by Dani Oden
"That's it?"
"Yep," she said, proudly.
"Why are your drinks hitting so hard?" he wondered aloud.
"We probably should have eaten more today," Lindy laughed.
"Oh, totally," I agreed.
"You didn't eat today?" Evan said.
"Not really," I said. "Who eats after finding a hand?"
"Shh," Lindy said, putting a finger to her mouth. "Too loud."
"Sorry," I said.
He eyed Hannah, Lindy, and me before he said, "You guys are taking this well."
"The rum helps," I shrugged.
"How else is there to take it?" his girlfriend asked. "It's the most fucked up thing ever. Ever."
"Ever!" I said, dropping my cup again. Someone with short, tidy fingernails and a nice watch gently picked it up and tossed it into a garbage can a few feet away. "Oh," I said, noticing my empty palm.
"You don't want that," a deep voice with the hint of a southern accent said smoothly into my ear.
Evan clapped a hand on the mystery man's shoulder. "You guys, this sexy beast is my roommate, Tad."
He was just as hot as I remembered, with dark brown hair like bedhead, a smattering of whiskers on his cheeks, and greenish eyes. I was willing to forgive his obvious stubble maintenance for the fact that he wore a polo shirt but didn't pop the collar like the majority of his fraternity brothers. He smelled of soap, toothpaste, and beer, and it was wonderful.
"Dad?" Lindy said, unable to hide her giggle. She self-consciously ran a hand through her loose blond hair, and adjusted her blue silky top.
"Tad," he politely corrected her.
"Dad?"
"Tad," he said, his voice still pleasant.
"Oh, that makes way more sense," she said. "I'm Lindy."
"Nice to meet you," he shook her hand. Shook her hand! What a gentleman. He turned to me, "And, what's your name?"
I stood up a little straighter and pushed my shoulders back, trying to appear sober. "Jill," I said, glad he started with an easy question.
"Jill and Lindy are my dearest friends at Iota Beta," Hannah said, her voice taking an authoritative tone.
"That's great," Tad said, leaning against the wall next to me. Next to me! He must like redheads.
The rest of us fell silent, bobbing our heads to the pulsing hip hop music coming from one of the rooms down the hall.
"Did I interrupt something?" he asked. "Y'all were talking up a storm when I walked up,"
"You wouldn't believe the day we had," Hannah said.
"Hannah!" I gasped. I tried to catch her eye, but she ignored me.
"We can trust him. See," she said, pulling the purple phone out of Lindy's back pocket and scrolling through the pictures. After a few seconds, she handed him the device.
"What is that?" he asked, peering at the tiny screen. I scooted toward him, pretending I needed to see the pictures again.
"A hand. On the floor of the chapter room, with pieces of secret rush plans all around it," she stage whispered.
"Why do you have a picture of that?" he said, grimacing, and handing her back the phone.
"We did it," she told him proudly.
"You did it?" he said in disbelief.
"We found it," Lindy corrected her.
He shook his head. "Is that true?" he asked me.
I folded my arms, "I don't know you well enough to tell you that."
He tilted his head back and laughed, "Well, we'll just have to fix that won't we?"
He meant it, too. Before long, Tad and I were standing off by ourselves on the opposite side of the hallway, leaning against the wall, facing one another. He kept touching my shoulder and my side as we talked, so I kept touching him on the arm. I lost track of time as we covered our first few days of class, the cities we were from, and what we didn’t miss about high school.
“I’m not taking up too much of your night, am I?” he asked at one point.
“Actually, I was enjoying the distraction. It’s been a long day,” I said.
He smiled and nodded, probably not really grasping just how much the pictures on the phone had played a role in that. I decided it didn’t matter. We kept talking, and I learned that he joined his house on a whim, that he'd never had the chicken pox, that he liked country music but no one in his fraternity knew yet, and that he liked football better than soccer, but had lettered in both.
"And where'd 'Tad' come from?" I interjected, enjoying the mental picture of him in a soccer uniform.
"Theodore," he said.
"How does Theodore become Tad? Why not Theo or Ted or Teddy..." I rattled off.
"You just named my great-grandpa, my grandpa and my dad. I'm the fourth."
"Seriously?" I said, thoroughly impressed.
The crowd in the hallway ebbed and flowed. Eventually the spontaneous DJ down the hall lowered the volume on his speakers. I could see my friends yawning and I began to dread the inevitable moment when Lindy would come tell me she was ready to go.
Tad put his hand on my waist, "You’re looking around a lot. Are you trying to tell me you want to leave?"
I could feel his warm skin through my thin shirt. I hadn't had another ounce to drink since we'd started talking, so thankfully my mind had begun to clear up. "I actually don't want to leave, but I think my friend does," I confessed.
"Hannah? She'll stay here all night. She's here most nights."
"No, my other friend."
"Oh, Lily?"
"Lindy," I corrected him. "I don't want her to walk home by herself."
"We can find someone to walk her home, that's not a problem," he said calmly. "It's usually me doing the walking, I don't mind asking someone else this time."
"Someone would do that?"
"Of course, what kind of fraternity do you think this is?"
"I don't know how to answer that."
"It's one where we make sure girls get home safely," he supplied.
"Oh," I said, feeling slightly silly. "That's a thing?"
"It is here. Give me a minute to find someone?"
"Sure," I said. As soon as he was out of my sight, I ran in a straight line toward Lindy and Hannah. They were both exhausted, and I guessed they stopped drinking around the same time I had.
"How's it going with Tad?" Hannah said, rubbing her eyes.
"I think he thinks I might stay here with him," I said.
"Well, will you?"
"I don't know," I fibbed. Of course I knew.
"What's stopping you?" Lindy asked.
"Can I be honest?"
"Obviously," she replied.
"Were you into him?"
She shrugged, playing it off. "Eh. For like, three seconds. But he's clearly more impressed by you."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," she said.
"Good, because he's trying to find someone to walk you home."
Hannah burst out laughing. "He's afraid you're going to cockblock him, Lindy."
"He is?"
"He totally is. I’m going to give him a hard time about that, he could be a little less obvious."
Lindy leaned in close, and Hannah and I put our heads together with hers. "If you both stay here, I'm going to be by myself back at the house," she bit her lip nervously.
My shoulders fell. "No, no, nevermind. I'll come back with you."
"No," Hannah said selflessly, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You stay. A southern gentleman is trying to get you to spend the night. A hot southern gentleman. You stay. I'll go."
"You always stay with Evan," I reminded her.
"So? That was before we figured out we’re the only sane people in the house."
A wave of guilt cascaded down my back like shampoo getting rinsed from my hair. "It's okay, I don't need to..."
Lindy said, "It's okay, Jill. See where it goes. He's really, really cute."
"He is, right? It's not just me?"
"No, he's totally cute. And I've seen like, twenty girls try to go for him that he shot
down. He's picky," Hannah said, pronouncing the last word precisely, offering it to me like a badge of honor.
"I think you should go for it," Lindy said.
Down the hall, Tad reappeared with a tall, freckly guy in tow. The newcomer wore a t-shirt, skinny jeans and skater shoes, and was sliding a hoodie over his head.
"I think he found your escort," I nudged Lindy.
"Should we tell him we don't need him?" she asked Hannah.
"Hell no, that's Davey. You should meet him, you might like him. I haven't met a single asshole in this whole house, odds are good that you could at least make-out with him."
"At least? What kind of girl do you think I am?" Lindy asked.
"One that needs to get her mind off something?" Hannah raised an eyebrow. "I'm not judging, I'm just saying. If there was ever an excuse to do something stupid, we have it now. We can always look back and say we were, like, super distraught."
"We are super distraught. Or, at least we were before we got here," I said.
"Exactly," Hannah said. "At least one of us will get to enjoy it."
"Are you sure?" I asked them both.
"Positive," Hannah said.
I turned to Lindy.
"It's fine," she insisted.
"Is it?"
"Yes," she said simply.
I studied her face as Tad introduced Davey. As far as I could tell, she'd meant it. But even as she and Hannah walked away with Davey trailing after, ready to protect their honor or whatever it was fraternity guys did when they escorted sobered-up sorority girls home, I still felt a twinge of guilt.
Tad and I stood by ourselves outside of his room. "They're not the smoothest when it comes to this kinda stuff, are they?" he commented, staring in the direction they'd gone.
I shook my head. "Nope."
"I guess that's a good thing, right? Means they're not practiced with leaving you in the capable hands of someone you just met."
"Is it that obvious?"
He smiled back. "So, what do you want to do? We could watch a movie, or talk, or...sleep?"
Was this shacking? Was this how it usually went? Was this how it had gone for my sorority sisters who had already done it? Until now, I’d had no clue how girls ended up staying with boys. I always assumed there was some sort of code word or hand signal for this kind of thing but I’d never given him one, at least not on purpose. Was I supposed to have an idea of what I was doing? How far did he expect me to go?
I looked up at him. He had a good six inches on me, with much broader shoulders and way stronger arms. The sleeves of his polo shirt weren't super-tight around his biceps but they did fit snug against them, which seemed just right to me. And his smile was so nice, his face so kind that I couldn’t help but relax. "A movie sounds good," I said.
I was ready to forget all about the hand.
FOURTEEN
Tad and I ducked away from the rest of the group and wound up back in the room he shared with Evan. Their dark couch had a layer of textbooks, empty chip bags, and headphones with dangly wires, and at least a dozen pieces of clothing were scattered across the floor and their desk chairs.
Tad scooped up as much as his arms could carry, and slid it under his bed. He and Evan had bunked their beds, and each had hung a sheet up around their mattress, creating a cozy space that reminded me of the baby-sitter I had in the fourth grade who'd been excellent with forts.
"Are you in the mood for anything in particular?" he asked, running a hand through his hair, messing it up a bit.
I tried to stay calm. "In the mood?"
"For a movie? Anything in particular?"
"Oh, a movie," I remembered I had chosen that only moments before. He waited for a moment before I mustered an answer. "How about a comedy?"
He pulled three discs from his shelf and held them out to me. In true college boy style, they were obviously pirated discs, with handwritten titles in sharpie ink. All of them were new releases from the last year or so based on SNL characters.
"This one," I said, pointing at the middle disc.
"Good choice," he grinned boyishly and slid the others back onto the shelf.
It was at that moment I realized there was no TV in Tad and Evan's room. I scanned the area self-consciously, wondering if I should ask him about it or just go with it.
"Did you forget something?" he asked.
"No, just wondering where your TV is? Or, do we have somewhere else to watch the movie?"
"I've been watching stuff on my laptop. Is that okay?"
"Oh, fine," I said, nodding encouragingly.
"We can sit together on the couch, or...in my cave," he said.
"Your cave?" I coughed.
"The bottom bunk."
"Oh, of course," I said, like I totally had known but had just temporarily forgotten.
"Everyone calls them that. Bottom cave, top cave. We all put up our blankets, too. For privacy."
"Right," I said.
"Is that weird?" he asked.
"What? No, I don't think so. It makes sense."
"It's actually good for studying, too, since it blocks out distractions. And, it helps with the movies."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yep. Keeps the light out so I can see the screen better."
"Sounds good," I said, my voice slightly higher than I was used to.
I stood by as he crawled into his cave, holding his laptop and its power cord. He propped himself up against the wall, positioned the laptop on his lap, and smoothed the covers next to him.
He had a twin bed. I thought kid bedrooms and sororities were the only places that had those, but apparently not.
Before I could lose my nerve, I kicked off my shoes and slid onto his bed, letting my shoulder touch his. Together, we slouched against his one pillow and got comfortable.
He adjusted the hanging fabric so we were enclosed in his tiny bed-fort. The sheet was a soft yellow color, so the light crept in and casted a sunny glow on both of us. As the opening credits rolled onto the screen, he sat upright. "I'm going to get the light. Do you want some sweats?"
I blinked at him. "Sweats?"
"Like, to wear?"
"Oh, sweats," I said, pushing myself upright. "Sure."
"Yeah, hang on," he said, pushing aside the sheet curtain and climbing out of our cave. The backside of his jeans curved nicely under the hem of his polo shirt, and I eyed a strip of his underwear elastic peeking out from the waistband.
He hit the light and rustled around for a few minutes. When he crawled back in, the glare of the laptop revealed he was wearing gray fleece pants, soft like the inside of a brand new sweatshirt, and a zip-up navy blue hoodie. His bare feet protruded from the bottom of his sweats, with little hairs swirling over the top of his toes.
"Here you go," he said, offering me a rolled up pair of black sweats and a hoodie the same navy color as his.
"Thank you," I accepted the bundle. I wondered if I should make a point to leave the cave to change, or to let him see me do it.
I settled for sliding under the covers of his bed and changing out of sight. He politely made conversation with me while I did it ("So, do you think you’ll go home to visit much?") and made it a little less weird for me, which I appreciated. The sheets were already warm from our bodies.
His sweats were about six sizes too big for me, and I felt like I was wearing blankets even after I got out from the sheets. We snuggled back to our original poses with our shoulders and legs touching. Once the credits were over and the movie had officially started, I let my head tilt onto his shoulder and he reached an arm around me.
I was exhausted. By that point, I'd been up for almost twenty-four hours straight. My body interpreted my cozy clothes, Tad's arm, and the warm bed-fort as a sign that I was finally safe, and ready to sleep. We were only ten minutes into the movie when my eyes finally gave up. My head grew heavier and heavier until the next thing I knew, Tad was gently shaking my arm.
"Jill," he whispered, my name sounding so sweet
when he pronounced it.
"Mmph," I answered, burying my face into his shoulder.
"Do you want to go to sleep?"
"I am asleep," I murmured.
"Okay, let's move you," he said, shifting his weight away from the wall. One of his hands went to my back, the other to my head, and he guided me downward until I was completely horizontal, squeezed next to him on his tiny twin bed. I never did open my eyes, but I could tell it was dark all around me. He'd already put away his laptop. Was Evan back in the room? Was he asleep above us?
We must have been facing each other, because I could feel the light puffs of Tad's breath gently blowing rhythmically onto my forehead. His breath smelled minty, which meant he brushed his teeth at some point. Had he left me sleeping alone in his room? He must have. I willed myself to wake up, which was easier for my mind, anticipating his next move, but not for tired eyes, which were unwilling to open.
He tucked some of my stray hairs behind my ear with fingers surprisingly soft for a boy. I let my face follow his hand, nuzzling it like a kitten.
Never before in my life had I nuzzled someone. I tried not to overthink it.
He cupped his hand around my cheek and the old, rickety bed creaked as he lifted his head up and kissed my forehead. He waited, watching for my reaction. I remained still, except for lifting my chin up slightly. He read my willing signal and kissed my mouth.
Did he care that I hadn't brushed my teeth? I hoped not. Within moments, he shared enough of the leftover minty flavor with me that I'm not sure it mattered.
I knew, and I think he did too, that we weren't going to go very far that night. He was kissing me with such enthusiasm though, I don’t think he minded. Or if he did, he hid it well. If I had to rate our experience levels on a scale of one to ten, I would have guessed he was about a seven, and I'd put myself down at around one point five. By the way he moved me around, sliding his hands under and over me, and adjusting me without hesitation, surely he'd had sex before. However, he also seemed borderline giddy just to be making out while fully dressed in his sweats, which made me think he hadn't had very much of it. Me, on the other hand, I'd seen two naked boys in my life. Well, more I suppose, thanks to high school pranking and various dirty movies at sleepovers after parents went to bed. But, if you only count the naked ones who expected me to do something about their nakedness, it was definitely two. One was a fellow camp counselor I snuck off with the summer before junior year, and one was my prom date. Neither incident had been that special, but nothing had gone particularly wrong either.