stuck :: hemmings

seventeen.

f r e s h m a n y e a r

The night air welcomed me as I flew out the door and collapsed onto the curb with knees pulled to my chest. I choked back a sob, not able to control the tears that began to well up. The makeup I'd tried so desperately to perfect stung my eyes and ran down my cheeks. I struggled to catch my breath, attempting to make myself smaller when a group of giddy girls in black heeled boots passed me. Only a few looked in my direction, not at all surprised by the sight of a crying freshman outside on a Friday night. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block the image of what I'd just seen from entering my mind.

"Is it really that bad of a party?" I slowly looked up to meet eyes of green and hazel illuminated by a lone streetlamp. The boy had a mop of curly hair and held a six-pack of beer in his right hand. I quickly wiped away makeup from my eyes, resulting in black smudges on the back of my hands.

"Sorry, am I in your way?" I cleared my throat and shifted over, away from the steps.

"Nah, you aren't." He scratched his temple with his free hand. "A crying girl outside just kind of kills the vibes."

I felt my face burn in shame. "I was just about to head back to my dorm."

The boy laughed. "Ah, a freshman. First time out?"

"No," I lied.

"Well, obviously you haven't properly been out if you're in tears outside stonecold sober." He ripped one of the beers from its ring and tossed it at me. I caught it lamely. "What you need is some alcohol."

"Alcohol's a depressant," I stated, instantly regretting the words once they fell from my lips.

"I didn't catch your name. Was it Alcohol Awareness Textbook?" Though I knew he was only joking, the comment hurt. I was making a fool of myself in front of this complete stranger and I needed to get out as fast as possible. I placed the can of beer next to me.

"I think the bus is coming soon, I should really be going." I pressed my hands to the rough concrete in order to push myself up.

"Wait, stay." His voice stopped me. "Calum isn't good at much, but dude can sure throw a hell of a party. I can't have you ruining the reputation of the clout house."

"The what?" I found myself asking.

"Get up freshmeat." The stranger outstretched a hand toward me. I looked at it for a moment, my mother's words ringing in my ears from when she dropped me off at my dorm. Never trust an upperclassman showing you attention. You're young, they'll take advantage of your naivety. Promise me. But this boy didn't seem like he wanted anything from me, nothing sexual at least.

"What are you waiting for? A handwritten invitation?" It was a split-second decision to take his warm hand and allow him to pull me to my feet. I decided I knew people inside and if all else failed I had the pepper spray attached to my keys.

He dropped my hand and silently walked past me to the door. Once it was open, I was welcomed with loud music spilling outside and interrupting the peaceful summer night. I followed him inside hesitantly, once again being immersed in an environment rich in body heat and underage drinking. My eyes scanned the house bathed in blinking multicolored lights but couldn't seem to find a familiar face.

"Come on, let's find our host." The boy said over the pounding bass.

"You know Calum?" I asked carefully. If he knew Calum, it was very possible he knew Nick as well.

"I mean, it's pretty hard not to know the Dean's son," he answered while manoeuvring past a swaying girl with bright red hair. "But I met him in an intro economics course and we hit it off. Do you know him personally? Or are you just one of the many freshman girls drawn to a house party because of your newfound independence?"