by Devin Sawyer
“I need a glass of wine,” she declares upon setting her bag on her bed. “Let’s go have some Italian food and order a drink.” I could go for a study break and some food that doesn’t come from the cafeteria.
“Yeah, that sounds amazing actually.”
I get out of bed and throw on some jeans and an oversized sweater and spruce up my hair that’s been in a top knot since I got home from class. I leave my reading glasses on because I just don’t want to put my contacts back in and grab my purse. Cher has shrugged off her lab coat and is wearing a fitted but modest bodycon that hugs her curves appropriately. I don’t know how she gets up and dresses so cute for class each day. I just don’t have that kind of motivation.
We drive just around the block to the nearest Italian place and we sit in a small corner. We haven’t even been here five minutes when two guys and a girl approach our table, recognizing Cher.
“Hey Cher. Are you coming to the party at Michael’s after this? We’re heading there now,” the girl with curly brown hair in the group says, and I assume Michael is a classmate of theirs.
“Hey Paula, Jason, Marcus. This is my roommate, Farah.”
Marcus sits in the open chair next to me. “Hey Mama, she been hiding you away from me?”
Marcus looks like he is Dominican. Dark skin, and dark hooded eyes, but a soft Spanish accent. I smile at him. You can tell he’s the kind of guy who’s never met a stranger.
“No hiding here,” I reply.
“Come out then. Michael’s having a small get-together.”
I don’t know how I feel about this and I don’t know who Michael is. I was only planning on taking a small break before getting back to studying.
“Lie low, Marcus, dang! Give the girl some room to breathe,” Cher pipes in. “We were in the middle of having dinner. I’ll consider heading to Michael’s though.”
“Alright, bring this one too,” Marcus says, throwing a thumb out toward me.
“Alright Marcus. We get it!”
They wave goodbye and are out the door. Cher and I both take a large swig of our wine and grab for the breadsticks we hadn’t yet dug into.
“So that’s Marcus.” Cher laughs. “We don’t have to go. I only said that so they wouldn’t hassle us about it.”
“How do you know them?” I ask her.
“Paula and Marcus are both pre-med with me. Jason is Paula’s boyfriend. I think he’s a business major or something boring.”
“Oh, they seem nice.”
“Yeah, they are pretty cool.”
I think for a moment. “We could go if you want. I mean, maybe just for a little while.” I do need to meet people, so I figure now is as good of time as any and they seemed nice enough. A big smile crosses Cher’s face.
“Yeah, okay. We can swing by after dinner.”
After I finish my manicotti and glass of wine, which I happened to spill a drop of on my sweater, we head out to see Cher’s friends from school. On the ride over, I gnaw my lip as I become increasingly nervous about the way that I look. I wasn’t planning to go out and I have my glasses on and red wine spilled on my sweater.
“You look fine,” Cher says, reading my mind. “More than fine. It’s just a bunch of pre-med students and they love that sexy nerdy shit you’re rocking with those glasses and top knot. Just cover the stain with your hair and you’ll be fine.”
I laugh with Cher about the ridiculousness of it all and relax a little as we park along a street not far from the school. On the walk up to the front door, I notice quite a few cars parked along the street and wonder if the small get together that Marcus mentioned was a severe understatement. As we approach the door, I can hear music thumping lowly inside and we enter to find people scattered about the house. A handful are hanging out in the kitchen where a keg sits, and more are in a large living room. Some appear to be playing some kind of game around the coffee table. I spot Marcus over by the sliding door that leads outside and can see more people littered out in the back yard. I point over toward him to Cher, not seeing the point in yelling over the music and she pulls me by my hand to him.
When we get to him, he immediately puts his arm around me, resting it on my shoulder, like it’s no big deal.
“Y’all showed,” he says it with a surprised look on his face.
“Yeah for a little while. I thought you said it was a small gathering,” Cher replies.
“And you believed us? Michael doesn’t do anything small. He’d fit half the school in here if he could.”
Cher just shakes her head at him. The party is larger than any other I’ve been to back home. Not that I attended a whole lot of them but frequented a few with my ex, Ryan. I feel a little overstimulated with the loud music, cramped spaces, and strong stench of alcohol and smoke filtering through the house. Nelly’s “Country Grammar” blares through an expensive surround sound system and I again am left wondering how a college student has such a nice place and things.
“Want to dance, mama?” Marcus asks, gesturing to the few people in the middle of the room grinding to the beat of the song. I allow myself to take them in, clearly enjoying themselves, lost in the music and touch of each other. Their hands roam each other’s bodies and the men grind themselves into the women. I feel like I’m watching that scene in Dirty Dancing where Baby is just standing there, mouth open, holding a watermelon.
“I don’t think I’ve had enough to drink just yet,” I let him know. I’m not sure there’s enough liquor in all of Columbia to get me dancing with someone like those people were. I’m reminded of dancing with Grant and Lawson a few weeks back, but it was tame in comparison to the show that was going on in front of us.
“Oh damn, do you want a drink? There’s a keg in the kitchen or there’s a pink panty dropper mix.”
It never fails. Every college party has the same toxic pink drink in a punch bowl with the stench of Everclear and pink lemonade.
“Yeah sure, why not. Cher, do you want anything?” I ask her. She’s lost in conversation with one of the other girls in the group.
“Huh? Oh yeah, sure. I’ll take one. Whatever you’re having.”
I walk with Marcus to the kitchen and he proceeds to keep his arm draped around me as we walk. I don’t mind so much.
“Hey Michael,” Marcus shouts over me and it startles me a bit.
I follow his eyes across the kitchen to where the keg stands. A familiar slender and preppy-looking guy in khakis and a button-up shirt, waves back, but I barely notice anything more as Marcus pulls me over to where he is standing right next to Lawson. What is he doing here? And why does he have to be everywhere I go?
“Hey man. I haven’t seen you since you started your internship. You aren’t on campus anymore,” Marcus says to the guy I’ve now identified as Michael and I attempt to smile over at him as a friendly greeting, but I can feel Lawson’s eyes following me since Marcus made our presence known.
“Yeah, I have a few classes but spend a lot of time at the hospital. I think I know you,” he says, redirecting his attention to me.
“Yeah, I’m Farah. We have hospital administration together.”
“You’re pre-med?” he queries further.
“No, I’m pre-law actually. I just got stuck in that elective, but it hasn’t been so bad.”
“This here is Lawson,” he says, pointing to him standing right next to him
“Hel—” I start before Lawson interrupts.
“We’ve met,” he declares.
“Yeah. Lawson helped me sign up for my classes as a student advisor. He’s the one that couldn’t manage to find me a more suitable class than hospital administration.”
“Well I guess that’s our luck then,” Michael says.
“Oh, come on. I signed you up for classes? You’re underplaying our friendship here, Farah. You see guys, Farah and I share the same birthday and we celebrated together a few weeks back…” he says it with a hint of… well, I don’t know what, but it sounds worse than it was, and it ma
kes my skin crawl. “And then just last weekend we went on a date,” he finishes.
My face screws into a look of disgust. Why would he tell them this? He never called it a date last week, he just wanted to get to know me. I feel Marcus’ arm drop from my shoulder and the awkward tension surrounding us.
“That’s weird. You never mentioned it was a date last week. You said you wanted to hang out, get to know each other. Ya know, like friends,” I say with probably a bit too much bite to my tone. Marcus and Michael both take a drink of their beers and watch us silently.
Lawson ignores this, like I haven’t even spoken. “Actually, I’ve been looking for you all week. I’ve been wanting to give you something.”
Looking for me, my ass, he could have found me if he wanted to.
“Can I get a drink?” I turn to Marcus. It’s my turn to ignore Lawson now.
“Oh shit, yeah.” He turns around to the island in the middle of the kitchen and scoops some of the pink drink into a red Solo cup before handing it to me.
“Let’s grab one for Cher too.” Marcus pours another cup. I turn back to face Lawson and Michael.
“It was good finally getting to meet you, Michael. I’ll see you in class this week.”
I grab Marcus by his elbow and lightly tug him away, back toward the group we were with earlier and back to Cher.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” I apologize to Marcus, embarrassed by the interaction he just had to witness. I leave my hand resting on his arm where I had tugged him away. I haven’t known Marcus long enough to know if I like him, but I know I don’t like that the second Lawson made those comments he dropped the game we had been playing.
“So, you used to date Lawson or some shit?” he asks, calm and unaffected.
“No, not at all. I’m not sure why he said that. Lawson doesn’t date anyone since that Veronica girl. We just, we do have the same birthday, so we went to the bar that one time, and then hung out once. I barely know him.”
“Yeah, that was weird,” he agrees, but I can tell he wants to ask more questions, but doesn’t once we arrive back to the group and he hands Cher her drink. I sip on my own, knowing it’s going to be strong.
We stay at the party for a while longer than I originally expected, but I’m having a good time. I’ve met some more of Cher’s classmates and I like hanging out with them, especially since I’m hoping it will lead to more of a circle of friends that I can lean on while I’m here in South Carolina. Most of them have gone to school here since their freshman year and have already formed their groups. It’s hard as an outsider transferring in.
I’m listening to one of the girls I just met, Lara, talk about her environmental production project which includes managing the school’s farm center off-campus where she grows all the ingredients she needs to make beer and I’m astounded that a student can get away with something like that. College really is the coolest and strangest place on earth. We are all making jokes about how the ingredients and finished product “mysteriously” go missing. I feel a light brush up against me and I assume that Marcus has made his way back over toward me but when I look over, it’s Lawson I see crowding my space.
“Why’d you rush off a minute ago?” he whispers cluelessly to me, not wanting to talk over Cher telling a story to the group, but it doesn’t deter the others from inconspicuously sneaking glances our way. This is why I can’t deal with Lawson, anytime he is around all the attention focuses on him, and by proxy, me.
“I didn’t like what you were insinuating. You made it sound like you and I were a thing and now Marcus has backed off.”
“Good, you don’t need a guy like Marcus,” he says it nonchalantly. I’m completely flabbergasted that he has the nerve to tell me what he thinks I need in a man. He doesn’t even freaking know me.
“Look, Lawson, I don’t want this to come off rudely, because you do have your moments. I just don’t have the patience for someone like you. I’m sure you mean well, you just can’t help who you are, and I don’t have the energy to deal with someone that comes with all his high society baggage. I don’t want to deal with the women hanging all over you, and the schmoozing. I’m here to really learn how to practice law and I hate the political side of it.”
He looks offended when I’ve finished and it’s not the reaction I expected from him. Lawson rarely looks anything but completely composed and in control of his emotions.
“Sorry,” I say as if it’s some novelty. He scoffs and I just want to leave the room, or at least have him leave so I can listen to the rest of Cher’s story and go on with my night.
“I don’t think a woman has ever said that I come with baggage before.”
“Yes, well many women won’t see it as baggage, they will see you as the full package, and I hope that you don’t fall for the ones that can’t see past the power and dollar signs.”
He stares ahead, eyes blank and I return my own attention to Cher, tucking my hands in my coat pockets. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him toss his drink back, draining it of his usual gin and tonic, leaving nothing but ice. He looks bitter and angry now. I attempt to ignore him and hope that the others who keep glaring our way will eventually realize there is nothing to see and give up.
Within seconds I feel Lawson’s hand on mine, reaching into my coat pocket with a piece of soft fabric.
“What are…” I look over to him startled as he removes his hand.
“You left those,” is all he says, and I pull out what he just tucked into my side pocket.
My own mortification washes over me as I quickly realize it’s the small lace thong I had tucked in the sweatpants I had worn at his house the previous week. I rush to stuff them back in my jacket pocket and feel my face warm with the flush of embarrassment. I look around to see who might be looking at us and catch a few pairs of eyes observing us around the group, not even bothering to listen to Cher and Marcus banter in the circle. My eyes swell with tears on the verge and I know what they just saw and what it looks like. I know it will be only hours before one or many of them tell others and it’s all over campus. Any other guy and this wouldn’t be news, but the political “it” boys that run our campus make headlines wherever they go.
I rush for the door, almost sprinting outside, needing fresh air, needing to not be in front of people when the tears break free, needing to be as far away from Lawson as possible. The cool night air hits me and I run toward Cher’s car. He’s always been infuriating and lacked boundaries and respect for others, but I chalked it up to his upbringing, his inevitable future, and the weight of carrying that. But this was too far, he blatantly made it look like I was a dirty one-night stand.
“Farah.” I hear him call my name. I want him to go back inside.
“Leave me alone, Lawson,” I warn.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen like that.” He rushes closer to me and when he’s within arm’s reach, I completely snap.
“I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE.” I push him square in the chest as I scream at him. I’ve never hit anyone before. I didn’t exactly slap the guy, but I shoved him pretty hard, knocking him back a few steps. I take a few deep breaths, trying to regulate my emotions and my actions.
“Farah. I swear. I was just going to slip them into your pocket. I didn’t think you would pull them out, you left them in the pockets of my sweatpants.”
He’s made a point. Damn lawyers always have an argument to be made.
“You couldn’t have given them to me somewhere more private any other time this week?” I push for a better answer.
“We weren’t ever alone. I didn’t figure you wanted me to hand them over in the quad, or while you were with Finn. I’ve been trying to find you all week and I haven’t seen you much. I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”
“I was avoiding you… wait, you’ve been carrying my underwear around with you all week?” Well, that’s not weird.
“If it makes it less weird, I washed them in a load of laundry at my house. Why ar
e you avoiding me?”
“For the same reasons I explained inside. I don’t want to engage with you, Lawson. I don’t want to compete with other women or be laughed at by them when I’m feeling desperate for your attention. I don’t want to feel fucking desperate for your attention at all!” I recall the stupid girl that scoffed at me earlier this week when I approached Lawson’s posse.
“Bekah is stupid. She only laughed at you to get under your skin. She sees you as competition. She sees everyone as competition.”
“That’s fine. She’s allowed to be a snarky bitch. I’m just going to remove myself from the equation since those things only happen to me when I’m near you. Please, just don’t talk to me anymore. I want to focus on school, and I want to enjoy my friends outside of everything you touch.”
“What if… what if I could make it stop?”
God, I’m tired of talking about this. I just want to go back to my dorm and go to bed.
“How would you do that, Lawson? You can’t control this Bekah girl, and you certainly can’t give up the lifestyle you’ve made. I can see that you have an expectation you are held to. I understand why you do it. I just don’t want to be part of it.”
“I could date you.” He blurts it like he wants to get it out of his mouth before he can take it back. It’s my turn to laugh at him now. A disbelieving scoff comes from me and I just stare at him in horror.
“No,” I reply. “Just, no.”
“Why not? It would work. The girls never bothered Veronica. It’s only because they feel like there’s a position to be filled.”
“They may not have bothered her, but I’m sure that didn’t stop them from still being up your ass. Plus, you don’t want that. You don’t want a relationship.”
“Don’t tell me what I want, Farah.” For the first time, he sounds irritated with me, or maybe just this conversation.
“I don’t need you to do me any favors,” I tell him bluntly.