College Chronicles Ep. 18 Pt. 02

Then it was my turn to need to pee, so I gave the guy my finsta (he wasn't hot, per se, but he was so easy to talk to!) and grabbed Natalie to come with me. She was still being passive-aggressive, giving me the silent treatment at that point. But I kept babbling on about nothing, knowing it would piss her off even more. Fuck her. Nat had been getting on my nerves since she first dismissed my outfit. I'd let her decide my change and do my makeup, she couldn't be mad if I looked so good I got all the attention! She'd been trying to keep me under her thumb since then. I was going to have my own night, I didn't need a babysitter. She was jealous, that was obvious. The question was did she want the attention I was getting, or did she want my attention?

Squatting over a toilet in a grungy stall, trying to not make contact, I heard Natalie speaking with someone she seemed to know. When I stepped out, I found her in familiar conversation with a tall girl wearing her short black hair in a sort-of-pompadour with a fade to her neck. Below she wore baggy cargo pants, and a white wife-beater under a rugged denim jacket. Between the hair and the clothes, she had presented fairly masculine, supported by her slouching posture, total lack of makeup, and the fact that any jewelery was aggressive, spiky piercings in her eyebrows, lips, nose, and ears. Nat introduced me while I washed my hands.

"Eva this is my friend Sami. Sami, Eva."

The look Eva gave me in the mirror reminded me of the looks boys shot me when they thought I couldn't see. It was the same look that I'd seen a lion in a zoo give, once. A parent had dressed up their toddler in a meerkat costume, and set them against the pane of glass, facing away for a picture. A female lion had made a laser stare of interest, with slow, sneaking approach towards the glass— it was exactly the same vibe as Eva. Her eyes moved slowly, checking me out without a hint of concern that I could see her doing so.

"Hey."

"Hii..."

I trailed off a little, intimidated by her intensity. She was actually really hot, in a scary way. I didn't know whether to be flattered or worried.

"You know..."

She'd totally abandoned conversation with Nat, and when I turned away from the mirror she was in my space, forcing unconscious steps backward that she mirrored, until I bumped into a wall. She stopped, but just a little too close.

"My apartment's at the top of a hill on 42nd... it has a fire escape to the roof. It's a really pretty view up there. Almost as pretty as you."

"Oh... Uhm... Thanks, I..."

I had no idea how to respond to her compliment; was she inviting me over? Did she want me to go with her right then and there? She barely gave me seconds to think before she pushed harder.

"Ever get head so good you black out?"

I didn't know how to respond to that aside from my usual glowing red blush of embarrassmen; the words said come-on or maybe a joke, but her tone and her dark expression made it more of a threat. I'd been prepared for aggressive sexual comments from boys, but I didn't know if I could handle someone like Eva.

"Uhmmm—"

"—Ev stoppp, you're scaring her!"

Eva laughed at herself, Natalie's protest, and my expression, before she leaned forward. I flinched, but she was just giving me a kiss on the cheek, which turned into a hot whisper into my ear.

"When you get tired of straight boys, just call your friendly neighborhood dyke."

I shivered as she stepped away, and her smile promised all sorts of naughty things as she backed out of the bathroom.

"Bye Nat. Bye-bye, Sami..."

I needed a minute after that, turning back to the mirror too check my makeup again as I processed what had just happened. Natalie came up behind me, smiling gently as I touched up non-existent blemishes.

"Ev's great, she's just... You know... A lesbian..."

I rolled my eyes, and things were back to normal. Natalie's conservativism towards the sexual spectrum revved my frustration, which in turn reminded me of Gemma and Dawn, which reminded me of the party we were at, that I was fucking ruling. None of it was going to get in my way to have a great time. And why was I even letting Eva be a bad thing? She was hot, and interesting. And I was pretty sure I could trust her when she promised head that would change my life. So what if I wasn't exactly what she'd be expecting? I had a feeling she'd know what to do with me, if I let her in on my secret. So I almost skipped out of the bathroom, with a perplexed Natalie trailing behind. She probably expected me to be shaken by Eva's aggressive approach— but I had moved on.

The party went on like that. I wandered where I wanted, how I wanted, and was swarmed by boys no matter where I ended up. They competed over me, argued over me, and even fought over me (when two particularly drunk boys started pushing and shoving for the opportunity to sit at my side). It was great— I absolutely loved the attention, felt miles away from timid, unimportant Sam. I didn't even mind when the boys got a little too overhyped, their rambunctious energy jostling me or impeding my personal space; I had experience with Jaxx, and compared to him all those boys were puppy dogs.

My girlfriends continued in their established ways too. Natalie was my unasked for shadow, on my heel with a sometimes judgemental, sometimes mothering, always smotheringly protective attention. She told off boys who played too rough or got too handsy; they were loud interventions that effectively ended the fun, whatever it was. If she couldn't find a reason to yell at the boys, she instead focused on me, giving loud disapproving sighs and grabbing my hand with slightly too tight grip to yank me off a couch or a bed and on to some different location.

The worst time was when were in a very dark room, and I had been particularly cozy with a cute dark-haired boy. There werent enough seats for everyone, so I had settled on his lap, and was pretending I didn't notice his growing erection while I bantered with him over my shoulder. But Natalie had pulled me away and whispered harshly in my ear.

"Sami, what are you doing?! He can't find out you're a... boy!"

She said it with loaded emphasis, the same way you would utter a blasphemy, and it cut me to the core. I hated how she said it, what she said; that she had reminded me and that it was true as much as I wanted it not to be. So I paused for a second, then ignored her, pulling her hand and running to the next stop, pretending to be unaffected but really locking it deep down and throwing away the key.

Gemma and Dawn kept being themselves too, tagging along in the most annoying ways possible. One guy was telling me about his parent's beach house on the Jersey Shore (punk, right?) when Dawn barged into the conversation face first, asking if she could stay over and ending his attempt to lure me on a weekend away. Gemma took some cues from Nat as a buzzkill, stepping on the toes of flirtation by making thing too real, too serious. I couldn't help but let out an awkwardly stifled laugh when she blindsided an excitedly jabbering boy by accusing him of mansplaining college sports to me (he kind of was, but I didn't mind since he was cute and excited). The interruption killed his confidence, so I gave him my Snap and sent him away before he could ruin a good first impression.

Not all of the boys were worshipful. At one point, I ran straight into a large stomach posted up to block my path. When I raised my attention, I found a guy slightly taller than me looking down his nose through thick glasses.

"Okay, what's your favorite Slayer album?"

"Uhmmm..."

He spoke with such incredible condescension, such a total change of tone from all my other interactions in the night. I was speechless, but not with fear, just total confusion.

"I'll make it EASIER for you, casual. What's your favorite Slayer song??"

He waved a hand at my chest, and I finally realized he was gesturing to the t-shirt Natalie had loaned me, the tiny black extremely cropped top. Brain finally catching up, I stumbled, looking for a song and finding nothing. I'd never listened to Slayer. But then I felt anger rising; how dare he talk to me like that? Who the fuck did he think he was, being such a fucking hater? What had I done to him?

"Even easier, name A Slayer song..."

He crossed his arms, leaned back with a smug look, tapping one foot in mock impatience. But as he waited, I was able to stop and think. Not about Slayer; fuck that. I was able to think about me and him, the natural order of things. I saw him for the first time; big and overweight, with a baggy stained hoodie and oversized jeans. He was someone I might have been afraid of as Sam, one of those guys who used his weight and his loud personality as clubs to intimidate the weak.

But I was Sami. I wasn't weak, I was strong, and had my own weapons. The schlub before me wasn't even in my universe, much less my league. The only reason he could talk to me like that was because I was letting him. The only reason he could talk to me at all was because I was giving him my attention. He was nothing, a nobody. He deserved absolutely nothing from me. So I gave him nothing more than a little wrinkled mouth, sidestepped and flipped my hair, walking past like he hadn't even spoke. I didn't even look back to see his expression. Another boy intercepted me moments later with a clumsy pickup line, and I giggled like the hater had never even been there.

Despite... IN spite of obstacles, I was having an absolute blast, high on attention, so crossfaded I was in another reality. I acted like a child, like nothing mattered— and it didn't! Better, I was the life of the party! I gave my Finsta, Snap, or TikTok out to any guys that asked. I even gave them to a few that didn't ask; especially cute guys, or just those who happened to be staring at me at the right moment. I loved their expressions of befuddlement when I walked up to them with purpose, yanked the phone from their hand and entered my info; so helpless and blessed, afraid to speak in case they ruined it. It was kind of slutty, but that was the whole point!

As happens with a late night of hard drinking and smoking, my consciousness and memory started getting a little patchy, realizing I was in new rooms and situations without remembering how I'd gotten there. That was how I 'woke up' into what was supposed to be our last stop of the night.

*

I just suddenly was in a dingy top-floor room (with slanted ceiling that looked like roof). I was sitting on a faded beige couch, either built short or so old it had sunk into itself, leaving me a few inches from the floor, awkwardly low so everyone's feet were kind of splayed out. On an equally aged loveseat across from me, Natalie sat with her infatuation of the night, glorious Marcus.

Despite good intentions, my first impression was hard to shake. He was still wearing the clothes he'd performed in, and I couldn't help think about how sweat-logged and gross they must be— I could smell B.O. and stale beer, though that could have been his room itself. His skull seemed uneven, too bumpy in the wrong places to be bald. When I'd said he had a twisted face, I didn't mean deformed or maimed or anything. There was just something off about it, and it was worse in person; the way his lip curled, the uneven scars on his cheeks, his eyes darting around that seemed to look through me instead of at me.

Natalie was basically in his lap, leaning onto him, looking like the silly tipsy bitch she'd been chastising me for being all night. It was obvious they'd fucked before; her hand resting too close to his crotch and his hand doing god knows what under her skirt made me think they were doing something right then! Nat had really sunk to a new low, fawning over his every word, laughing ridiculously at his slightest comments, just really overdoing it. But no one else seemed to notice.

Dawn and Gemma were still with us, flanking me on the couch. Past Gem, arrayed on unsteady plastic chairs, were three other boys. They were very average, with an assortment of jeans, tshirts, and basic piercings making them an indistinct group; Ben and Skip were some names I associated but I couldn't tell you who was who. They may have been members of the band? I wasn't sure and couldn't ask if they'd already been introduced, obviously. At that point, the one furthest away was going on and on about something Joe Rogan had said on a podcast.

"...You know, people don't think about it that way because people's minds are closed! But if you can learn to control your emotions and see if things from both sides, you realize that the mass media is ALWAYS lying to you! Have you seen that video..."

I tuned him back out, taking a second to think. The boy immediately next to him looked too high, or deeply uncomfortable. I knew he hadn't looked at me once, had grimaced as we entered, and greeted only Gemma when she sat down. He still had on his grimace, and was staring into the stained rug at his feet as he held a still smoking bong.

My eyes kept scanning, and when I caught the last boy, closest to Gem, staring directly at me, I expected him to look away, or at least flinch and show some contrition. But he was almost the exact opposite of his friend, far too comfortable staring straight at me. Just then he was ogling my chest, watching my abs like there was a chance I'd lift my arms and have a wardrobe malfunction.

Natalie had thrown her legs across Marcus' lap, and he was buried deep in her neck, openly licking. Her hair had fallen across her face, and his hand was still lost up her skirt. It was gross, and too awkward to interrupt. I was left on my own, surrounded by people. Dawn was really drunk, too drunk to carry on an interesting conversation, just listening intently to the talkative boy drone on about the illuminati globalists. Gemma was humoring him too for some reason, and she didn't even seem that drunk.

Then Natalie squealed and nearly fell off Marcus' lap, as he barked a loud raspy laugh and pushed her the rest of the way to fall onto the couch, her skirt pulling up to expose lacey black panties.

"Marcus, stoppp!"

"Fuckin' bitch..."

He leaned forward, swiped a beer can off the table before him and guzzled it down like he'd never had a drink before. When he finished, he paused then let out a disgusting burp that made me look away to keep my stomach controlled. While I wasn't looking at him, his attention swung my way.

"So Sami..."

I brought my eyes down from a far wall to find him looking at me with a pathetic little attempt at a self-assured smirk (compared to Jaxx? Please). Natalie had repositioned herself, both legs tucked underneath her and one arm in Marcus' lap, rubbing his thigh.

"...What'd you think of our set?"

Oh god, not the right thing to ask me. I stammered and stumbled a bit, but managed a lie that wasn't totally unconvincing.

"Uhm... I—It was... Cool..."

He continued, ignoring or oblivious to my tempered praise.

"Yeah... We're gonna be the next big thing. My uncle is a record exec, he says if we can play another show or two he'll start signing us for festivals."

"Marcus, you didn't tell me that! Congratulations!"

"Oh my god you're totally gonna be stars!"

"That's so cool!"

Dawn, Gemma, and most noticeably Nat absolutely couldn't keep it in their pants at his reveal, all verbally drooling over the proclaimed success. But I didn't get it— it was all possibility, nothing guaranteed. He was just another wanna-be rock star with an family member who might be able to help him get on stage. I really couldn't imagine a world where 'Skullfucker' was headlining a festival. But I couldn't say any of that, just rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, pretty soon I'll have to drop out to tour. Or maybe I'll defer or some shit."

He reached out, and his friends passed over the bong. He took a deep hit, and exhaled his smoke up and into the center of the room obnoxiously. I tried to hold my breath it wafted my way; I didn't want anything that had been in his body. Nat stroked his chest so fondly I almost threw up, but when he started speaking again his eyes were still on me.

"We're gonna get a big R.V., tour the whole country... Gonna need some groupies, too, keep us wet on the road, if you know what I mean..."

Everyone roared with laughter, even the girls and Natalie. I didn't it wasn't even a joke! There was nothing to laugh at! But there I was the hater, the only one who didn't see the humor. He paused, leaning over to Natalie's neck again, whispering or kissing or worse. I rolled my eyes, disgusted with everyone. How could Natalie be so charmed by him? He was like Jaxx, if everything appealing about Jaxx... wasn't.

"Whaddya think?"

I paused for a second, confused if he was talking to me or not. But no one else answered, so I assumed so.

"...About..."

I couldn't hide an edge of my contempt. What the fuck was he talking about? And why was he talking to me like that? With that smugness that only Jaxx really deserved? How could Natalie even stand the guy?

"You're pretty hot. Wanna be our groupie?"

He dropped the question like a hammer, and I felt myself go a little red. I knew what negging was; I wasn't pretty hot, I was fucking smoking hot. I also knew what groupies were, what they were for. As much as I had grown, I still hadn't developed a defense for when men unexpectedly swung the conversation dirty, although prolonged exposure to Jaxx had turned my blush and stammer from debilitating to momentary.

"Oh... uhmmm..."

"Come on, be a slutty little groupie with me!"

Nat piped up in a girlish, high whine, and I almost double took while looking right at her, confused by the sounds her mouth had made. It wasn't the Nat I knew.

"Oh my... Nat!"

"She's head bitch, obviously. But we'll need some more girls to keep the band warm..."

He was speaking authoritatively, as if he wasn't making up some sort of hierarchy and system on the spot, for an imaginary harem of groupies for his imaginary rock star road trip. He was so fucking gross; I'd only recently learned what 'the ick' was, but Marcus WAS it.

"Mmmmm that's sooo fucking hott!"

Natalie was starting to give me the ick too.

"Yeah it is... You know what...?"

He cocked an eyebrow, looked to his less confident friends with a dangerously sly smile.

"...Let's do some auditions right now."

Something about how he spoke sounded an alarm in my head, but I didn't panic. It wasn't like when Jaxx was up to something. He had a way of precluding all escapes, made me feel like a rat trapped in a burning building. Marcus and his friends were no Jaxx— I felt confident in my ability to make my own solutions. That confidence was a blessing, because what happened next would have shattered me without it.

Marcus stood up and dropped his jeans to reveal a slightly larger than average cock. I was stunned by the sudden movement, the brashness of his actions. I expected Nat to feel the same way, to lash out with her barbed tongue and castrate such an aggressively sexual approach. But I guess she really liked Marcus, or maybe Jaxx had broken her spirit. Either way, she cheered in pleasure as Marcus revealed himself and dove onto his crotch, even letting him put a hand on the back of her head as if to hold her down.

There was movement to my left, and I looked over to find Gemma getting hot and heavy with the boy who had been staring at me. He was basically on top of her, hands exploring her chest wildly, to the extent that my first thought was 'that can't be comfortable.' But Gemma didn't seem to mind, devouring his face while he groped and fondled her back. Next to him, the boy who couldn't make eye contact was full-on staring at Natalie as she gave Marcus loud, sloppy head. There was a strange intensity to his look, and I noticed his hand moving over his jeans, stroking himself but not brave enough to get it out.