My Cousin Shows Me Around Campus

Skipper got out of the car and moved the driver's seat forward so Allie could get in the back.

Allie said, "You still driving this thing? When are you going to get a decent car?"

"I'm planning on driving this car until the wheels fall off. Ten years from now, you'll see this car out of the corner of your eye and you'll think, 'Hey! There's Paul!'"

Allie laughed as she climbed into the back. Before we left the parking lot, Allie said, "Your gas light is on."

"I know. The most efficient use of my time is to wait until the gas tank is completely empty before filling it."

"What if there's an accident?"

"We aren't going far, Allie. How many times have I run out of gas since you've known me?"

Allie let out a frustrated sigh before saying to me, "Doesn't it bother you that we're driving with the gas light on?"

I said, "Paul knows if he were to ever run out of gas while I was in the car, I'd tell my sister Lauren and then he'd never hear the end of it."

Skipper replied, "Maybe I should fill up."

We laughed.

As we drove to the party, I thought about Skipper telling me his parents had said he shouldn't take advantage of my crush on him. Why had he told me that? Was he telling me I was forever off limits as far as he was concerned? Or had he been letting me know he had once been interested, hadn't been able to act on his interest then, but could act on any interest now?

We arrived at a large house. "Four guys rent this place," Allie explained. "They have a party about once a month and I've enjoyed their parties in the past."

There were a lot of people at the party. Allie grabbed my arm and led me into the dining area then over to a bar counter. "Let me teach you how to drink tequila shots."

Allie and I proceeded to do shots at the bar counter for the rest of the night. A small group of guys formed around us and Allie flirted shamelessly with them. To my amazement, I joined in some. After a while, whenever a song came on that Allie liked, she and I would sing along at the top of our lungs. I felt like it was the best I had ever sung.

Skipper would walk by now and then, checking in on us. One time, he stopped and asked, "Having a good time, Megan?"

"Having a great time!"

"Drunk yet?"

Allie cut in with, "She's pretty sober. And she's even prettier drunk."

Even prettier drunk. I roared with laughter. I didn't think I had ever heard a funnier joke. Allie laughed along with me. She put her arm around me to help balance us both.

Skipper pulled up a chair while we laughed. When we stopped, I asked Skipper, "What are you drinking?"

"Well, I asked for root beer. But they put it in a square glass so I think it's now just beer."

Allie shook her head in disgust. "You need to learn some new jokes."

"No. You need to be drunker."

That cracked up Allie and me.

Skipper let us laugh some before saying, "I'm the designated driver. I'll be sober when it's time to leave."

Allie went over to Skipper, sat down in his lap while wrapping her arm around his shoulders, and then boldly announced, "Guys! Here's the man I'm going home with! I'll flirt with you all night long, but I'm going home with him!"

Suddenly, I was crazy-jealous. I wanted to grab Allie and rip her out of Skipper's lap. But before I could move, Allie staggered back to the bar counter and said to me, "Ready for another shot?"

* * * *

Allie seemed to know how much alcohol I could handle and she kept me gloriously drunk the whole night. I felt great. I alternated between sitting on a bar stool and standing up. As the evening went on, I had to sit on the bar stool more as I found myself swaying when I stood.

At one, Skipper said it was time to go. When I started toward the front door, I staggered so much that I almost fell.

Skipper said, "Hold on to me. Put your arm on my shoulder and lean on me. We'll walk slowly."

I did as Skipper said and Allie leaned on the other shoulder. We slowly made our way to the front door. People looked at us funny as they got out of our way. It was a little challenging getting through the door, but we were soon out on the street. I had thought we had parked close, but it seemed to take forever to reach the car.

Allie and I both leaned against the car as Skipper opened the car door. "Okay, both of you in the back seat."

Allie said, "Why? I want to sit up with you."

"I don't need either of you faceplanting while trying to get into the passenger seat. Besides, I want you to keep an eye on Megan to warn me if she's going to throw up."

I got into the backseat. Allie shoved me to the far side. I struggled to put on my seat belt. Skipper had to lean over from the front seat to get mine on. Allie put her seat belt behind her.

Once Skipper was driving away, Allie leaned forward and put her arms on Skipper's shoulders. "Thanks, Paul, for tonight. I had a great time. It was just like old times, wasn't it?"

"It was."

Allie ran her fingers through Skipper's hair. "And do you remember what we used to do when we got back to my dorm room? My roommate won't be there tonight."

"I remember. We had a lot of fun after parties."

Allie turned to me and laughed. "One of the things Paul and I used to argue about is 'Can a boyfriend have consensual sex with his girlfriend if she's drunk?'" She turned back to Paul. "Paul always said no, didn't you?"

"That's right."

Allie laughed. "But you always had sex with me."

I said, "The point of an argument is not to win. It's to air the issues. If it was something Skipper argued with you about, it was because he was never comfortable having sex with you when you were drunk."

I couldn't believe I had said that. It was so unlike me to say something that bold.

Allie looked at me in shock for a few moments before turning to Skipper. "Skipper? Did she call you Skipper?"

"She did. It's my family nickname."

Allie laughed a deep, sultry laugh. "Paul, I've really missed going to parties with you. I've really missed you. You were the best boyfriend I've ever had."

"You were a very good girlfriend. We're here."

We were parked at the dorms. Skipper had to unbuckle my seat belt as I couldn't. Slowly, I managed to make it out of the car with Skipper's help. I took one shoulder and Allie took the other. Then, we walked to the dorm. Allie and I didn't speak as we had to fully concentrate on walking. An elevator was open when we walked up and Skipper had to carefully maneuver us through the door.

Once the door closed, Allie threw her arms around Skipper's neck, kissed him, and said, "You could stay the night."

"I have Megan."

"She could stay the night, too. I've seen you making eyes at her. You want to fuck her, don't you? After you fuck me, you can fuck her. It'll be fun watching you make her squeal."

"She's my cousin."

"Doesn't matter." Allie turned her head toward me. "Megan, are you on birth control?"

"Yes."

"Are you a virgin?"

"No."

Allie turned back to Skipper. "See. Doesn't matter. You can fuck her. Fuck me first, then fuck her."

The elevator door opened. Skipper got us out and then we began the long walk to Allie's dorm room. The whole time I was wondering, Is Skipper going to fuck me? Does Skipper want to fuck me? Do I want Skipper to fuck me?

The walk from the elevator had seemed long before, but now it took forever. The whole time, I struggled with what I wanted to have happen when we got to Allie's room. Would Skipper lay me down on one bed, lay Allie down on the other, and then take turns fucking us? The more I thought about it, the more I wanted Skipper to fuck me. As Allie had said, I was on birth control. I wasn't a virgin. What would it matter if it was Skipper who fucked me tonight instead of some other guy I had met at the party?

Allie announced happily, "We're here."

Skipper set me against the wall and then reached into Allie's pocket for her key. Allie kissed Skipper on the cheek as he dug into her shorts. Skipper pulled out the key, unlocked the door, and said to me, "I'll be back for you in a second."

I heard Skipper assist Allie into the room. It was a struggle to keep myself upright. I heard Allie say, "I'm so ready to be fucked." I heard Skipper returning. I heard the door close and felt Skipper scoop me up off of the wall.

"Let's get you home."

* * * *

I either fell asleep or blacked out on the drive back to Skipper's. One second we were in the dorm parking lot and the next Skipper was hauling me out of his car. We moved a lot faster now that he was helping just me. Fortunately, Skipper's apartment was on the first floor. Soon, Skipper was laying me gently down on his bed in his unlit bedroom. He took off my shoes and socks and then took off his shoes and socks.

"Take your bra off," Skipper said before walking away.

I sat up and struggled with my bra. What was going to happen next? Why did he want me to take my bra off and not all of my clothes? Once I had it off, I collapsed back on the bed.

Skipper returned with a plastic trash can and a towel. "You're probably going to throw up in the middle of the night. Throw up into the trash can. Try not to get any of it on your clothes. I'll clean up the mess."

Skipper emptied his pockets and then climbed into bed with me. He put me so I was facing him with my head on his shoulder. I was on the side of the bed next to the trash can. He wrapped his arms around me. "Remember - as soon as you feel like you're going to throw up, turn and put your head in the trash can behind you."

"Skipper, I love you."

"I love you too, Megan."

"I want to make love with you."

"Hush, Megan. Don't be silly - we're cousins."

"But I love you..."

"Megan, stop. Go to sleep. Don't you enjoy cuddling like this? I enjoy cuddling like this. Enjoy it and go to sleep."

I fell asleep.

* * * *

I woke up suddenly. I looked up at the bedroom walls. They were moving, slowly spinning. I felt strong hands grab me and soon my head was over the trash can. My stomach was gripped by a powerful squeeze. I felt vomit coursing up my esophagus. I opened my mouth and spewed. And spewed. And spewed. It felt like a giant hand kept crushing my stomach, pushing its contents up my throat. I kept spewing and spewing. Eventually, my stomach hurt from all of the contractions. The amount of vomit was decreasing, but the convulsions didn't stop. After a while, I was throwing up just a trickle of fluid, which was more painful than a full spew.

Finally, the throwing up stopped.

Skipper sat me up and got out of bed. He wiped a towel over my face. "You didn't get any on your clothes. Good." He moved me into a comfortable lying position. "Megan, go to sleep. It's the only cure for a hangover. I'll clean everything up."

I closed my eyes. I heard Skipper leave the room and close the door.

Soon, I was back asleep.

* * * *

Light was streaming into the bedroom - painful light. Not a lot of it and it wasn't bright but it hurt my eyes like I was staring into the sun.

My head throbbed. It was the worst headache I had ever had.

I sat up. The world wobbled around me. I decided against trying to stand up.

"Skipper?" I called out.

I heard a chair skid across a wooden floor. The door opened, and Skipper was in front of me, smiling. "Good morning. Except it's not so good for you. I'll get you some food and water."

Skipper left and soon returned with a cup of water and a few slices of white bread. "Eat and drink this slowly. Your stomach had a rough night."

I slowly alternated between the two. I couldn't finish either. "I'm done."

"Okay. Go back to sleep, Megan. It's the best thing for you."

"Can we talk for a little bit before I go back to sleep?"

"Sure. Let me pull up a chair."

I lay back down. Skipper rolled his chair from his desk next to the bed. I took his hand and held it. It felt good in mine.

I said, "Allie wants to date you again. Are you going to date her?"

"Let me explain that when I dated Allie, her favorite thing was evenings like last night where we'd go to a party and she'd get wasted."

"And then you'd go home and have sex."

"Yes. She loved having sex while drunk. And she loved getting drunk when she knew someone was watching over her, making sure she was safe. I know her other boyfriends and all of them wanted to get drunk with her. I was the only one who wanted to stay mostly sober while she was getting blitzed. But nights like last night were my least favorite part of our relationship. I didn't enjoy cleaning up vomit every week. I tried to convince her to do something else besides a party with drinking. Then I tried making excuses for not going. The difference in how much we enjoyed parties was what broke us up."

"If I hadn't been there last night, would you have had sex with Allie?"

"I don't have sex with someone who I'm not dating."

"Allie was more than ready to start dating again. If I hadn't been there, would you have had sex with Allie?"

Skipper was quiet for a long time before saying, "Yes. It's been weeks since I've had sex. Allie is horny as hell when she's drunk. I would have taken advantage of the situation." He sighed. "Then I would have tried to make the relationship work again. Allie's not the one for me, but she's a good girlfriend. We'd break up eventually, but we'd have lots of fun in the meantime."

"When she asked you last night to have sex with her, why didn't you tell her no?"

Skipper smiled, "Because when she's drunk and horny, she doesn't take no for an answer."

I was quiet for a while. I wanted to ask why Skipper hadn't told Allie no when she suggested he fuck me after he fucked her. I wanted to ask him if he had meant it when he told me last night he loved me. I wanted to ask him why he had refused me. But I didn't have the courage.

Skipper squeezed my hand, stood up, and said, "Sleep. In a few hours, I'll have you eat again."

I drifted off to sleep.

* * * *

I was awakened by a tapping on the door. Skipper strode in, saying, "Lunchtime! I brought you a banana to go along with the bread and water." Skipper sat down in the chair and handed me a slice of bread. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Bad, but not awful." Skipper nodded. "I'm sorry I'm not up to doing anything with you today. I'd really like to."

"It's okay. I have a paper due tomorrow, and I need to spend today finishing it."

I shook my head. "I should have asked you on the phone if you needed to study this weekend before making the drive."

Skipper said soothingly, "I knew how much studying I had to do when I agreed to show you around. It's going to work out fine." He told me about his paper as I ate. It sounded interesting to me.

I asked, "Do you like Economics?"

"I love it. The biggest drawback is that it's a field of study where you need a PhD to get a good job. I've started looking at grad schools."

"Will you go to grad school here?"

"No," said Skipper firmly. "I'm planning on going to a higher-ranked grad school than the one here. Probably a school in the Northeast."

I took my time eating. My stomach was still sore. Skipper struck the right balance between caring for me and not overly mothering me.

As I was finishing, Skipper said, "If you feel up to it, you can come lie out on the couch. I won't be able to talk to you. Or you can continue sleeping here."

"I'll sleep here some more."

"Okay. It's one now. In three hours, let's go out for an early dinner. I'll take you to my favorite place. We'll split something. And hopefully by after dinner, you'll feel up to making the big drive home."

Skipper took the plate and cup and then left me to sleep.

* * * *

This time, I drifted in and out of sleep. I thought about what I had learned yesterday and today. I thought about how much I enjoyed being with Skipper and how well he looked after me. He had set me up to talk with people and then got out of the way. When I had said I wanted to get drunk at a college party, he had arranged to make it happen even though I'm sure he thought it was a bad idea. Or maybe he thought it was best for me to get drunk when he could make sure that I did it safely. He didn't talk down to me like Lauren did. I thought about whether I'd be happy living in the dorms. And what it would take to keep me from drifting like I had the last two years.

At four, Skipper tapped on the door and came in. "Would you like to take a shower before we go out to dinner?"

"No. I think I'd rather eat, shower, then go home. I want to be as fresh as possible for the drive."

Skipper took me to a little hole-in-the-wall Italian place. He told me his three favorite dishes and I selected one - tortellini in a garlic clam sauce. I was feeling much better, close to normal.

After we ordered, I said, "Is it me or are the waiters here very gay?"

"When I got to a restaurant, I want my beer cold, my food hot and my waiters flaming."

I cracked up. Skipper was such a funny guy.

Eventually, we started arguing. "Free speech is a major issue at colleges right now," Skipper said as he ate. "But I don't think any college is addressing the issue that needs to be addressed."

"Which is?"

"Too many people coming on campus to say previously debunked talking points - Holocaust deniers, anti-vaxxers, and climate change denialists. By allowing those people to speak on campus, the university is actually making its students less informed. I think the university needs to come up with a list of accepted truths - scientific facts or historical events that we know are true. No one who isn't willing to agree to those accepted truths would be allowed to speak on campus. Now, they'd still have their First Amendment rights - they could stand across the street from the university and say whatever they wanted. But the university would no longer offer them a stage from which to spew their bullshit."

I ate one of my tortellinis as I thought over what Skipper had said. The food was delicious but my stomach still wasn't up to eating much of it. I was more interested in tearing into Skipper's argument than in tearing into dinner. "Who's going to determine what are the accepted truths?"

"A lot of the accepted truths will be obvious. Like smoking causes cancer."

"Nothing is obvious." I finally felt like things were clicking in my brain. "There are no truths that everyone miraculously accepts just like there are no prophecies that come out of nowhere that everyone accepts."

Skipper looked uncomfortable as he thought of a reply. Had he not thought this idea through? Was it too radical for him to have discussed with anyone else? After several seconds he said, "There'd be a committee of professors. They'd communicate with professors at other colleges to come up with a list of truths that are the consensus of the scientific and historical communities."

"Who'd decide which professors get to be on the committee? Wouldn't the only professors who'd want to be on the committee be the ones who felt strongly about a 'truth' that wasn't generally accepted?"

Skipper thought for a second before saying, "The university would have to approve their joining the committee."

The effects of the alcohol were gone. The effects of drifting for the last two years were gone. I was thinking as clearly as I had ever had. "Couldn't student groups harass the professors into announcing as accepted truths things that haven't been fully accepted?"

I could see Skipper was thinking hard, considering ramifications he hadn't thought of before. I was doing the same. It gave me such a feeling of exhilaration.

"Student groups today pressure the university to disinvite speakers. This approach would be a better, more formal way of determining which speakers aren't appropriate to have on campus."

"There's a huge difference between the university saying it's unsafe for a person to speak on campus and the university saying a person is a spewer of debunked bullshit."