Erase and Rewind (Full Book)

Chapter Six: Freshman

He towel-dried, slipping into a pair of boxer shorts while his mind tried to push back images of the enigmatic Jude. He looked like a soft boy, but his long, elegant limbs and powerful body were a surprise. Malik had a type; tough boys. The kind he met at the gym. But most of them were straight, in denial, or a snooze fest. Jude was slimmer than what he liked, but his features were an intoxicating blend of sharp masculinity and inviting dulcet lips. Malik wondered what they would taste like.

It was unnerving to be attracted to someone right off the bat. The fact that Malik didn't know his sexual orientation or his involvement in Mena's death seemed to have skipped town.

His phone was blinking a dot of red, signaling a new message.

It was from Liz.

Hey. There is a party tonight, and it might be fun or super boring. In?

Malik smiled. It had been less than a week since classes started, and there were already a dozen parties gearing up. He could use a distraction.

Yeah. Location?

***

The house party was tame by the time Malik arrived. Liz waved at him, and Malik weaved through the freshman attendees, some of them familiar from the classes they shared.

Liz had gone through a makeover since church. She wore a tank top with shiny straps crisscrossing the small of her back, and her hair was piled high in a glossy ponytail. Her freckles she'd left uncovered as they complimented her cherry lips.

"Hey, you," she said.

He gave her a peck on the cheek. "Hey."

"Malik, this is Jennifer"—Liz pointed to a curvy blonde—"Jenni, Kyla, and Ginger."

The girls smiled and said hello. Ginger, who had black hair streaked with red, was resolute on winning a staring contest with a plastic cup.

If Malik had thought his high school had been packed, Victoria City's homebody was limitless. It came with its pros. College had its cliques, same as high school. However, they were more relaxed because college had more options. In high school, once you missed your chance getting in with the cool kids, be it the jocks and cheerleaders, or whiz nerds who knew the easter eggs scattered in the Marvel movies, you'd be left to fend for yourself until graduation. Here, Malik weaved between different cliques, or rather groups, undecided about where he fitted in.

It was a fun ride.

"Drink?" Malik said.

Liz nodded, her ponytail bobbing." And snacks."

The kitchen was chaotic. There were paper cups safe in their cellophane. The rest of them and some of the snacks were swimming in a small pool of peach punch. Near the counter, David was busy feeling up a tiny Asian girl who stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

A skinhead Malik never met before approached him. "Hey, man."

There were bits of chips swimming in a bowl of punch. "Hey."

"How much for a roll?"

Malik had been trying to quit. "I don't have a pack on me."

"You got coke?"

Malik rolled his eyes, certain he wasn't talking about the soda variety. "I don't deal."

The skinhead scratched his cheek. "Know who does?"

Malik looked around. The party was predominately white. It was disappointing to see he had been singled out as a drug dealer. At the first concert he attended, he was frisked quite often for the same reasons.