Amelia was the one who invited me to the party; the party that pivoted the way I looked at my life. I mean, from then on I've pretty much segmented the history of me in my own head into things that happened in my life before that party and things that happened after, because it changed my perspective so much about people and sexuality. A loss of innocence, I suppose. Which wasn't entirely a bad thing.
The party was on a Saturday night in Baton Rouge at the house of a high schooler named Mary Sue Bradford--the house of her out-of-town parents, I should clarify. I didn't even want to go, having just broken up with Renice that week--my first girlfriend ever--but Amelia insisted. That breakup sucked for me because it came out of the blue. With guys in high school there was some warning--either that, or I was the one to initiate the break up--so I knew what was coming. I was a perceptive girl, at least I thought, and it surprised me and saddened me that I had read the situation so wrong with Renice.
Why did it hit me so hard? Being a first year student at LSU it was my chance to try something new, which in my case was to do something I'd wanted to try for a while: explore a relationship with a girl. And a black southern girl at that, which I'll admit had an exotic appeal I suppose for a suburban white girl from the country's heartland. So I threw myself into it and actually fell in love with this girl. At least I thought. Everything seemed so cool--I loved spending time together and we were starting to fool around, even, which was new for me, to do that with a girl, I mean.
Then she ghosted me for the whole weekend and it wasn't until I showed up at her dorm room mid-week and ambushed her face-to-face that I got any kind of resolution. Not that what she said was very satisfying. I still wonder if it was something with her friends, if I didn't fit in and embarrassed her, or if it was simply physical--that I didn't have the kind of classic curvy figure that she wanted--but I'll probably never know. She didn't have the guts to tell me honestly, and that sucked.
Anyway, the only reason Renice matters to this story is that it put me in a funk that whole week. I was really down about myself, about going to college, my prospects, my classes, everything. At Mary Sue's party with Amelia's always-optimistic urging I gave it a half-assed effort to try to mix in and have some fun, and there was a brief spark with a guy named Arjun who was pretty cute.
I thought he and I were going to flirt--and maybe even fool around that night at the party or perhaps that he would take me away somewhere after. They were playing the game where the guy and girl go into the pantry by themselves and close the door and I let myself imagine what that was going to be like, how to get a kiss and sneak a feel under his shirt. It looked like he worked out a lot and I love the muscles on shoulders and pecs in particular. So things were looking up.
But then this girl with big tits sits down in between us at the table and starts gushing and giggling like a stupid slut--laying her hands all over him and laughing way too hard at his jokes--and of course the fucker goes absolutely apeshit gaga over her and he asks her to the pantry when his turn comes up.
Okay, I shouldn't call him a fucker. That's unfair. He's a guy and allowed to do what he wants and fuck whoever he wants. Guys have needs too and if this guy wanted a silly, big-titted girl to be an imbecile for him then he had that right, without me putting him down as a human being. But I was so tired of being the girl left out--the one the guys would talk to but not want to have a relationship with or even get down and dirty with. I don't have the ass and sure as hell don't have the tits but I do have sexual needs and it sucked not being able to make a connection.
There were some other cute guys I'd seen at the party but I wasn't having luck making progress with them, either. The guy playing the bartender in the kitchen was a handsome jock type of guy, from one of LSU frats, Amelia said, and then there was a younger guy named Jake who caught my attention. Beautiful sweet face and he had the pecs I wanted and a body that killed it; also he looked like a nice guy. I didn't even know who he was until a girl told me he was Mary Sue's boyfriend, which was another suckage for me.
That was it, and I was going to leave because I had enough with this striking out with the boys. And Renice had killed my interest in girls for the moment. But for some reason I lingered to watch this game that was starting in the main room. An energetic girl lined up all the guys and I took a long look at all of them. That cute guy was there at the end of the line! And looking nervous, too. Mary Sue walked away from him and it didn't seem that their last interaction had been friendly, so I was drawn to him right then in a long-shot chance. Something in me knew it might be wrong, but I figured getting to know him couldn't hurt. So I stepped up.
"Are you going to play the game?" I asked him.
He seemed surprised at my interest, looking like a lost puppy after Mary Sue left him. He stared at me, silent, thinking.
"The game," I said again, pointing up to the whole line of guys who were bending over to disrobe. I raised my eyebrows in an attempt to flirt. "Are you gonna take off your pants?"
"Oh," he said, confused. "I don't want to play. But I'm supposed to."
"Mary Sue's your girlfriend, right? The girl whose house this is?"
"Yes."
"Why'd she leave you here?"
"I don't know. She told me I had to play the game."
I was puzzled at the way he phrased this. Like she was the boss of him.
"Well, look, I don't know what that means, but I'd like it if you played." I smiled encouragement and leaned in to add, "I think you're good looking--I would enjoy watching. Do you think she'd mind?"
We both looked up at the rest of the guys. Jake was the only one of the whole bunch of them who hadn't stripped down to his undies. Nobody except me seemed to have noticed, though, especially since he was at the end of the line and trying to disappear into the hallway with his tail between his legs.
"No, she won't mind. She'll get mad if I don't play."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"But look. She's up there."
"I know. But we, uh... it's complicated." I didn't know what to make of that. "We had a fight." That was easier to understand.
"You're Jack, right?"
"Jake."
