Sighing, I swivel away from the mirror, tired of looking at myself. I’m finally able to settle down on my bed to read a book for my freshman English class when the phone finally finally decides to ring. I rush to pick it up hoping it’s Hannah. It is.
“Hey girlfriend, how’s it hanging?” I ask, sending my smile through the phone.
“Hmmm…hanging to the left, but feeling a bit swampy today,” she replies with a laugh. We’ve taken to talking about gross stuff all the time now. It’s disgusting and over the top and yet hilarious. Whoever can out do the other in grossness is clearly superior.
“Kudos….yet gross, Hannah, TMI,” I say. She laughs.
“So…you’d better not have any plans for tonight because you have to come with me.”
“What happened? What’s going on?” I ask.
“Well….I gave my number to a certain guy a few weeks ago and he called and he wants to know if I can hang with him at his brother’s apartment for the game tonight. Who could it be, Victoria? I’ve only been crushing on him for weeks now,” she says.
“You’re shitting me!! Andy called you? You lucky skank, I’m so jealous,” I say with a grin, happy for her.
“Well, you’re coming with me, right? Pleassseeeee, snatch,” she begs and I can almost picture the pleading look on her face.
“Hannah, it’s gonna be so awkward for me to see Jared!” I whine and then follow up with, “Of course I’ll come with you. I want to support you and yeah, I still want to see him, awkwardness and all.”
“You’re the best!! I love you!” she replies, finally getting down to details. “So meet me here at 6:45 tonight?“
“Deal. How could I not want to hang with my main snatch?”
I hang up the phone and suddenly I’m insanely nervous. Oh shit. How can I go to Jared’s apartment with Hannah tonight. Am I crazy? (don’t answer this!) How could I have agreed to go? And then I start thinking about Jared. Sexy bastard. It will be awkward, but I do want to see him again. I can just act aloof, like I don’t care and see how he takes it.
#######################
Hannah and I arrive at Jared’s apartment at 7:15. His place is just off campus, an old house with three apartments. His, apparently, is on the second floor. Hannah knocks on the front door while I stand off to the side, my stomach flip flopping. I’m off the charts nervous after my last encounter with Jared at the frat. In the cold light of day, my running off seems absolutely ridiculous. I shouldn’t have gotten myself into a situation like that, but part of me is glad I didn’t just sleep with him. It might have actually been even more awkward.
So, I’m standing there feeling like I’m about to throw up all over my tight blue, low cut, v-neck sweater that shows plenty of cleavage. I’ve paired this top with a killer pair of tight, ripped jeans and slouchy boots and my long hair is down and I’m wearing my favorite silver jewelry and a tight military-esque grey jacket. I‘ve also got on my favorite silvery eye shadow that brings out the green in my eyes. I know I’m looking good. My skin is clear-ish for once and I feel confident about my outer appearance.
Things inside are a bit different. My stomach is churning, maybe trying to make butter? Who knows? And this despite my repeated threats that I will NOT allow my anxiety to disrupt or destroy my night. I love how damn difficult it is to do the easiest and most normal things. I already spent 15 minutes sitting in my car in A lot before I gathered up the nerve to walk to Hannah’s and start my evening. I kept thinking that once I was with Hannah, there was no turning back, I had to go through with something that makes my heart pound in an unnatural way.
I struggle to stay calm, holding my hands tightly in front of me to stop my muscles from trembling as we wait for Jared or Andy to open the door. Finally there’s a click and the door swings open to reveal Jared and Andy, both in NHU Panthers hooded sweatshirts and backward baseball caps. Jared looks fantastic. Male with swagger. Damn.
“Hello ladies,” says Jared, ushering us inside with a smile, his eyes falling on me, but skittering away as if he doesn’t want to quite look me in the face. Hannah and I follow the boys up the narrow dark staircase and into Jared's small apartment. I take a quick glimpse of his living room. It’s got furniture crammed into every conceivable space, a couch, love seat, papa san chair and an arm chair. There are three people already here who must be friends of theirs, and I start at the sight of a really pretty dark haired girl on the couch. But she’s cozied up to a stocky guy with dark hair and I breathe, they must be together. The smell of pizza and beer is in the air and everyone is gathered around the TV watching the Panthers, drinking beer and cheering as our team makes a great play.
“The pizza just got here, so we should dig in,” says Jared gesturing toward the next room, the kitchen.
“Mmmmm,” Hannah says with a smile grabbing a plate from Andy. I stand back as everyone else files into the room to grab their slices. I’m feeling a bit like the weird third wheel or maybe the 7th wheel, I’m not sure. Jared’s here, but what can I possibly say to him? He’s standing alone too, on the other side of the room and shoots me a tiny look out of the corner of his eye. It’s a kind of questioning look, serious, no grin. I’m not sure what to make of it. Maybe he feels awkward too, like I rejected him or something.
Smells of pepperoni and cheese waft through the air and his kitchen is kind of claustrophobic and small, so of course, suddenly, my nerves kick on overdrive. I’m sober, no alcohol in hand yet. I feel my face begin to flush as Hannah turns around to look at me, pizza in one hand, a beer in the other. Andy is laughing about something with her but she catches my eye for a moment and a worried look crosses her face. Apparently my face must look like something is wrong. I school my features into bored indifference and give her a quick smile. She smiles back and jerks her head in Jared’s direction. I get her drift and finally make my move to get my own pizza.
Jared’s there too, grabbing his slices and the silence between us feels so thick that I want to choke. My stomach feels like a jack-hammer and my mind is suddenly racing. He finally looks over at me and grins, as I grab a piece of pizza and the cheese slides off the top and lands in the box.
“Damn,” I say, just standing there, not sure what to do. “My luck,” I say as Jared jumps to action, handing me a fork.
“Hey, do you want something to drink?” he asks as I scrape cheese off the box and onto my plate.
“Sure, what do you have?” I reply, not looking at him, pretending to focus on the naughty cheese.
“Beer or wine,” he says, holding up a winter brew and pointing to a bottle of red wine.
“Hmmmm…I’ll try the wine,” I say, finally putting my attention on his face. He looks serious, his face and body so utterly perfect that I just want to cry because I walked out. The memory of how his body felt and his kisses and where his hands had been makes me blush and turn away, afraid that it’s obvious what I’m thinking. Jared doesn’t seem to notice, popping the cork from the wine and pulling out a glass from his cabinet. Once I’m supplied with wine and pizza, we silently make our way into the living room.
“I guess introductions are in order, or else I'm a big jerk,” say Andy, grinning broadly.
“Victoria and Hannah, this is Seth,” he says gesturing toward a thin, very lanky guy with light brown hair, glasses and a silly smile. Seth gives Hannah and me a small wave and I nod back with a smile. “And this is Ian and Samantha,” he says as I move my gaze to the beautiful girl with dark skin and a huge white smile and a short stocky guy with black hair and a lopsided grin that reminds me of Jared. “Oh and Ian is our cousin,” says Andy throwing Hannah a smile.
“Nice to meet you all,” Hannah and I say in unison and I’m feeling embarrassed to be the center of attention of this little group of upperclassmen, so I quickly take a seat next to Hannah on the couch. We’re both somewhat younger than everyone else and are quiet as the rest of the group starts talking and laughing.
“The Panthers are gonna win this one, I can just
feel it,” says Ian turning his hat in his large hands.
“Ian is obsessed with the Panthers,” laughs Andy grinning at Hannah and me.
The conversation floats on around me as I discreetly begin to pound my wine so that its calming effects will soon take over my rapidly spinning mind and tightly clenched stomach. I’m starting to focus inside my own head on my thoughts of doom. You should be afraid, you’re going to make a fool of yourself in front of these older kids, and then you’ll be sick and have to use Jared's bathroom. My stomach grips itself into a ball and I break out into a cold sweat. It’s so easy for me to make myself sick. In two seconds flat I can go from sedate calm to belly clenched flu-sick. I imagine the car commercial…’The Victoria model can go from calm to self-induced racing heart and roiling stomach in .06 seconds flat. She’s amazing!’ Faaaccckkk!
I’m trying to eat my pizza but my leg is jiggling under my plate and I can’t seem to hold still. To make matters worse, my glass of wine is almost empty and I feel like I just swallowed a handful of nails or tacks instead of wine and pizza and someone has just taken a hammer to those nails. Oh God, don't let this happen now. I can't deal with this. I can't cope. I try desperately to stop the chain reaction of feelings that are coursing over me. But I can’t control it and my heart beats faster and I quickly drain the rest of my wine. I’m trying very hard to avoid looking over at Jared too, staring dumbly at the TV, focused solely inside my own freakish head. What if I embarrass myself again in front of him? He already thinks I’m weird.
Thing is, it would all be over if I could just get my mind off the fact that this would be a terrible time to do something stupid or to embarrass myself! I look around for the bathroom, afraid that I might have to use it if the sensations get any worse. The door is off the living room and not in a private place at all. And everyone in the room would know if I got sick now. The thought is terrifying. I try to distract myself by discreetly studying the room. It’s a guy’s apartment, no doubt, ‘cause there isn’t an ounce of female style here. The living room features old furniture, a stained coffee table, some kind of hippie wall-hanging with a colorful pattern and sports posters.
But this study doesn’t last long ‘cause I’m unable to pay attention to anything other than how I’m feeling inside. I keep scanning over my body feeling every sensation, dreading every sensation, clenching my hands together in agony as my stomach twists and turns inside me. No one else knows what’s going on. I’m a crazy person losing it in a sea of normalcy and oblivion. I’m terrified of embarrassment. Please, Victoria, I beg, focus on the conversation. I will myself to listen to what Samantha is telling the group about her history professor.
“He's hilarious,” Samantha says, “and older than God! I almost dropped the class because I couldn't stand listening to him mumble on and on about whatever he wants. He doesn't even focus on the material, it's incredibly frustrating and I honestly think he has dementia or something!”
“Is that Herrington?” asks Andy.
“YES!” she says, “You've had him before?”
“Yeah, he's ridiculous! You've got to get him talking about technology! He'll never shut up and keeps rambling on and on about how things were better before, blah blah blah, it's pretty funny,” he says trying to catch Hannah's eye. “What's your major Hannah?” he asks.
“I'm a nursing major,” she says smiling at him. “I've always loved helping people and nursing just seemed like the right fit. Plus I've always been interested in human biology and diseases and I'm not squeamish about blood!” she says laughing. “What's yours?”
“I'm a photography major,” he replies, “with a minor in studio art. I got all the artsy genes in this family, while tough guy over here got all the science and math genes which are probably gonna make him a lot more money! Although photography isn't all that bad if you play your cards right and open your own studio.”
I’m trying to focus my attention on the conversation but it’s really difficult. I keep slipping back into my spinning thoughts, my sick body, my mind blowing crazy mantra. Something bad is going to happen. I am going to literally be sick and everyone will know or I’ll have to leave and will embarrass myself trying to escape! The sheer agonizing panic is taking over now, sensations that wash over my body making me searing hot with embarrassment and discomfort. I need to leave immediately. I begin searching for an easy way out, scanning the small room, the doorway to the outside, trying to come up with some kind of excuse for why I need to leave right now. What’s a good excuse that won’t make me look insane? I feel sick, my mother called and I need to leave, oh God, I can’t come up with anything good! I’ve got nothing…no good excuse and will make a huge fool of myself. Suddenly Jared turns to me, startling me from my thoughts.
“Do you want another glass of wine, Victoria?” he asks. “Come with me while I get you one,” he grabs my hand and sends tremors through my body with his touch. He pulls me up off the couch and manages to get a tiny strained smile from me. I can’t believe he’s speaking to me, but to be distracted at all right now is enough. We make our way into the kitchen where Jared grabs the wine bottle and pours me another glass. “Here,” he says, “are you alright?” he asks, studying my downturned face.
“I'm alright,” I say, trying to mask my discomfort with a wavering smile. My stomach is really hurting me. Don't let me be sick now! I scream inside. Think about other things. You will not embarrass yourself, Victoria! Smile, try to act normal, don’t let him see the truth that you are totally crazy!
“Are you sure?” he asks. “I'm a pretty good people watcher and I can tell that something is bothering you. Besides I’ve had nothing else to do out there, but look over at you and see that you look upset.”
I’m surprised, most people only care about themselves and yet Jared noticed that something was going on with me. I’m not sure what to say. I’ve never felt comfortable telling anyone the truth about my crazy problem because I know instinctively that they won’t understand and will judge me.
“I just don’t feel very good tonight,” I lie (sort of, omission of the truth), holding my stomach with one arm as I sluice the wine down my throat with the other.
“The wine will help, thanks,” I say enigmatically. I can’t believe I’m talking to him and still I have nothing to say! Stupid betch!
“Okay,” he replies, nodding, clearly not entirely satisfied, but willing to take what I am saying at face value. We make our way out into the living room and I take a seat in an arm chair next to the couch while Jared sits with Hannah and Andy. Suddenly I start to feel a bit better. My stomach relaxes and the wine is finally starting to warm me with hazy happy thoughts.
Time passes quickly then as I unwind and finally laugh and talk with Jared and Andy's friends. They are a great group. Samantha is smart with a sharp wit, always making everyone laugh while Seth is hilarious in his own dry way, at first seeming like a strange down and depressed person when really all his dry comments are his way of joking. Ian is a really great guy too, telling Hannah and I stories about Andy and Jared's childhood. I’m so glad that I’m finally able to get outside my head and join in.
A little later, Andy asks if anyone wants to get “altered.” I’m not exactly sure what that entails, but Seth, Ian and Samantha seem like they are definitely down with the idea. I watch with interest as Andy pulls a plastic bag out of his pocket filled with hard dense looking little nubs of a plant substance. Weed, I think, recognizing the drug from several high school parties and a few of my friends who smoke. I’ve never smoked it personally because I’m not entirely sure what happens to you when you do and I’m afraid of losing control. Now, however the idea is somewhat appealing to me, to try something new, to be daring. I watch as Andy pulls out a blue-green swirled glass pipe and a lighter and begins to pack the plant firmly into the bowl.
“Wish we had that old gravity bong from your room,” drawls Seth with a sly grin. “Old faithful,” he says with a laugh.
“Yeah that old nasty
bucket of water and cut off soda bottle is pretty sexy,” says Samantha, grimacing for a moment before she admits the truth. “It works pretty freaking well though,” she laughs. Andy laughs too, looking over at Jared.
“Someone here doesn’t approve of my home-made smoking device,” he says, poking Jared in the ribs with his elbow. Jared frowns and then breaks into a smile.
“Wouldn’t want to hold you back from your illegal drugs baby brother, I know how you need them.”
“Jared doesn’t smoke that much,” says Andy in reply to the silent questions he can see in Hannah and my eyes at their brotherly banter. “He doesn’t ‘approve,’ although that doesn’t always stop him from partaking in the Mary Jane himself,” he says, teasing. Finally he’s finished packing the bowl, lights the moist weed and pulls a long draught into his lungs, holding it there until he starts to cough.
“This stuff is potent shit this time around,” he breathes, handing the pipe to Samantha next as the smoke he releases from his lungs wafts over the room, smelling sweet and earthy.
This is pretty interesting and I’m actually excited that I’m going to get to try. I watch as the pipe circles the room, almost everyone taking a toke. When it finally gets to me, I’m still not sure what to do even though I saw everyone else handle the pipe. I hold it awkwardly, trying to imitate them.
“Ok, I feel really dumb, but I’ve never smoked before,” I finally admit, holding the pipe gingerly between my fingers. Andy laughs.
“Are you sure you want to try?” he asks. “No pressure!” I look around the room, everyone is leaning back now against the couch or chairs, eyes half closed, little smiles playing at their lips and they look so comfortable and peaceful. Seth grins at me, looking hilarious, his eyes barely open.
“It’s awesome…mannnnn…,” he mumbles, giving me a thumbs up, his face looking like a grinning Cheshire cat, the light glinting off his glasses.
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