This is like freedom. I never knew it could be like this. I never knew I could trust someone so much and have them be...so…right.
He pulls away. “I feel like….you’re special, Vic. I mean that,” he says and now he’s opening my car door and pushing me inside. “Come on, you gotta get home, girl. Work on that homework and get that pretty ass to class.”
I sit down and smile at him through my wet eyes. Oh my God.
“Bye,” I say with a smile and he says,
“Bye, love,” and closes the door. I turn on the engine and let the car sit for a moment and idle. He’s not walking up the walk yet to his front door, where is he?
And then I see it, a heart being traced into the frost on my back windshield.
October 31, 2004
Drunk sex with… a virgin
The water is hot, scalding, and I relax under the stream, some of my tension flowing out of me. Tonight I’m going to a party, a Halloween party at a frat house on campus. I’ve been invited by a few girls in my Astronomy lab. Inside I’m humming with excitement at the idea of getting dressed up in a sexy costume, getting blazing drunk and going out where lots of people are bound to be. It’s scary as hell too, my ever present stomach clench of dread is nagging at me, but luckily my super-secret anti-anxiety elixir, alcohol, should save me.
I finish up, turn off the water and jump out of the shower, drying myself as quickly as possible in the cooler air. I wrap a towel around me and move to the counter, where all my supplies are spread out. Time to get glam-o-rous. The freakin pains we go to for beauty. I hum to myself as I pick up each tool, using them deftly, my wrists flicking as I apply blush to my cheeks. I’m trying, and failing to distract myself from the obsessive thoughts of anxiety about the night ahead.
One of the girls I’m going to the party with is Hannah, a pretty blonde with blue eyes and a cute upturned nose who I had met in class several weeks before. She’s the kind of girl I always wished I could be, cute, petite, thin, and definitely the kind of girl that guys love. We had been assigned as lab partners and became fast friends. Hannah is easy to talk to, loves to laugh and has a dirty sense of humor just like me. We’ve spent a lot of time together recently, eating lunch, hanging in her dorm room, and even a quick trip to the mall in my car, albeit with some heart thumping panic thrown into each activity on my part. The other girls are Hannah’s friends and are really nice, although I don’t know them well yet.
Hannah and I have conspired together about what costumes we’ll wear and I’m really excited for my first Halloween on campus. Like, really fucking excited. Our trip to the mall last week provided us with the accessories we need to pull off our joint costumes. Apparently Halloween is something you do not miss out on when you’re a college student, it’s a chance to get dressed up, go out, and have as much drunk fun as possible. It seems like everyone I talk to, or overhear in class, is going out on campus this weekend. And if possible, going out several times. I can’t wait to get trashed, completely fucked in the head, not myself. The idea is sexy, alluring and so free from panic that I’m almost in a tizzy. But getting myself there in one piece is the trick.
I fold my new black skirt and red bustier, placing them in an overnight bag because I’m not going to get dressed up in my costume yet. I know damn well that my parents will not approve of my sexy devil costume so I’ll wait to change into it at Hannah’s dorm room where she will be dressed up as an angel. As I brush my hair, my stomach clenches in violent contractions and my hand holding the brush shakes. It’s pre-anxiety, something I always experience before going out somewhere and I deal with it alone in my bathroom, trying to tamp it down so that it won’t overwhelm me completely.
It’s always the same ritual. Getting dressed and putting on make-up are automatic, easily accomplished after years of practice, leaving my mind free to zoom between thoughts of sheer terror, my stomach knotted tight. What if I get to the frat and start panicking and need to leave? How will I escape? We’ll probably walk there and no one will want to walk me back and I’ll start freaking and I can’t use their bathroom because then people will know that I’m disgusting and I can’t walk back on my own at night...on and on. Then I try to calm myself down, rationalizing with the monster, talking myself off a cliff. I’ll be okay because I’ll just drink more. Drinking always knocks that shit out of my head and tonight will be no different. Besides, I can’t let this shit win, I want to have some fucking fun.
So momentarily I’m able to slow the beating of my heart until the next terrifying scenario runs through my mind. I try to distract myself with the detail work of applying black eye liner and wonder what the night will bring. Will I have a good time? Will I be able to control my anxiety? Will I meet a hot guy, someone who isn’t an asshole like Brad or a cheater like Nick? Now that I’m thinking about guys, a thrill of excitement runs through me, overriding my worries for a moment. I really like getting sexy for a night out.
Finally after a quick pep talk to calm my racing heart, I’m ready to leave and go downstairs to say goodbye to my parents. They are sitting in the kitchen at the small round table, having coffee and dessert after a late dinner. My dad is big and gruff, still in his work clothes fresh off the construction site, his soft hearted smile for his only daughter is sincere and honest and my mother is always casual, cute, and petite, her voice soft and muted compared to my father’s louder outbursts.
“Where are you off to?” asks my father, getting up to give me a hug. My parents are affectionate, caring people and I have always been able to rely on them to help me and take care of me, but they are also strict and have a hard time letting me go my own way. I smile at Dad, readying myself for the half-truths to come.
“I’m going to a party on campus,” I reply, pulling away to pick up my black bag containing my phone and money and check to make sure my keys are in the bottom, pretending to be preoccupied.
“Are you coming home afterward?” asks my mother, getting up to stand beside my father, her question anticipated.
“No, I’m staying over with my friend Hannah in her dorm room,” I recite, avoiding their eyes. I know they won’t like that answer, but hopefully won’t complain. I grab the bag I had filled with overnight items and my costume from the couch, so that I don’t have to see their disapproving looks.
“I suppose that should be okay,” says my mother, looking wary. “I want you to be careful though and you know you can always call us if you have a problem.” My dad frowns, but doesn’t say anything, tugging my arm to pull me in for another hug.
“Be a good girl,” he whispers, giving me an extra squeeze. I squeeze him back, smelling the masculine scent of sawdust and outdoors. It’s a smell that always makes me feel safe. I smile at my parents and am soon out the door.
Outside I make my way to my car, throwing the overnight bag in the backseat as I climb into the front. I suddenly feel a rush of emotion. Guilt. My parents really care about me and I hate deceiving them. They don’t know that I’m going to drink and I don’t want them to find out. My eyes tear up, as I think back to how they’ve always been there for me. They love me so much and they know everything about me. Well, almost everything. Everything except Normal Party-Girl Victoria. They have never met her, thank God.
I drive to campus and meet the girls at Hannah’s dorm room. It’s a chore to get myself inside because my stomach is clenched and I feel like vomiting, but soon I’m up the stairs, I don’t do elevators, and once inside I am surrounded by clothes, make-up and girls who are giggling and laughing as they put on their scandalous costumes. Everyone is still primping except for Hannah’s long-legged, auburn haired friend Kayla who happens to have a few bottles of hard lemonade. She offers one to me and I jump at the chance for some sweet pre-game.
Thank God, something to lessen the anxiety. I start pouring it down my throat, trying not to make it obvious that I’m guzzling. I feel like every day I’m constantly reminded that I have a problem and I don’t want a problem anymore. I want to
be NORMAL!!
While I rummage around in my bag, Hannah starts to put on her costume and I watch as she slips into her clingy white spaghetti strap dress and small white wings. Hannah makes a perfect angel with her fair coloring and a halo that is a headband with a circle of gold held above with nearly invisible wires. She grabs her plastic gold harp from the bed and poses in the mirror, her curly hair framing her face in waves.
“How do I look?” she asks, her reflection grinning at me like a trampy, yet somehow innocent beauty queen.
“You look like a hoe-bag angel!” I state with a laugh, reaching over to pull my costume out of my overnight bag. I’m wearing a short black fake leather skirt and a red bustier with a sweetheart neck line and a very nice push up bra to show off the goods. I also have a pitch-fork and a clip-on pointed tail. I stand in front of the mirror and pull on my tight skirt, black thigh-highs and knee high black boots. Then I swipe dark red lipstick on my lips and turn around to pin on my tail. Hannah and I stand together in the mirror our arms about each other’s waist.
“This is awesome,” I say, turning sideways to admire my fake tail and finally remembering to grab my sparkly, blood red horns and position them on my head.
“Yeah that completes the look.” I grin at my reflection and give myself a saucy wink that has Hannah and I laughing.
#######################
We’re on our way to the frat, strutting down the tree lined Main Street toward downtown. There are people everywhere, passing us by in a shit ton of different costumes and now and then we openly laugh out loud at ridiculous and skanky stuff we see. There’s a dude yelling and weaving, clearly already drunk, in a hotdog costume and another guy is running to catch up with him, yelling for him to wait, in a too large banana suit. He keeps tripping over the front of the banana almost falling. Then we hear the hotdog guy yell,
“Fuck you banana-man!” And we can’t help but laugh at this funny shit.
And now comes a group of girls as cheerleaders with pom poms and finally another tall thin girl rushes by staring at her cell phone in a tight reddish-orange tube dress that says Solo Cup on the front and “wanna play flip cup?” on the back. She does a double take at us and finally yells, “Hey, Kayla” as we pass, asking where we’ll be later.
“ATO, betch,” Kayla yells back as the girl waves.
“There will be so many fucking hot guys tonight,” says Hannah as she’s momentarily distracted by a guy walking by in a tight football costume. She shivers in her slinky white dress, a coat thrown over her shoulders, in the chilly October weather. “See, that was just a preview, girls,” she says smiling over her shoulder at me and Kayla.
“I’m so f-in excited,” I say, already feeling a slight buzz from the lemonade. “This will be my first frat party!”
“No shit, Victoria!!” says no-nonsense Kayla, who’s dressed up as a cowgirl, her plaid button up shirt opened to just below her breasts showing plenty of tanned skin, her auburn hair in pig tails. She’s got an added slutty costume bonus, the words “I ride the big ones” scrawled on her chest in magic marker. “I can’t believe you haven’t been to one before! We’re gonna have to show you a good time tonight at ATO.”
“Hells yes, and they’ll be dancing too, we’re gonna shake our asses!” says Hannah.
“Plus beer and hard alcohol and I hear that it ‘always snows at ATO’,” says dark haired pixie cut Celeste, pulling on the strap of her bright orange halter top that goes with her 80’s hooker costume, “We’re going to initiate you, you betch!”
“Oh shit, I really hope that hot guy I made out with last week is there tonight. I think he’s a brother,” says Kayla with a grin. “I want to get in his pants soooo bad. Maybe he’ll let me ride his big one, if I’m a good girl,” she says with a loud laugh. “Oh yeah…and it always does snow at ATO,” she replies with a wink.
“You’re such a boozy, drugged out skank,” says Hannah, point blank, pretending to be totally serious and Kayla laughs again with a smile.
“What does ‘it always snows at ATO’ mean,” I ask, clearly I’m not up on the frat lingo yet.
“It means they always have coke somewhere in that place,” says Kayla, totally matter of fact. Ok, then, sounds rowdy.
“You know, it’s like, ’their balls are always blue at Sigma Nu,’” she says with another loud laugh, “Those guys are not attractive, poor fucking sods.”
We’re nearing downtown and the frat now and can hear the music thumping, the bass beat moving through the ground, gaining strength, and people are already crowding the path and porch to the front door of the large, brightly lit, brick house.
“I love this song,” I say feeling looser by the minute as my hips start to sway to the music. This is going to be a fun night. Tonight I can pretend that I’m normal, that I don’t have a problem that haunts my every waking decision. And maybe, just maybe, I can find some hot man to grind myself on.
We wait in the line for a few minutes and finally climb the steps to meet a frat brother at the door who checks us over before admitting us. It seems that we make the cut and he points to where we need to go inside the old house.
As we walk through the front door, two clearly drunk guys start to whoop and cat call as soon as they see us, eyes roving over my scandalous bustier top and tiny skirt and Hannah’s slinky tight white dress.
“Oh yeah, sexy devil and angel,” says one guy from underneath a pimp’s fedora. “I’d like to get in between you two sexy bitches.”
Hannah and I smile at each other and walk down the hallway toward the door to the basement, strutting like we own the world. As we pass the different rooms, all stuffed with party-goers, I notice that the frat is… disgusting. It’s dirty, trash everywhere, but no one seems to mind because there’s a shit ton of alcohol flowing. Apparently this is a true “guys” house. Nasty! But who gives a fuck? Everyone I see has a Solo cup, beer or a shot glass in hand and from the noise emanating from the basement, there’s a rager going on. I’m definitely ready to partay.
“We look hot,” whispers Hannah as we pass a group of girls in various costumes who give us side eye glances, their stuck-up, withering expressions raking over us. Feast your eyes, girls, I think, feeling pretty damn good.
As we make our way to the stairs leading to the basement, I can’t help but overhear a conversation between a half-naked Little Red Riding Hood and a slutty pirate wench with a large grey plastic cutlass.
“Did you see Jared and Andy McKinley?” asks Little Red Riding Hood with a sneer, adjusting her white thigh high stockings.
“No, what are they dressed up as?” replies the slutty wench, swiping her cutlass through the air, the clueless blonde of the two.
“Oh my God, you won’t believe how hot they look. They are dressed up as Tom Cruise and Val Kilmer from Top Gun.”
“You mean like flight suits or camo or something?” asks the pirate wench, watching her sword swipe through the air, almost sloshing her beer from her red Solo cup in the process.
“No, the volleyball scene. Neither of them is wearing a shirt, all they have on is dog tags, sunglasses and shorts. They’re soooo fuck-worthy,” says Red, looking like she’s about to swoon. Just then her friend’s beer spills onto her leg and she jumps back. “Jesus, Jess, watch your fuckin cup, bitch…you fuckin spilled on me!” she shrieks, glaring at her friend.
I barely notice this last display because the name Jared McKinley is pinging around in my mind and suddenly I feel high. Isn’t that the name of the guy from the store a few weeks ago? Isn’t it? Intrigued, my pulse rate spikes sending hot adrenaline flowing through me. I need to catch a glimpse of these hot guys and see if this Jared is the same hottie from the store. He must be, how many hot Jared McKinley’s can there be in the area? And if Hot Jared has a brother…OMG.
We’re at the top of the stairs to the basement now and the music is much louder and I’m super excited, forgetting to panic, hoping for another encounter with Jared, feeling a flush of sizzling he
at rush to my cheeks. The going is pretty slow, but soon the dimly lit but large open basement comes into view and there are people everywhere in every imaginable costume. I can see plenty of skank-ass hoes dancing, while other groups of guys and girls are yelling to be heard over the music, laughing and holding red cups filled with beer or other beverages. I try to point out a dude dressed as a hilarious Super Mario with a huge oversized mustache, but the music is so loud that Hannah doesn’t hear me even though she’s right next to me. There’s another guy totally owning a red Elmo costume, holding a huge bong and I choke on my laugh as I get blasted with smoke that smells yeasty and burnt, like gross old ciggys and spilt beer.
I step down, the crowd finally moving a bit and now the slutty hoe-bags are easier to see. I study them, seeing sexy nurses, school girls, cops, celebrities, harem girls, fairies and more, and the guys that I can see are dressed up as pimps, cops, cowboys, and movie characters. Toward the back of the room, drinking games have been set up. Flip cup, beer pong, quarters, and everything in between.
I’m scanning the room when suddenly I focus on two guys without shirts on at the beer pong table. Holy shit! I can’t wait to get closer and see what they really look like. Since I’m so caught up and not paying attention, I trip on some trash, my toe stuck in some kind of goo and I wobble, quickly grabbing the rickety hand rail to keep from falling in my heels. I look around hoping no one saw and then laugh to myself. Shit’s nasty…now where’s the beer?
Angst Page 6
