Chapter 5

 

 

Barbara reluctantly sipped from the beer one of James’s frat brothers had handed her unbidden. She held the red plastic cup away from her costume so she wouldn’t spill on it. Apart from the fact that she wouldn’t leave a good impression on anyone if her white Wilma Flintstone dress was defaced by beer stains, she also didn’t like the smell of it. She also didn’t want to give away what an obvious party pooper she was, standing at the edge of the room, watching the noisy party guests, waiting for James. He’d disappeared into the crowd in his Fred Flintstone costume a few minutes earlier to help defuse a fight between some drunken frat boys.

He’d promised he wouldn’t be long, but when she still couldn’t spy him in the throng of costumed drunks, she suspected it might take a little more patience.

She’d actually been looking forward to his fraternity’s Halloween party, ever since she’d talked James into these costumes, because the thought of going together as the Flintstones was adorable. She’d been doubly excited because it was her first real college party, and she’d be attending it with her boyfriend.

They’d been a couple for two months now, and Barbara couldn’t have been any happier. Her boyfriend—her serious, steady boyfriend—was not only the most charming person she knew, he was also the most decent guy imaginable. Even here in this raucous frat house, where the walls shook with the bass from the speakers, and half-naked girls were drunkenly dancing on tables, and even drunker guys in superhero capes were using the wide wooden staircase as a halfpipe, James had held the door for her and helped her out of her coat.

The evening could have been really fun … except Barbara was standing right next to two of James’s frat brothers, and she could hear what they were saying even over the din of the crazed mob.

“Where the hell is Toby? And I haven’t seen Sandra, either.”

“Haven’t you heard? Toby broke up with her. They were together three weeks, and she still hadn’t let him do her. So he ditched her.”

“That’s crazy! After three weeks, you’d think …”

“What guy would wait three weeks to have sex? We’re not in high school anymore, dude.”

Fortunately, it was so hot in the house that nobody could possibly know Barbara’s red cheeks weren’t the result of the temperature but instead the brief exchange she’d just overheard.

She swallowed hard, worried she wouldn’t be able to find her voice if someone happened to speak to her now. Her throat was dry as the desert. She downed half the contents of her large cup and struggled to block the two guys’ conversation from her memory.

What guy would wait three weeks to have sex?

She nervously shifted her weight, her heart beating wildly as she contemplated the fact that James had been waiting two months already. Granted, so far, he hadn’t done anything to pressure or coerce her into sleeping with him—and that’s without him even knowing she was a virgin—but if his frat brothers thought three weeks was an unbearably long time, two months must have meant an eternity.

She leaned against the wall and nodded at a classmate who was dancing past her in a Tina Turner dress and wig. Then Barbara’s insecure gaze traveled the crowd again. James was still nowhere to be seen. Clutching her cup, she wondered weakly if she should just sleep with James tonight. They were in his frat—his bedroom was upstairs. They could lock the door, and she guessed they wouldn’t be the only couple having sex at this party.

Maybe she should really just get it over with. After all, James was her boyfriend, not some random high school date. She felt at home with him, completely comfortable, so why not sleep with him tonight? It wasn’t as if they’d spent two months holding hands. The weekend before, Lily had gone to San Francisco to visit her sister, and Barbara had brought James to her room to watch a movie, lie in bed, and make out. He’d stripped her down to her underwear and put his hand in her panties, until Barbara asked him to stop.

It was strange, but she couldn’t have said why she’d stopped him. There had actually been a loud voice in her head that wanted him to proceed. But Barbara had felt that it wasn’t right.

She hadn’t wanted to sleep with James in her narrow bed in her dorm room, tortilla chip crumbs on the comforter. She wanted her first time to be special, not a hasty encounter in a room she shared with another student.

And if she was honest, she didn’t want her first time to be at a Halloween party, either. With her hair spray-painted bright red and topped with a giant plastic bone, like a real cartoon character. But what if James thought she was a prudish tease for making him wait? What if she wasn’t worth waiting for? She’d much rather go to his room and sleep with him tonight than the alternative …

There was a flutter in her stomach, so she raised the cup to her lips and finished the beer in three huge gulps. As soon as her cup was empty, she was holding another in her hand. Though she had no idea who’d given it to her, she drank it quickly and eagerly received the third one, which she began downing just as quickly.

But James was suddenly standing before her. He was slightly blurry as he stared at her cup with a frown. Then he took it out of her hand. “Who gave you this?”

“I have no idea,” she replied honestly, wondering why her tongue was so heavy in her mouth. “It was just there.”

James pushed the cup at one of his pals, who he berated in an angry voice. But Barbara felt weightless and surprisingly amazing, so she turned away from James’s angry face. Her attention fell on two female students sliding down the banister of the wide staircase, cheering with excitement and joy. Barbara guffawed and clamped a hand over her mouth, ready to bubble over with laughter, as the two girls reached the end of the banister and knocked over a male student in a Hillary Clinton costume.

“Barbara, are you okay?” It was James. Asking after her in a voice that sounded strangely concerned.

She grabbed his forearm excitedly, pointing at the banister and the foot of the stairs, where the two girls were trying to get back on their feet. “I want to do that!”

“Oh, no!” James shook his head. “You’re not doing that.”

She pouted and tilted her head back so she could look into his face, which was framed by a black wig tonight. Something told her she was in the middle of an argument, but suddenly his disguise was a lot more fascinating.

She approached him unsteadily, since the floor was terribly uneven. She wrapped both arms around his neck and breathed, “You look so amazing, you know that? I think you’re insanely hot, but I like you better blonde.”

“Barbara—”

“Shh!” She put a finger to her lips. “Not so loud, James. Show me your hair.”

Without her usual inhibition, she grabbed his wig and nestled against him shamelessly. She barely noticed that he pried her fingers from his wig. Smushed against his chest, she started to giggle like a madwoman.

“You look like Fred Flintstone!”

“I thought that was the idea,” James grumbled.

Barbara didn’t know why she thought this was funny enough to merit another burst of laughter, but she buried her nose in her boyfriend’s costume, which smelled of cheap polyester, and couldn’t stop laughing.

“How many beers did you drink, Barbara?”

She sighed heavily. “Normally I can’t stand beer, but this one was rather tasty.”

“I see.” His fingers curled around the back of her neck. “And how many cups did you have?”

That was a simple enough question, but the room seemed to be spinning. “All of them. Are you mad at me now?”

“No.” James pushed her away a little to look in her face. “Of course I’m not mad.”

She blinked, because he kept moving in front of her eyes. James was moving from side to side without pause. She wrinkled her nose in reproach and pointed an accusing finger. “Why do you keep moving? Could you stand still for a minute, so I can look at you?”

“Oh my.” His voice, which had sounded concerned only a moment ago, sounded amused all of a sudden. “I don’t think you can’t handle your liquor, honey.”

Barbara snorted. “That wasn’t liquor, James. It was just beer.”

When she tried to take a step toward him, bent on discussing the difference between liquor and beer, she stumbled. She felt like she was falling to the floor in slow motion, but then James’s hands were under her arms, preventing her from falling on her face.

“You’re drunk,” he declared with an air of resignation, which Barbara recognized even over the pounding in her ears. “If I ever find out who gave you that beer—”

“James,” she whined, suddenly feeling terribly dizzy. “I need to lie down.”

He didn’t answer, just put an arm around her back and forced their way through the throng of guests. Barbara hardly noticed the crush around her. She tried to focus on getting a relatively clear field of vision, but it didn’t work at all. Her eyes kept closing of their own accord. She stumbled up the stairs with James’s help, and then her legs felt weirdly numb, almost as if she were levitating down the upstairs hallway.

Before she knew what was happening, she could hardly lift her head anymore. But it didn’t matter, because she was miraculously lying on a bed. She squinted to bring James into focus. He was kneeling at the foot of the bed, taking off her shoes. Or rather, the man who was taking off her shoes looked vaguely like James—but more like a guy from a movie based on a comic book.

Something told Barbara there was something wrong here, but since the pillow under her smelled so wonderfully like James, she didn’t mind lying in a strange bed.

“What were you thinking?” the James doppelganger asked in a soft voice, before leaning over her face and mussing up her hair.

Barbara gave him an irritated look and struggled to fix her tired eyes on him. “James?”

His face hovered above hers, still moving from side to side. But the large hand he put on her cheek was still. Barbara didn’t understand why he was holding a large white bone in his other hand.

“I was gone for less than ten minutes, and you managed to get drunker than a sailor on leave.”

“Ahoy,” she mumbled. His hoarse laughter made her squirm with delight. “Mmm. Do it again,” she demanded in a whisper.

“Do what again?”

“Laugh the way you just did.” Barbara let out a yawn so big her jaw made a popping sound. “It sounds beautiful.”

He laughed again as he tousled her hair. “Tomorrow morning you won’t remember a single thing, and I’ll enjoy telling you all the secrets you’re revealing now.”

“That’s not fair,” Barbara whined and scratched at her forehead, her eyes shutting again.

When he didn’t reply, but the mattress started to wobble, she slowly opened her eyes again and watched him tug the duvet from under her and tuck her in.

“What are you doing, James?”

“Wow. You’re slurring your speech worse than my uncle Monty when he’s on a bender.”

Since Barbara was certain she wasn’t slurring anything, and she didn’t know who Uncle Monty was either, she gracefully ignored his last sentence and repeated her question. “Why are you tucking me in?”

“So you won’t get cold while you sleep,” her boyfriend replied. Wasn’t it strange that he had dark hair and was wearing an ugly, orange-colored shirt with black spots?

“But I don’t want to sleep,” she protested indignantly, before yawning again.

The mattress tilted a little, and James scooted up close to her side. Then she felt a heavy hand on her hip. “No need to worry. This is my room, so you’ll be left in peace. You’ll feel much better tomorrow morning.”

“But I feel fine,” she insisted, putting her hand on top of his. “Weren’t we going to a party or something?”

He laughed again, though she didn’t know what was so funny. “I hate so say it, but you’re absolutely adorable when you’re drunk.”

Though his face was spinning, she could see his blue eyes quite clearly. “I’m not drunk!”

“You’re wasted,” he countered, and then leaned forward to kiss her on the lips.

She didn’t want to let go of him, but he sat up and swung his legs off the bed.

“James.” She grabbed his hand and, for some reason, found it perfectly normal to admit, “I want to sleep with you.”

“Now?” he nearly shouted.

Barbara squinted up at him, desperately wishing the room around her would stop whirling like a spinning top. “Yes, now.” She groaned, because her tongue kept sticking to the roof of her mouth. “We’ve been together for two months now, so we have to have sex. Now. Don’t you understand?”

“What?”

“We should have done it weeks ago! Toby didn’t even wait three weeks,” she whispered, sounding horrified.

He leaned over again, stroking her temple. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Barbara, but I’m certainly not sleeping with you when you’re this drunk.”

“But, James,” she burst out excitedly, “I don’t want you to break up with me because I haven’t slept with you and I’m still a virgin! I’d rather we get it over with! Right now!”

She opened her arms in an agitated fashion but soon realized her limbs were too heavy. They immediately slumped back onto the mattress under her.

There was a fog in her head, but she felt James kiss her on the temple and whisper in an amused voice, “Why don’t you sleep it off, and we’ll talk about this tomorrow?”

She wanted to answer, but all she could do was roll onto her side and doze off.

 

 

 

***

 

 

James sat on the edge of the bed for another moment, watching Barbara close her eyes and emit a barely audible snore, and then she was asleep. She looked exhausted and was definitely going to wake up with a terrible hangover. James still couldn’t fathom what had happened in the few minutes he’d left her alone. There were policies about freshmen and alcohol in this frat house.

He actually hadn’t been all that excited about this Halloween party. He wasn’t the type for wild costumes and all that, but since Barbara had loved the idea of showing up at the party in a couple’s costume, he’d put on the silly shirt and even the moronic wig.

Turns out he could have saved himself the effort, since his girlfriend was now lying in his bed drunk as a skunk but looking absolutely adorable despite the horrible red dye in her hair. Not even her soft snores could mar her cuteness.

He leaned over her and carefully pulled the duvet a little higher, making sure she was warm, before switching on the lamp on the nightstand, just in case she woke up and didn’t know where she was. Then he left the room and hung a tie from the doorknob to make sure nobody set foot in there. He went back downstairs, though it was difficult to wedge his way through the throng of intoxicated partygoers. He wanted to have a word with his brothers, to ask who’d had the idiotic idea of supplying his girlfriend with too much alcohol.

When he reached the gigantic keg that had been placed right next to the front door, the two brothers manning it seemed to sense he was coming for them. They both ducked their heads and tried to avoid eye contact. But James wouldn’t let them get away with it that easily.

Gus nodded at him. “Hey, James,” he said cheerfully. “Everything okay with your girlfriend?”

James raised an eyebrow. “How much did she have?”

Both of the other guys looked around, stalling. Finally, Chris confessed, “I think she might have had three cups or so.”

“Three?” He looked at them as if they were speaking Klingon. “That’s almost fifty ounces! A third of a gallon, guys! I was only gone a few minutes!”

“Well … she was thirsty.” Gus giggled, but James didn’t think it was funny.

“Which of you idiots had the stupid idea of giving her so much? She’s totally wasted …”

“We didn’t force her to drink it, dude.”

“Exactly.” Chris raised his cup and grinned. “It’s still a free country, Campbell.”

James wanted to punch something. Instead, he hissed at them, “It’s also a country where you have to be twenty-one to drink alcohol, you assholes!”

“Come on, Campbell.” Chris rolled his eyes. “Your twenty-first birthday is still a week away, and you’ve been drinking for a while. Don’t act like you’re suddenly a member of campus police.”

James knew his Fred Flintstone outfit didn’t exactly exude authority, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about this. “After a nineteen-year-old girl was taken to the hospital from a party at Kappa Omega with alcohol poisoning, the fraternity was shut down. As a result, we all agreed we wouldn’t supply alcohol to people we don’t know—especially not freshmen, goddammit! You were both there when we discussed this!”

Addled as they were by their own consumption, the guys seemed to be having a hard time remembering that their fraternity had actually decided on that precaution to avoid trouble with the university administration. “Listen,” one of them started.

“Everyone here is drinking,” the other interrupted.

James didn’t want to argue with his drunken buddies, so, with a loud snort, he turned around and headed to the kitchen, where he took two bottles of water from the fridge and, seeing the mess all around, swore he would not be on the cleaning squad the next day. After lugging his wasted girlfriend upstairs, he was no longer in the mood for a party. He left the revelers behind and returned to his room, where Barbara was sleeping soundly. He quietly took off his ugly costume and freed his head from the itching wig, until he wore nothing but boxers and a tee. For a brief moment, he pondered getting Barbara to her own room on the other end of campus, but he almost immediately dismissed the thought. He didn’t want to leave her to her own devices in her current state. As far as he could tell, she had never been drunk before. So it was highly likely that she’d wake up to vomit, and though he was anything but eager to witness that, he didn’t want to leave it to anyone else—not even her roommate—to take care of her.

He wanted to ease her hangover, however, so he took two Tylenol and opened one of the water bottles, before gently waking her and getting her to swallow the pills. As soon as she’d managed that, she was asleep again, taking up a large part of the bed.

James lay next to her and smiled wistfully to himself, thinking about how he’d imagined their first night together in one bed differently. Nevertheless, he enjoyed her snuggling up to him in her sleep, resting her head against his shoulder … and drooling on his T-shirt.

He lay there quietly, listening to her breathe and sometimes snore, and thought about how his girlfriend had apparently gotten drunk because she felt she had to sleep with him or he’d break up with her.

James rolled his eyes and tilted his head back, stretching out on the bed and wondering how to get Barbara to understand that he didn’t put that much importance on sex. Of course he wanted to sleep with her, and, to be quite honest, he was always thinking about it, but what was much more important was that she felt comfortable with him, that she trusted him. If she wasn’t ready, he would wait. He was mature enough to see that as a matter of course.

Just when he was about to finally drift off, despite the loud music from the first floor, Barbara suddenly stirred and slowly sat up. “James?”

Hearing her dazed voice, he smiled into the darkness. “Yes, I’m right here.”

“Where’s the bathroom?” she slurred as she swayed next to him. Then, she imparted her secret in a husky whisper. “I’m going to burst at any moment.”

Thus James’s Halloween night ended with escorting his drunken girlfriend, who was still wearing a rumpled Wilma Flintstone costume, down the hallway and then guarding the bathroom door while she peed for nearly five minutes straight.