Party Girl

I managed to dress and get back to the apartment that day. But for the first time I wondered if I was doing the right thing, putting my body on the line like that, not to mention on-line. Usually I just breezed in and out and it was sort of enjoyable to mix it up with the girls like that. It was exciting but, more than that, it paid well. Call me stupid but I knew I wasn't going to find a job that paid like that anywhere else. Anyway, it was another learning experience. And for me the last two years had been about learning who I was and how to live on my own.

As we settled into our apartment and started classes, I learned a lot more about my roommate. I learned enough to know I'd better refrain from divulging the details of my life. We seemed to be separated by more than the two-year difference in our ages, a lot more. Lorlie convinced me she'd enrolled just to be near her boyfriend who'd gotten into Pepperdine, and that her goal was not necessarily a degree in marketing, as she'd declared, but one in marketing herself to her alleged fiancé, Trevor.

Once she asked if I was seeing anyone, saying she'd never seen me with anybody or even talking about seeing anybody. I said no, I had no time for that 'cause I was too busy with school and working to keep myself in school. That seemed to keep her quiet on that topic, though I know she stayed curious about my private life like it was some big secret, which it was. But instead she would go on and on about Trevor, how prestigious his family was, how he hadn't been spoiled by that, and how many kids they were going to have after he finished law school. She even had some names picked out, names like Courtney and Britney, names that might just as well have been glibby and smuggy.

Despite seeing Trevor two or three times a week, I'd never met the boy and didn't really care to. I did, however, become acquainted with him one day. I had an art appreciation class in MacLeod Auditorium. It was a humanities elective, so it drew a large crowd of freshman non-majors. One day I recognized him from the picture, Loralie's Trevor, sitting there talking to another guy before class. I hadn't noticed till then but it turned out Trevor and I were in the same class, academically, not socially of course. I decided to use my anonymity to find out what was so special about this guy, so I sat down in the row just behind them. They didn't notice me, and kept on talking.

"So what's up with the entertainment for Tiki Island?" said the other guy.

"Oh I don't know," said Trevor. "I'm still wrapping my head around that one."

"About a dozen strippers would be nice. Yeah, that's it! We could put up a net and play volleyball with 'em."

"Strippers," Trevor said, cocking his head, "at a frat party?" "Gee, that's a novel idea, bro."

"So, what's your idea?"

"Haven't got one, but I'll let you know when I do."

"Blondes," said the sidekick, "big blondes – know what I mean?" "Like the one you're seeing."

"She's not that big."

"Then what's the point, man?"

"She's just a kid I'm babysitting until I can put the tag on her."

"You haven't yet?"

"Nope; I dated her a couple times in high school and she fell hard and had to follow me here. Now it's just a matter of time before we hear that big, juicy popping sound and I leave her to guys like you for seconds."

"Sure, Trev, we know. She's been telling everybody you two are goin' nuptial."

"Let her talk – it keeps other guys from sniffing what's rightfully mine."

"So it isn't serious?"

"No, bro. Like I said, I'll be in and out of her soon and movin' on to the next bimbo virgin on the list."

"And who's that?"

The professor step onto the stage. Trevor tried to hold his laughter in and replied, "Your sister."

I could've just forgotten that conversation and nobody would've known I'd been there. Instead I wrestled with the notion of being obligated to tell Loralie what I'd heard, that she was being taken advantage of, that her Trevor was just another talking butt who just wanted to do her rather than have anything to do with her. I hated guys like that, and that must've been what made me tell her.

"Loralie, I need to tell you something," I said when I got back to the apartment that afternoon. In a cutoff top and pink panties, Loralie was lying on her stomach on her bed watching a moving.

"What?" she barked as her back arced and that posh bottom of hers perked up. OK, so I looked. "What's that you're watching?" I asked, thinking about how Loralie was about to go through the roof.

"Oh, the movie? It's Party Girl. I just love it. Have you seen it?"

"Yeah," I admitted. I like how she changes so much, from being so naïve and dependent to—

"Oh I don't get any of that stuff. I just like the guy in it, you know the one."

"— finding her inner strength and taking charge of her life," I continued. "OK," I said, sitting down on the edge of the other bed.

"What the matter?"

"I saw Trevor today."

"Oh," said Loralie, popping up to a sitting position on her bed. "You finally met."

"Not exactly, you see he's in my art appreciation class. I didn't realize it till today, there's so many people in that class. But I overheard him talking with another guy, I think from his fraternity. OK, you know, he was telling the guy how he was just playing you, and that all he wanted was sex and then he was going to dump you."

"That couldn't have been Trevor," said Loralie. "You've never seen him so you obviously mistook someone for him."

"I don't think so," I said. "Hasn't he ever mentioned he's in art appreciation in MacLeod Auditorium on Tuesday afternoons?"

"Well, yeah, I think so. But that doesn't mean anything. Like you said, lots of people are in there."

"Loralie, I'm sure it was him. I'm sure of it. He's just using you."

"No, you're wrong. Why are you doing this? You're just jealous. I knew there was a reason you never went out. I thought you were a lesbian, but maybe you just wanted to date Trevor!"

"That's not true. No way. I'm just trying to do you a favor 'cause you're my roommate. I'm trying to keep you from getting hurt."

So, like the old saying, my good deed was punished, and that wasn't the end of it either. Loralie wouldn't speak to me after that. She hated me, I guess, and I was just going to have to get used to it. And that was going to make my career as a student even more difficult than it already was. Days later I got to the point where I didn't think I could take it anymore.

Then came my next art appreciation class – and Trevor. I sat down, far away from where I'd eavesdropped on him the week before, and tried not to look for him as waves of students entered the auditorium and sat down.

I listened, scribbled more notes than usual, and quickly left the building after the lecture. Then down the steps I went, hurrying off to the security of the apartment. But security might've been the wrong word for it 'cause I'd lit my roommate's fuse, I was stuck with her, and there was no telling what she was going to do next. I walked on, anxiously dodging backpacks and bikes, stupidly thinking that any one of them might suddenly reach out and grab me – someone hired by Loralie, or Trevor, to smack me around for daring to come between the two of them. But then I realized Trevor had never met me, so how could he know what I looked like?

I'd put two blocks and most of the student body behind me and I was in the clear, crossing a row of athletic fields that were empty except for soccer goals and an odd little garden in the middle of them. I usually crossed the fields by walking through the garden which was small but beautifully arranged with a gardener's shed in the center. One time I'd rested on a bench and just soaked up all the color and fragrance before walking on. That was a rare peace apart from the hectic rush my life had become.

The empty expanse of grass around me seemed to assure that I'd soon be back at the apartment. And the soothing fragrance of lavender enveloped me as I reached the garden and stepped briskly onto the flat stone path that ran through it. The bench was tempting me, but I walked on. The path split around the wooden shed and rejoined on the other side. I always took to the right 'cause I thought most people would take the left.

I was almost past the shed, marveling at a cluster of delicately blended pink and orange roses, when something touched my arm. Suddenly I my body was jerked around and pushed against the back wall of the shed. The bright-blue sky beyond was obscured by two heads. I recognized both. It was Trevor and his frat mate, the one who'd been with him the day I'd overheard them in class. They were holding my arms tight against the shed.

"Where you going," Trevor said, straining to hold my arm against the wall. I was so stunned I couldn't put my thoughts into words. "So what's your problem," he said in quiet but angry voice.

"What are you talking about?" I sputtered.

"You know what I'm talking about, you little dyke." Trevor didn't take his eyes off me as he asked the other guy, "Well, bro?"

"It's her; Rosa Thorne." I guessed Loralie had given them a picture of me or pointed me out to them. But it was worse than that. They knew my stage name. And, if Trevor had bad intentions toward Loralie, his own girlfriend, I could imagine what he had for me.

He cracked a smile, but he wasn't joking. "So," he said, "a real frigging porn star!"

"You're crazy," I told him. "Let me go, or I'll scream." I started pushing against their arms but Trevor and his 'bro' pushed back, hard. I thought of kicking their crotches, but waited.

"I thought you liked to wrestle."

"Let me go now or I'm calling the police."

"And what're you going tell them? That you're a porn queen?" They both laughed. "That you wrestle naked for a living?"

"You don't know what you're talking about, and you better let me go now unless you're ready for the consequences."

Trevor continued: "Consequences? You're the one who's fantasizing. But then, that's what you do best, isn't it."

"Give it up, I'm not your girl."

"You sure of that?" he asked.

They other guy added, "We can find out easy enough," as he looked down my halter top.
"How's that?" said Trevor.

"She's got a tatty on her titty."

"A tattoo?" Trevor looked into my eyes and gave me another wry smile. "Really? Let's see."

I swallowed hard. "Let me go, I'm telling you. You're crossing the line."

I got that hollow feeling in my stomach, the one when you realize something really bad is coming. But I used my mounting anxiety to push hard against them with both arms. And still they held me and pushed me back against the shed. I was used to being shoved around by opponents, you know, but then they'd always let go. These guys weren't letting go, and that sinking feeling hit me.

Trevor gave the nod. The guy grabbed the neck of my top. It was one of those you didn't need to wear a bra with, the only one I had, and I remember hoping he wouldn't rip it. Stupid. It was breathing fast and wanted to close my eyes but didn't. Then he pulled it down on the side where the strap had slipped off, and my boob just jumped out and quivered.

I tried to look past them, across the field but it was as empty as before. The sky was still bright-blue and the sun still burning hot but I got goose bumps right then. The guy hesitated and mumbled something about it being the wrong one. Trevor stood there obviously getting off on my exposed breast.

The jerk pulled on the other side but it wouldn't go down 'cause of the strap. So he pulled the strap off my shoulder and tried again. His hand raked across my nipple and the other one breast bounced out and my nipples started to feel like lead weights. I wanted to fight but for some reason I just couldn't, maybe because they'd just discovered the peach-colored rose on my breast.

"OK," said Trevor, "Now we know who you are, and what you are."

I wanted to spit in his face but he was so pathetic with his sharp cheekbones, cleft chin, and wavy brown hair all coifed up and matching the color of his eyes. I bet as a child his parents entered him in beauty contests. But he wasn't a girl, he was a man, at least physically, and he'd made me feel something unlike any had before. "So now you know," I told him. "Now leave me alone."

"Not so fast," he said. "You're going to do something for me."

"I wouldn't bet on it," I warned.

"No, you're going to do it, because if you don't I'm going to the Daily Scholar and tell them all about your sleazy little side job. And you know what? When that story gets out they'll kick your ass out of school."

"They can't expel me for that."

"Oh yes they can. Just ask around. Ask my old man. He's a personal friend of the guy that owns this college – know what I mean? And when he wants to ruin someone, they're ruined. Understand?"

I couldn't believe it. You know, I just couldn't believe that after working so hard to get there, I was going to be kicked out of school for this, for just trying to help my stupid roommate! It just couldn't be. Now I was more outraged than scared. "Get off of me and I'll think about it," I said. I wasn't about to give any sexual favors out, if that's what he wanted. I just wanted him to let me go.

"OK, but you run I'm going straight to the DS. OK, let her go, bro." They both let go of me. I quickly pulled up my top. "OK, here's what you're going to do," Trevor went on. "You're going to make an appearance at our Tiki Island party. It's a week from Saturday at my dad's house on the lake. Come to the house early afternoon. Just ask anybody over there where his house is."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're going to bring another wrestler girl with you – I don't care who, just bring her – and you're going to wrestle for us. Got it?"

I answered back, "You think I'm stupid? If I go out there in front of a bunch of guys they're going to know I'm the one on the Website and then everyone on campus will know. I'll be kicked out of school anyway!"

"No," said Trevor. "You won't. You can disguise yourself. Wear a mask or something. So nobody will know. And we won't tell anyone either."

"How do I know you won't just go to the DS anyway, or keep blackmailing me whenever you want something? What guarantees you won't do that?"

"Nothing." Trevor smiled. "That's a chance you'll have to take."

I looked away, over the roses and across the field of grass waving silver-green in the breeze. What a day, I thought and asked, "What time."

When I got home I didn't tell Loralie what happened. I couldn't, without revealing everything to her. Besides, we weren't even on speaking terms anymore. She hated me, thinking I was trying to steal her beloved Trevor. That, of course, was so not true. I'd never thought of stealing that spoiled brat from her. But then one day I came back from one of my evening classes and Loralie was waiting for me. What was most surprising was – she actually spoke!

"Marissa," she said, sort of hushed, "we need to talk."

"Oh," I said, trying to hide the utter shock in my voice, "what about?"

"I think I owe you an apology."

"Go on," I said, my ears perking up like a Doberman's.

"Well, it's like, I've been trying to find out if you were right about Trevor. And it looks like I was so wrong about him and you were right. I'm really sorry and I hope you'll just forgive me."

"I'll forgive you. But how'd you find this out?"

"I was on campus yesterday and I saw this guy from Trevor's fraternity. I'd never met him but I remembered seeing him once when Trevor showed me the House. So I went up to him and started, you know, flirting. He didn't recognize me. Then I mentioned how I knew a girl who was dating a guy from the House, and his name was Trevor. 'Which one?' the guy said. I said I thought she was his girlfriend from high school. And he said he'd thought I was talking about the porn star!"

"Porn star?" I said, struggling with the lump in my throat.

"Yeah," Loralie said, matter-of-factly. "The guy said he heard Trevor had seen a porn star and he'd invited her to be at Tiki Island with him. That's the big frat party they do every year."

"So, you believe that guy?"

"Why not? Why would he lie about something like that?"

"Look, um, Loralie—

"You don't have to say anything. I just wanted to say I'm sorry and everything. I hope we can be friends again."

"Loralie, there's something—

"Shuuush! Now, just to show you I'm serious, I cooked dinner for us."

Loralie took me by the hand and led me to the sliding doors, pulled the curtain back, and there on our little patio was a table just big enough for two, elegantly set with a white tablecloth, silverware, wine glasses – even a wedding candle sticking up between the place settings. "Loralie," was all I could say.

"Go sit down and I'll bring out the plates. Everything's done." I did as told, and when Loralie came back from the kitchen she had two plates of pink salmon, artichoke hearts and melon slices with blueberries. "I hope this is enough," she added.

"No, this is too much," I said as Loralie lit the candle.

She sat down across the table and was filling our wine glasses when I think I really noticed her like I never had since that day I first saw her at the pool. The candlelight reflected off the patio's whitewashed walls, and the warm light brought out the gold in her hair. It flowed down like liquid amber and disappeared behind her shoulders. I'd kill for that hair, and that was just one of the jumble of notions flooding my mind right then. She saw me and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I tried to look away and up at the stars dotting the evening sky. I felt a cool stillness. "Your hair looks nice tonight," I told her.

"Thanks." And her eyes did too. They matched the evening sky with their blueness and sparkle. What was I thinking? What was I doing! I tried to think but that face was unrelenting, those perfectly puffy cheeks, the girlish nose, those lips and skin like a baby. We'd had our differences and still did, but here was a side of Loralie I'd never seen. Maybe I'd sensed it, but hadn't seen it. I couldn't quite make words out of it, but it was like innocence, only it wasn't. It was more a sweetness. Yes, Loralie was nothing but sweet. "Loralie," I said. "I have to tell you something. You may not believe this but it's the truth, and I have to tell you. First, I don't know what to say about all this, the dinner and everything, it's so – sweet of you. I just love it."

"Oh it's nothing. I had it all planned for Trevor. I wanted to show him I could cook. So since I'm dumping him, I had all this food and stuff, so, here it is."

"Well, I love it anyway. But what I was saying is, what I was trying to tell you is: I'm the 'porn star' that Trevor is seeing."

Loralie froze for several seconds. "What?" she uttered.

"It's like this: I work on this Website, with other women. It's just something I do to pay for college. I don't consider myself a porn star. I don't have sex with guys or anything like that. I just wrestle – women."

I paused to let Loralie catch her breath. "You're not serious," she smiled. "This is just a joke, right?"

"No, I'm telling you the truth."

"My god," she shrieked, "and you're dating Trevor?"

"No-no I'm not. That's not happening. It's just that he found out about me being on-line like that with other women."

"You wrestle?"

"It's a long story. But one of his guys recognized me from our Website. That was after I told you about how he was just using you. So to get back at me, he and another guy grabbed me over there in the garden between the soccer fields and they're forcing me to bring another girl to wrestle for them at that Tiki party. He said he'd leak my story to the school newspaper if I didn't do what he said, and once the story got out I'd be kicked out of school. He said his father would see to it. Loralie, do you get what I'm saying?"