It was not exactly what she had expected, but it was Florida. That had been one of her top criteria in selecting a school, despite her parent's objections. She had wanted a larger public university, as close to the beach as possible, offering a bunch of degrees so that she could experiment around a bit. Well, instead she got small, private, but close to the beach. And since Florida was out of state, she had settled because they offered her a huge financial aid package. Sometimes you just need to compromise.
Sarah looked around the parking lot, taking in the chaos of moving day, her long blond hair fighting to flow with the breeze coming off the ocean, but restrained by the bun she had put it in to keep out of her gray eyes. Her whole family was here to help her move in, but since one billion freshmen had apparently had that same thought; it now seemed like they got more in each others way then actually helped out. A sigh passed her pouty lips, as she picked up another box, wondering why she had brought so much stuff.
"Let me help you with that." She turned, and had to shield her eyes from the sun as a man detached himself from the crowd, and came towards her. Now here was college hunk material! He was over six feet, with a frame that strained against his tight t-shirt. She could see the muscles ripple in his body as he took the box from her with no problem, looking as if he was waiting for her to stack another on top of it. His own brown hair was what her father would consider excessively long, dancing around his face, his dark eyes twinkling in the sun. Tall, dark, handsome. And it was only her first day! She came back to reality, his voice seemingly talking to her again, "I'm Mike, I'm your first year mentor."
"Ohh." She had received letters and brochures about this program, and her parents had been very happy with it, since they had been concerned that their daughter would be swallowed up whole by the university experience, and spit out a drop out. However, her mentor had never actually gotten in touch with her, as promised by the school. That had caused some parental phone calls, but now that was all forgiven.
She handed him another box in somewhat of a daze, and he wandered off, introducing himself to her parents as he went. She heard her father laugh, and her younger brother scream something in the way that four year olds are want to do. Her mother walked up, fanning herself. "Well...I guess this just might work out well for you."
You could hear the music bumping on the street, the palm trees seemed to even be moving to the groove. It was like something out of a music video to her, beautiful people all dressed up, everybody seemed to have a drink in their hand, everybody enjoying themselves. She followed Mike through the door, down a long hallway, and into an open living room that held standard college furniture, meaning it had been used, abused, spit out, and then come to rest here. However, the stereo and big screen TV were all state of the art. Of course. Bachelor pad. He led her over to what looked to her like a professional DJ station, where a guy she supposed was one of the hosts was working the tunes. Introductions were made, and she noticed the way he tried to look down the white tank top she was wearing. It went well with the dark skirt and sandals, and she was flattered. Earl was at least a junior, like Mike.
"Welcome to the party. Grab a drink, hang out. Meet some people. Welcome to college!" She thanked him, and then followed Mike back into the kitchen, looking around. She had never seen so much alcohol! During her senior year, she had discovered beer, and the fact that she did not like it. Wine coolers were ok, but not really her thing, either. Four kegs were lined up against the back wall, wrapped in trash bags full of ice. Coolers of canned beer were stacked underneath the counter. The sink was full of ice, and held larger bottles of liquors she had only heard other kids talk about, seen on TV, or read about in magazines. Up on shelves above the counter more alcohol was lined up. As Mike opened up the fridge, more came into view. He pulled two cups out, poured himself some concoction, and then turned to her. "What do you want?"
"I don't know. Whatever you are having." She watched him drop ice cubes into the red plastic cup, then splash a dark liquid over it, followed by coke. He grabbed a little stir-straw, stirred it up, and handed her the drink. "What is it?" She took a sip, the familiar flavor of the coke somewhat diluted. "Jack & Coke. No need to go crazy your first time out, testing the water. Your parents might drive down here and shoot me if you get alcohol poisoning your first semester down here. In the future, we'll try light liquors, such as vodka. That is what your goal should be. Most people can drink vodka all night, and not have a hangover." He smiled at her, his arm slowly snaking around her back and pulling her into an almost protective embrace. He did that often, and it always caused a warm feeling to spread through her body. She was not sure if it was the alcohol or him this time, but it always felt good.
"Thanks for taking me out with you." She meant it, as she leaned up against him, watching the crowd in the other room move to the music. She had made friends since coming here, but most of them were freshmen themselves, and so did not have the in's to any cool parties or anything. Many had turned down having a mentor, further reducing the network of chances to go anywhere cool. "No problem, it's what I'm here for." But even amongst those that did have mentors, Mike took the crown. Most were simply academic in nature, and she had heard that they actually got three credit hours for this experience. Some of her friends complained of only seeing their mentor once a week, so he could ask how classes were going, offer a bit of advice, then disappear. Mike was always around, and only phones call away if she ever had a question or needed something. He took her out to dinner, or just hung out. In a way, he had become a big brother to her. She hoped that when she pushed her body against his like this; he could feel that she wanted him to be more.
"Come on, let me introduce you to some more people." He pulled her back into the living room, working the crowd. Another thing he was damn good at. After a while she wandered outside, slowly sipping her drink and contemplating getting another. He was inside, laughing at something with some of his buddies. They were all older, and while most of them had leered at her, she did not get the inside jokes. "Having fun?" It was Earl, relieved of DJ duty, handing her a new cup. He was sipping his own, and she eyed the one he handed her for a second, causing him to laugh. "You want me to take a sip from it to prove that I am not trying to slip you a roofie?" He took it back, and almost had it at his lips when she grabbed his arm. "No, it's ok. Hey, I went to high school in Ohio, and then freshman seminary, they try to make you think every senior guy out there wants to drug, rape, and rob you." She smiled at him, and wrapped her arms around herself against an imaginary cold, which had the effect of pushing her breasts up some. That was the real goal here, and it worked. Instantly the topic went from date-rape drugs to school. He went through the standard college rhythm, where are you from, what is your major, why, how do you like it, does dorm life still suck, yeah that professor is an asshole, chicken finger Wednesday is money in the east cafeteria, are you in any clubs, play any sports, until finally he asked her if she had seen the whole house. That then led to the tour, starting on the back patio they were standing on, down into the basement and the fun room with billiards, beer pong, and table tennis tables, along with two bedrooms and a bathroom. Back up, living room, kitchen, another bathroom, and a master bedroom converted to a DJ/band practice room/recording studio/storage room. The bathroom apparently did not work, and she was warned against using it. Major party foul. Upstairs, another bathroom, another bedroom, and finally Earls room.
