Karl yelled. “Colin! Yo, Colin!” He had his mirrored sunglasses on. Karl jogged down Livingston’s stone steps toward us. There was a green Frisbee in his hand, a smile on his tanned face and confidence in his smooth stride.
“Hey, w’sup?” I shouted.
Karl shouted. “Catch.” He threw the Frisbee to me. I stood up. It was a straight, driving throw and it came right at my face. All I had to do was stand still and catch it. But the Frisbee ricocheted off the fingers of my right hand and fell to the ground. I quickly picked it up and threw it back to Karl. I watched it buckle in the wind and land 20 feet in front of him.
Karl shook his head. “You’re off your game today, Colin!”
As soon as he said that, I started to think maybe I was. He had too much influence over me. That bothered me. Why did I listen to him? Was it because he had more muscle? Or was it because he was so popular with girls? But I had brains. Or at least I liked to think so. Karl knew every girl in AEPhi’s pledge class, but I could name everybody in Reagan’s cabinet.
“I just need to get warmed up,” I said casually.
Karl threw the Frisbee back to me. Again he threw a bullet right into my hands. I returned the Frisbee and this time the green disc sailed up into the air. But I had flung it too hard. It landed in the branches of an elm tree about 50 feet from Karl.
“Shit,” I muttered, looking up at the tree.
“Nice one,” said Jasmine.
Shit. I just stood there like a fool. Karl shook his head and ran over to the tree.
He looked around the trunk and picked up a couple of small rocks and broken branches. One by one he hurled them at the Frisbee, which was trapped by three small branches. The first two throws hit the Frisbee, causing it to wobble. The third knocked it out of the tree. He picked it up and ran over to Jasmine and me.
Karl checked Jasmine out carefully. “You’re looking fantastic this afternoon.”
She was wearing a sheer white dress. It was hard to keep your eyes off her perfect face and succulent body. But the way he was staring at her made me uncomfortable. “Jesus, how many times this week have you used that line? Four? Five?” I asked.
“Thanks Karl, I like your glasses. They’re totally rad.” Jasmine completely ignored my comment. “You’re looking a lot better than you did Thursday night in the lounge, anyway. You couldn’t even form a sentence.”
“Yeah, it was a rough night. Group Therapy at the Campus Pub always gets me into trouble,” said Karl.
Group Therapy was the name for Thursday nights at the Campus Pub, when all groups of three or more got a free pitcher of beer. And wherever there was free beer, there was Karl.
Jasmine smiled. “I love Group Therapy! You totally have to let me know the next time you go.”
“It’s a date,” said Karl.
“Yeah, we’d love to go,” I said. No way in hell was I going to let them go together.
“Wanna toss the Frisbee a bit more, Colin?” asked Karl.
“Sure,” I said.
I didn’t want to. I had a feeling this wasn’t my day. But I needed to redeem myself. Otherwise, Jasmine would think I was totally inept. Karl ran back halfway to the end of the Quad. His right arm twisted back, and the Frisbee flew forward and landed seconds later in my hands. I took a deep breath and tossed it back.
It wasn’t a great throw—it wobbled and was low, close to the ground—but Karl dived and caught it. He was a natural athlete. It didn’t matter what sport he was playing. Karl could make the hardest plays look easy.
He made another perfect throw. He moved back so that we could throw the Frisbee up and down the length of the grassy area. He took off his shirt and tucked one end into the back of his shorts.
“Wow, he’s ripped,” said Jasmine.
I took off my T-shirt. Jasmine didn’t say anything. I began to have a hard time reaching Karl with my throws.
“Put your weight into it,” Jasmine suggested.
“I know,” I mumbled.
“I wanna try,” said Jasmine, standing and taking the Frisbee from me. “Hey, Karl! You ready?” she shouted.
Karl nodded. Jasmine threw it well, and the Frisbee soared across the Quad. Karl caught it.
I started to sweat. It was bad enough to be outdone by Karl. But Jasmine?
“Throw it back!” said Jasmine.
I’m not really sure what was in my mind at that moment. But I didn’t realize she was going for it, or maybe I heard her and just paid no attention. When Karl threw the Frisbee, both Jasmine and I tried to catch it. We collided. The Frisbee, Jasmine and I fell to the ground with a thud. I’d made an ass of myself.
“I’m sorry. Are you OK?” I asked her.
She frowned. Karl ran over to us and helped Jasmine stand up.
“Thanks,” she said.
I stood and wiped myself off. “I think I’ve had enough Frisbee.” I felt like such an idiot. I walked over to the blanket, put my shirt on and began to gather our things. “Jasmine, let’s go back to my room.” I wasn’t sure what her answer would be.
Maybe she wasn’t sure either because she hesitated for a few seconds before she said, “Yeah. Let’s go.”
13.
MY HEAD WAS pounding. I was eaten up with anger. My stomach was heaving. I dumped the blanket on my desk chair and lay on my bed next to Jasmine. I couldn’t believe the way Jasmine had acted with Karl. Sick. It was making me feel sick.
“Why’d you flirt with him?” I was yelling. I couldn’t help myself. “He’s my best friend.”
“When was I flirting with him? What is wrong with you? I can’t stand it when guys get jealous for no reason.” She rolled her eyes.
“I’m pissed for a very good reason.” I itched all over. I scratched my leg. Then my elbow.
“You shouldn’t be angry at all. I was just having fun out there. And what’s wrong with that?”
Jasmine put her arms around me. She began stroking me through my shorts. I relaxed. I got hard quickly. Things were going to be OK again because Jasmine wanted me, and that was all that mattered.
Jasmine whispered. “Take off your shirt.”
I took off my T-shirt and Jasmine kissed me on the chest. It felt amazing.
There was a loud knock at the door.
We froze but said nothing. Then there was another knock, this time harder. Jasmine and I looked at each other, trying to decide whether to answer. The knocking continued.
“Come on, guys, I know you’re in there!” yelled Karl.
“Don’t let him in,” Jasmine whispered into my ear.
Karl knocked louder.
“He�
��ll just keep banging. I know him! He’ll never leave,” I whispered back to her.
“So?”
Karl’s banging was really loud. I wouldn’t be able to make Jasmine happy with all that noise. “How can I concentrate when he’s banging like that?”
Karl shouted. “Guys, I can hear you! Let me in.” He banged even harder. “Come on! Let me in!”
There was no getting rid of him when he was this way. Karl wouldn’t give up. He’d ruin anything we did. I put my T-shirt back on. Jasmine sat up and shot me a look. She was pissed. I unlocked the door.
14.
KARL CAME IN and sat on my bed next to Jasmine. There was a smug smile on his face. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
Jasmine pulled a joint out of her bag and lighted it with her green lighter. She took a drag, held it in and lay on my blue and red Persian rug. “Colin, put some music on. How about The Who? I’m tired of the Beatles.”
I stepped over Jasmine and stuck Tommy in my tape deck. I hit “play.” Roger Daltrey’s voice flooded my room. Jasmine began to sing along with the song.
Karl looked down at Jasmine. “Do you know who sings this?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Duh, Roger Daltrey.”
“Then let him.” Karl laughed.
Jasmine threw her lighter at Karl’s knee.
Karl took off his shirt. “Goddamn, it’s fucking hot in here. Why can’t they put air conditioners in the dorms?”
Jasmine rolled onto her stomach and took another puff of her joint. “Nice six-pack.” She stared at his abs.
I had to go to the bathroom, but I didn’t want to leave the two of them alone. Not even for a minute. I sat on my desk chair and began to tap the desk nervously with my hand.
“Hey, Colin, where’s your chess set?” asked Karl.
