Jamie looked down the end of the smoking pipe to see her bare feet. Her best friend had run to the bathroom and left the last few toes of her left foot unpainted. Her best friend, Sarah, with the long blonde hair that Jamie would never admit to being jealous of, was her roommate and partner in crime. Together they made the last four years of college the best years of their life.
Sarah entered the room and froze at the doorway. "Smoking all my fucking weed, are we?"
There she was again, with her perfect hair and bright green eyes. Jamie set the pipe down and twirled her fingers in her own hair—silken brunette curls. "Bitch, this is nothing compared to last weekend. Remember the party? Where do you think all the paraphernalia came from?"
"I thought Robert brought it back from Mexico."
"He brought something, but it wasn't worth smoking. Well...come to think of it."
"Oh my God, Jamie. You total slut. You know he got engaged a few days ago. He was probably with her when you two—"
"Railed each other in his parents' bedroom?"
Sarah laughed and walked over to finish painting the last two toes. "You're out of control. What's this weekend gonna be like? Finals are literally two weeks away, then everybody will graduate and be gone."
"I don't know. It might be a dead weekend—Bengal spice tea, flip flops and cigarettes on the balcony. Maybe I'll actually do some studying for once."
"Jamie, you never study. You're GPA is a constant 4.0. You can recite Proust with a hangover. And you talk Latin in your sleep."
"Bitch, what do you know about Proust?"
Sarah showed her teeth and dug her knuckle into Jamie's foot. An open bag of pretzels was nearby and Jamie swung it like a bat, casting them across the room.
"Oh my God," said Sarah. "You have no restraint. What did your parents' teach you?"
"Chaos and order. You see? When I party too much, I need to find a quiet place."
"Just make sure it's not in my room, or in someone else's bed. Okay, Hunnybun?"
"Pinky promise." Jamie curled her freshly painted toe. "I need to go get groceries anyway, and you know that'll take half a lifetime, or all damn night."
* * *
Being a broke college student was not always fun for Jamie. Sure she had her youth, plenty of friends, and what seemed like a guaranteed diploma—but there was still the fear. Fear of the future. Fear of relationships. Fear of life after college.
Jamie was about to enter the grocery store when she spotted something familiar in the parking lot. A sangria-red Mercedes. What a beautiful car.
Inside, she grabbed a cart and started pushing it under the bright lights of the store, trying to remember where she saw it. It was a party. Just recently. The beer was out in a cooler, in the garage. Jamie had gone out to grab one and saw the Mercedes that night.
"Oh crap," Jamie said in a whisper, walking slightly faster now. She remembered. It was Robert's parents' car!
They were probably both here in the store, she thought. But they couldn't know who she was, could they? How would they know who put those dents in the wall above their headboard? Or how many wet spots they had left on the furniture from them screwing.
She remembered what came out of her was white, almost as white as Robert's cum. It was unusual to see because she was usually just very wet. And even if she got her nipples sucked and her neck kissed, which she thoroughly enjoyed, she would just get sticky down there. Never white.
She thought it might be because she had been fucked so good that night. Her pussy was really hammered, her insides churned and pumped. They did it on his parents' bed of course, but also in the master bathroom, bent over the sink with hot water running, and on an oddly placed chair in the corner of the room.
"Oh no," she whispered. "What if it stained?"
Jamie felt something crash into her cart and realized she had forgotten to look up. There, in front of her, was the man from the framed wedding picture. She had seen him in his wedding tux while she was on her knees, working Roberts dick. As she twisted her tongue and wet hand in long strokes, she had studied his parents' room, and now she remembered the face. The guy from the picture was standing in front of her.
"You know," Robert's dad said, "you can't remove stains with tea."
Jamie looked down at her cart and saw the only thing in it. The Bengal spice. When she looked up again, he smirked with powerful, knowing eyes. I'm busted, she thought.
"How stupid do you think we are, Jamie? You think we wouldn't find out about the party at our house? We were both college students, and not that long ago."
Please don't say you have cameras, she thought. Please don't say you have cameras.
"We saw the stains, you know, on the furniture."
Oh no, this is unbelievable, she thought.
"My wife put a lot of work into that living room. Do you know how much that couch cost? We still can't find a glass from our wedding. And I'm pretty sure that was glass we vacuumed out of the carpet." Jamie just stood there before he spoke again. "Your stunned silence isn't helping your case."
Jamie looked away, embarrassed that she had been caught, but relieved that the stain wasn't found in their bedroom. "Right, but it wasn't even my party. It was Robert's idea to invite everyone over."
"We have already dealt with him. He gave up the names of his friends pretty fast when we threatened to take his new car away. Sounds like you invited more than half the party over without running it by Robert."
Jamie felt anger bubbling up inside. "That's because the loser has no friends."
His dad leaned in real close and put his finger in Jamie's face. "Listen here you little bitch. I know you come from a broken home and you're trouble. You're fucking trouble. I won't hesitate to call your parents either. I bet your dad would love to hear all this. I bet you haven't talked to him throughout your whole college career. Have you?"
"How do you know my—my parents?" She looked around, hoping his wife would show up and dissolve this whole thing.
"I know more about you kids than you think. So if you want to avoid that, I strongly suggest you take some initiative and clean up after yourself."
"What are you talking about?" she said.
"You're going to clean the stain off my goddamn couch. Tonight!"
Who was this guy, Jamie thought? He definitely had Robert's Arian genetics—high cheek bones, broad shoulders. But he was bigger and more demanding. Fuck, how embarrassing this whole thing had become.
"Well, I don't have money for cleaning supplies," said Jamie. "I'll have to walk back home and get them from under the sink."
"Normally I might just buy them since we are at the store. But you wouldn't learn your lesson would you?"
"Probably not," she said, smiling a little.
